Making Pebernødder and Remembering Evy Bilbo

I received a sad e-mail on Saturday. Evy Bilbo has died in Copenhagen. I had already planned to make pebernødder, a variation of the traditional Danish Christmas butter cookies, today. Her death has turned it into a labor of love with wonderful memories.

The best consequence of all my world travels was that I met Arne Blücher and, therefore, became a part of his "family." I put that word in quotation marks, because it wasn't Arne's blood family, it was his step-family. Arne's real family had cut contact with him and he had not seen his half-brothers for 20 years before he died. But Arne's father had married another woman, and Arne had been adopted as the step-son, step-brother, step-uncle, etc., of this entire family. The love is such within this family, however, that the word "step" was never applied. Arne was their son, brother, uncle, etc. And due to my relationship, I was adopted into the family with similar honorifics.

Evy was Arne's "sister." Because her mother who was married to Arne's father was already quite elderly and mostly confined to her apartment when I came into the family, Evy served as the matriarch of the family. I met her, her husband Arvind, and their children soon after meeting Arne in May of 1984. Not long after that, it had become obvious to everyone that Arne and I were more than just friends. We were attending a party in honor of his niece Anita. Evy pulled me aside and said, "Randy, you know that Arne is not my real brother, but I want you to know that I love him more than even my real sisters. I want to let you know how happy I am that he has found you and that you will always be welcome in our home."

That moment has remained vivid in my mind through all these years, and Evy proved true to her words. Just as her family had become Arne's family, they also became mine. We were invited to their home regularly and to all their family celebrations. Because I was there each year in December, the Bilbo Christmas celebration became ours, too. And when my friend Mark and my sister Sue visited Arne and me in different years, they were invited and welcomed into the family for the Christmas celebrations as well. As the matriarch, Evy took the lead in inviting us all and making us all feel welcome and honored to participate in such a wonderful experience.

As my friend Mark and my sister Sue can atest, there is nothing so special as a Christmas in Denmark. The city is decked out in quaint lighted garlands of real greenery. The storefronts have those magical displays that were so popular everywhere in the 1950s. There are concerts to attend, cookies to be made, special all-afternoon lunches to be eaten, etc. But most special of all is the traditional family celebration on the night of Christmas Eve.

How Evy and her family could pull off such a special event each year is amazing. Preparations would begin weeks earlier when she would have a baking day to make the various butter cookies--Finskbrød, klejner, kokoskranse, vaniljekranse, jødekager, pleskner, and kaffebrød. Because of my interest in learning to bake these wonderful treats, she invited me to join her for this activity and patiently made sure that I understood the techniques used. Then later, when I became interested in another cookie which was not part of their family tradition, pebernødder, she adopted the recipe that I found and made it a new part of the tradition.

Christmas Eve, however was the special time. Evy would always request that Arne and I arrive around 17:30. At that time, Arvind would be putting the final touches on the Christmas tree which would have been bought earlier and stored until that day for decorating while she and other members of the family were in the kitchen making final preparations for the dinner. The windows of the apartment would have red tape to give the effect of smaller panes of glass and would have "snow" on them and lighted stars hanging in front of them to give that cozy Christmas feeling. Throughout the apartment would be displays of Christmas items--Danish Christmas plates for each year, small Christmas village scenes, nisser (elves), etc. And Evy was always delighted with additions to her Christmas collection that Arne and I would bring her from America--walking Santa Claus salt and pepper shakers, a Santa face that would react to movement by playing Christmas music as people entered the door of the apartment, etc.

Everyone would sit around the dining table for a formal dinner. Evy always served both Danish roast pork with crispy skin and roast duck stuffed with prunes. There were caramelized new potatoes and well as regular boiled new potatoes. There was sweet-and-sour red cabbage, gravy, a pickled fruit whose name sounds like "asia," etc. That was always followed by the traditional Christmas dessert in Denmark--Ris ala mande, rice-almond pudding with one whole almond hidden somewhere inside the bowl. We would each serve ourselves and top it with a special cherry sauce. And Evy always made sure there was a special "almond" gift, usually a box of chocolates, for whoever got the whole almond.

After dinner, we would retire to the living room. The first year I was there, they lighted the live candles on the Christmas tree and then pulled it out in the center of the floor. I was shocked as the candles jiggled, worrying that the flames might reach a dry branch. But they wanted me to have as traditional a Christmas as possilbe, and tradition dictated singing the Christmas carols while dancing around the tree in a circle. In later years, we left the tree in the corner with its candles burning as we sat and sang. Following the singing, the gifts were distributed and opened. Then the evening would end with drinks and Christmas cookies and candies. Evy was in her element as she oversaw this big production each year.

I've written much about Christmas, because my best memories of Evy and her family are tied to it. There was so much more to our relationship, though. I was at Evy's mother's funeral. I was at birthday parties and anniversary celebrations. I watched all of Evy's grandchildren grow and become adults. Evy and Arvind would invite Arne and me to their summer house where they loved spending part of each year in the outdoors. In other words, I felt I was fully incorporated into the family, and Evy was the one who always seemed to be sure that I got the "word" and was invited to such events.

Unfortunately, the "word" came from Gitte, Evy's daughter, this weekend instead of from Evy. That's because it was news of Evy's death. It is such sad news, and it has set my mind reeling with all these memories of what Evy has done for me and what she has meant to me for the past 25 1/2 years. I had just received a final e-mail from her on Nov. 20 updating me on events there and answering a question I had about one of the Christmas cookie recipes. And fortunately, I had just seen her and had a nice visit with her and members of the family in September when I made what has been an annual stopover in Copenhagen since Arne's death to see them and friends there. Our good-bye then was more than the typical one, because I had already announced that I would be ending my around-the-world trips and that the visit would be my last to Copenhagen for a few years. I remember Evy's hug being like that of my grandmother who, as she aged, always hugged me as if it would be the last chance she would get to do so. Sad to say, but it was in this case.

My life and the world will never be the same without Evy Bilbo. Of course, her family will miss her even more than I will. All of us who knew her personally will miss her greatly, though. I can tell you exactly what Arne would have been doing Sunday after the news arrived if he had still been alive, because I saw him doing it twice when word came to us of others who were very close to him having died. I would have noticed that the apartment seemed quiet and would have gone looking for him. And I would have found him in the bathtub with it filled to the brim with warm water. He would have been lying there thinking, crying, but mostly remembering. That's all my mind is willing to do so far, too; I just keep thinking, crying, and remembering.

Randy's and Evy's Pebbernøder (Pepper Nuts) Recipe

Note: This is a European recipe, so the ingredients are in grams. Americans can use a diet scale marked in grams for measuring; the scales are available inexpensively at all grocery stores and pharmacies.

250 g flour
200 g butter (about 2 sticks minus 1 1/2 Tbsp in America), room temperature
150 g sugar
1 tsp vanilla sugar (Can substitute 1 tsp powdered sugar and 1/2 tsp vanilla extract in America)
1 tsp white pepper

Mix all ingredients together in a bowl. Use your hands toward the end so that the butter will melt slightly causing the mixture to cling together. If possible, form into 3 sections and roll into long strands, then cut into small pieces and roll by hand into balls about 1.25 cm (1/2 inch) in diameter. If mixture is too crumbly, use fingers to press and form dough into small balls about 1.25 cm (1/2 inch) in diameter. Place on an ungreased baking sheet about 2.5 cm (1 inch) apart. Bake at 175 degrees Celsius (350 degrees F) for about 15 minutes until just beginning to brown. Remove to wire racks to cool. Store in an airtight container and serve to guests throughout the Christmas season.

Back in San Antonio

Sunday, Sept. 27, 2009--Barcelona (Continued)

Since I have no plans to return to Europe anytime soon, I stopped by an exchange office and got rid of the rest of my Euros. The airport exchange offices are always more expensive in terms of fees than the ones in town. Of course, it costs to change money, so I lost some by re-converting to dollars; however, it would do me no good to hold $70 worth of Euros for several years!

I returned to the room for another quiet and early night. After packing my luggage and getting everything organized for a quick process of getting ready and away tomorrow morning, I went to bed. It was about 21:00, but the alarm was set for 3:15. Yuck!!

Monday, Sept. 28, 2009--Barcelona to San Antonio via Frankfurt and Los Angeles

I overslept!! I'm not sure how it happened. I removed one of my earplugs around 2:00 and moved my alarm clock to my chest to keep it close, because I still needed to use the pillow a bit to muffle the noise from outside. How can the Spanish stand living where people are up making noise all night every night?!! Anyway, the next time I awoke, I started to just go back to sleep. But then I thought I should check the time in case it was almost time for it to go off. Instead, it was already 4:05. I had missed my bus and the next bus after that already!!

I knew I didn't have time to get ready the way I normally would. I just spashed water on my face, rubbed water into my hair and combed it into place, got dressed and left the hotel. I walked fast to get to the bus stop and made it about 8 minutes before the next bus which left at 4:40. While riding on the bus, I pulled out my razor and dry-shaved myself as people watched in amusement. The bus didn't arrive at the airport until 45 minutes later, and then it wasn't at my terminal. It was 5:30 before I entered the terminal, and my flight was scheduled for 6:55, less than 1 1/2 hours away. I used electronic check-in to avoid the lines that were formed.

After all that rushing, the plane was delayed by 30 minutes because of a faulty emergency exit door. With only an hour to change planes in Frankfurt in the original schedule, I knew there would be another potential problem when we got there. Fortunately, the repairs did take only 30 minutes and we were on our way. Just before landing in Frankfurt, they announced that there would be a special bus meet the plane to take those of us who were connecting to San Francisco and to Los Angeles. That assured me that I would make the connection, although I wondered if my checked bag would. Two men with the bus, after having crossed the tarmac to a gate far from where we landed, guided us up a set of stairs, through passport control, and to our gate where our plane was already being boarded.

The flight to Los Angeles was a long one--11.5 hours!! I read, I listened to music, I slept, I thought, etc. One thing that came to mind was that it would have been nice to have Arne sitting beside me on the flight. We were seldom together on long-haul flights. We took vacations once a year in the spring when I was working and Arne visited, usually by combining a business trip with a holiday. After I retired and was spending more time in Copenhagen, we took two vacations--one in the spring in the U.S. as usual and one somewhere in Europe during the fall or winter. Our trans-Atlantic crossings together were very limited--once in 1985 when Arne visited Texas from mid-November to early December and we traveled together to go to Denmark for Christmas and once in 2004 when we crossed from London to San Antonio as the first leg of the around-the-world tickets we had both bought for that year. We were about to take our first trans-Pacific flight as a part of that ticket when he had his stroke and died in Calgary. Of course, we made that flight, but it was me and his ashes rather than Arne himself. All these years since, I've traveled alone, but we would have traveeled together if he had lived.

I finished reading Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabetyh Gilbert on the flight. It is a book that I had gotten in one of the riads in Morocco by making an exchange with a book that I had already finished. Unfortunately, this was not a good book. The first few pages were quite witty and uniquely written, so I had my hopes up. Then it became a self-absorbed, woe-is-me tale. The Indian section, except for the witticisms of Richard from Texas, was boring. But I don't have much tolerance, if any, for people who "need" yoga, spiritualism, self-centering, etc. I gave the book 1 1/2 stars out of 4.

By the time we reached Los Angeles, everyone was tired and restless. Kids were kicking the backs of seats and screaming, others were standing in the aisles, etc. Thank goodness it did come to an end. Then I had one of my best experiences in terms of processing through passport control and customs. I was finished with both and walking to my terminal for my next flight within 15 minutes!! Unbelievable.

Flying to San Antonio, I sat next to an employee of Toyota who is moving here to help with the transition of the manufacturing of the Tacoma pickups from the factory that they co-operated with GM to their San Antonio plant. We talked about Toyotas, the car business in general, and especially the fact that GM and Ford still don't seem to understand what happened to them and why in terms of loss of business.

Rose and Jerry, my two volunteer colleagues at the airport, were waiting at the gate area when I arrived in San Antonio. It was so nice to see them again and to be greeted that way. When we went downstairs, Sue, my sister, was standing there waiting. Usually I arrive alone and wait for a ride to pick me up outside. It's nice to be greeted.

At home, two big boxes held 4.5 months of mail. Also, the toilets needed to be cleaned before being turned on due to the accumulation of calcium deposits from the water that had evaporated during my time away. I unpacked my bag, put a few things away, set some clocks that were off, glanced through the mail and organized it in stacks, etc. By 22:00, however, I was too tired to continue. I went to bed.

Tuesday, Sept. 29, 2009--San Antonio

It was 5:00 when I awoke and decided I could not sleep more. I did a load of laundry, organized all my statements and entered the information in Quicken on the computer, checked all my statements from travel expenses with my receipts and records I had kept to make sure everything was right, put my travel clothes in the washer and afterwards in the dryer, discovered that the battery in my car was dead and unchargable, filed away important communications I had received related to accounts and policies, etc. Then I bathed and went with my sister Sue to get me a new battery and to have lunch at a Thai restaurant. I'm barely home, and life is a rush again!! It will take several more days to get caught up on everything which will include having to give each room in my condo a thorough cleaning due to 4.5 months of accumulated dust and dead bugs, etc., that seem to find a way into a home. But I am happy to be here. I'm tired of traveling for now. It will be a few months before the itch returns!

Final Spending Report: During my 5 days in Barcelona, I spent $219.94 for an average of $43.99 per day. Since leaving Texas in May, I have traveled for 161 days and spent $6597.77 (not including my airfare of about $4400) for an average of $40.97 per day. This is the first year my daily spending average for a trip has gone above $40. Of course, the value of the U.S. dollar keeps going down and inflation also keeps prices rising, so the difference was inevitable. Still, my average this year was only about $2.75 more per day than it was last year.

Returning Home after 4.5 Months of Travel

Spending Update for Morocco: Morocco was a surprise. I expected it to be one of the cheaper countries for me to visit. Instead, it was the second most expensive (after Canada) on this trip! Even Barcelona and the areas of eastern Europe I visited have been less expensive. Over 10 days in Morocco, I spent $474.89 for an average of $47.49 per day. (Actually the amount was more than that due to the fall of the dollar. For other countries, I adjusted my exchange chart that I made in April to represent the new value, but since I was in Morocco for only 10 days and did not see the new exchange rate posted, I just used the old chart. Later, I realized that I had really spent about $550 for an average of $55 per day. Since I had already figured my expenses, however, I will leave them as I had them.) That means that I have spent $6377.83 over 156 days for an average of $40.88 per day during the whole trip.

Friday, Sept. 25, 2009--Barcelona (Continued)

Carrefour has a large supermarket on the Rambla. I bought water, chorizzo, and fruit. I ate that in my room with some of the other items I already had there--crackers, pickles, chips, and wine.

The parade I saw tonight had dragons as the paper machè items in it. They had flares coming out their nostrils as they turned and twisted going down the streets. I joined a large crowd of people following. When we reached the end of the route, there were sparkler-like fireworks that came out of the nostrils. It was quite exciting and nice.

Saturday, Sept. 26, 2009--Barcelona

I walked long distances today to see some of the outlying sights that had caught my attention either on the map or in my guidebook. I went by the large art museum which is part of a complex which was built for a world exposition here in 1929. Two of the chairs I have in my living room are called Barcelona chairs because they were designed for this exhibition. I didn´t go to the museum. There are too many people everywhere here, and I knew it would take most of the day just to see everything from the outside. Needing to see the museum can be an excuse to return here in a few years.

From there I headed to the area where the Olympics were held here a few years ago. However, I did not go to the Olympic grounds. Instead, I went nearby to see the gates of the botanical garden, Finca Guell, which were designed by Gaudi.

From there, I tried to see Collegi de les Terasianes. Unfortunately, it is fenced to keep people from seeing inside. I had one spot with a bit of a hole in the shrubbery which let me get a glimpse. It wasn´t enough.

My last stop before returning to town was Park Guell. It is a wonderful area with Gaudi designs. Being a beautiful day, many people were out. Musicians were playing. Everyone was enjoying the sunshine, the magical architecture, and the views across the city.

It had been 6 hours of walking, so I was tired when I returned to the room. I finished reading World without End by Ken Follett. The book got worse and worse as it went along, and it was far too long. It was written like a soap opera with recapsulations regularly as if the reader was not respected enough to follow on his own. Furthermore, from the book you would think that half the inventions and ideas of modern society came from the town of Kingsbridge in the 1300s. The book was a gift to me, and it confirms something I have already said many times--good literature does not usually come in a book with a glossy cover. I gave it 1 1/2 stars out of 4 and will leave it in the room rather than pass it on to someone else.

I have to worry about adjusting my schedule to be able to be awake Monday morning for my departure back to the U.S. I must catch the 4:20 bus to the airport, so I need to be up at 3:30. With all the excitement of the festival and all the noise from it, I have been going to bed late and sleeping late while wearing my earplugs. I will still need my earplugs to keep out the noise which means that they will block the alarm clock, too. Therefore, tonight I will go to bed at 20:30 and should sleep well, since I am tired from my cold and from so much walking.

Sunday, Sept. 27, 2009--Barcelona

Last night was my worst night of sleep due to the cold so far. I had much drainage into my throat which became more and more sore. I did sleep quite a few hours, however. I have a bit of a cough now that comes from a slight tickle in the throat.

I went to the beaches near the area of town called Barceloneta this morning. I had intended to go to a nearby town called Sitges, but I just did not feel like traveling. There were many people at the beach. I walked all the way down it and back again. The women were topless on most of the beach, and there is a nude section on the end closest to town. I sat beside the beach and ate some peanuts and fruits that I had with me.

On the way back to town, I happened upon a square where they were building human pyramids as a part of the Mercè Festival. I watched as 4 of them were built by the people from various districts of town or nearby villages.

It is now the middle of the afternoon. I will return to Texas tomorrow. The trip will take all day. I arrive in San Antonio at 19:50 after leaving my hotel around 4:00 (with a 7-hour time difference between the two cities). I´ll be in touch with a follow-up and a final spending report in a few days.

Goodbye Morocco; Hello Barcelona!

Tuesday, Sept. 22, 2009--Marrakech (Continued)

There are too many flies here in Marrakech. There weren´t so many in Fes, although they have them, too. I often see pastries or other food items I would like to try, but too often they are in the open rather than covered. I have seen pastries with 5-7 flies on each item!! And those flies are also landing on all the trash and excrement in the street before landing on the food.

I went to a restaurant on the big square that was recommended by Mehjoub, the manager of the riad. It proved to be the best place I have eaten in Morocco. I started with a salad of chopped tomatoes and red onions. It came with a piece of Moroccan flat bread warm and just out of the oven. It tasted and smelled so good. then I tried the chicken tagine. In side was a whole chicken breast, and a big one, too. Also, there were sliced potatoes, olives, slices of lemon, etc., to give it flavor. It was yellow, so they probably used saffron. They also used other spices, because it was hot with spices, too. I drank a banana milkshake for my dessert. It was thick, creamy, and tasty--made with a banana that was just ripe.

Part of the evening was spent in the square watching the entertainment. Unfortunately, tonight it was not as exciting as last night. Stores have been open today, so fewer people are out this evening. Yesterday, everyone seemed to be out due to the holidays. Also, there was not as good a mix of entertainers. Too many of the groups were playing music, and there were not enough comedy groups. That meant small crowds at the music groups and too many people at the comedy groups. The groups were more aggressive tonight in seeking contributions. I like to pay for street groups that entertain me, but they were requesting money as I was just passing by or when I had first arrived and had not yet been entertained. In addition to that hassle, a few men were bothering me for money. I just left and went back to the riad for the night.

Wednesday, Sept. 23, 2009--Marrakech to Barcelona

I awoke with a stuffy nose. I hope it´s just allergies and not the cold that the manager of the riad has had for the past few days. I´ve tried to avoid getting it by washing my hands often, especially after we have shook hands or I have handled something he has given me. But I could have gotten the germs from eating the bread he had held and sliced for my breakfast.

I walked to the station. I was up earlier than planned and had two hours to get there, so it would have been silly to take a taxi. I still arrived at the station with over an hour to wait for the train. I went into a store there and bought some Hobnobs (oat cookies) with the money I would have spent on a taxi.

My trains ran on time, and I got to the airport when no one was in line at the check-in counter for my flight. The airport had long, slow lines for passport control. It seemed to be mostly the Moroccans they were checking thoroughly. I don´t understand why. Since they are leaving, it should not be a problem. I don´t like the fact that people belong to countries like property. I can accept that another country might reject a person, but I feel uncomfortable thinking of myself being under the control of the U.S. as far as where I can go and where I cannot.

My flights were uneventful. I read much of the time. I was happy to get the drinks and sandwiches they served, since there really wasn´t time or a place to eat between flights.

It was 22:50 when we arrived in Barcelona. That was too late for me to hope to catch the train. The last train to town would be at 23:30, and it would leave from the other terminal which was a 15-minute bus ride away. My luggage didn´t arrive until 23:15, so I went outside and found the stop for the night bus. It takes longer, but it is the same price as the train. The bus came at 23:30, and I was in the center of town at 00:20. There were crowds of people everywhere because of Merce, the music festival which is the largest festival that Barcelona has all year. I walked through the crowds hearing music from various stages along the way. I arrived at my pension at 00:45, tired and read for bed!

The lock on the main compartment of my suitcase was missing and the bag was slightly unzipped when I went to unlock it to get my toiletries. I HATE security doing that. And it was the kind of lock that they are supposed to be able to open and then put back in place. This is the second time such a lock has been opened and not put back when I have traveled.

As I went to bed, I was glad to have my earplugs. It was obvious that the noise from the festival would continue for many hours. But the earplugs silenced it for me, and I slept well.

Thursday, Sept. 24, 2009--Barcelona

So far, I hven´t found anything missing. I checked the most important things--my memory card with 800 photos on it, my Swiss army knife, my alarm clock, a gift I am carrying home, etc. They are all still there. Still, I am upset it was opened and that the lock is lost. My bags never raise suspicion when I stand by security and wait for them to be checked at airports that check them before a person goes past security.

Wow! Tourism is booming in Barcelona. Also, it´s the Merce Festival. There are crowds everywhere. And it is a holiday here. Stores, other than restaurants and a few souvenir shops, are closed today. Yesterday was the first day of the festival, and I guess that today is a holiday due to everyone staying up late and enjoying it. The stores should be open tomorrow with things more like normal.

Much of the tourism in Barcelona is based on architecture (which I define as including sculptures and fountains as well as buildings). Not too many cities realize the draw that nice buildings have on tourists. They should come here and see the 30 huge tourist buses outside the Temple ode Segrada Familia at any given time day and evening!! And all the people on those buses are going to other tourist sites on their tour, too. Best of all, they are not delegates at a conference where they are in meetings much of their time with limitations on when they can be out in town spending their money. These are tourists who have come to see the buildings and are spending day and night! Only a few cities in the U.S. have recognized the value of good architecture. New York and Chicago are obvious ones who have done it forever. Another is Columbus, Indiana, which has gradually built a big tourism trade on having buildings designed by name architects. Other cities have happened upon it almost by accident--New Orleans with its French Quarter and Garden District, San Francisco with its being rebuilt after the earthquake in an appealing style that was used in abundance due to so much of the city being destroyed. Los Angeles seems to be discovering it with the reactions to the Getty Museum, the Disney Studio Gates, and the Disney Theater. Miami Beach discovered it by accident almost too late. Kansas City tries to promote architectural tourism with its fountains, and Richmond tries, too, with its statues, but neither has been very successful.

I definitely have a cold. My throat is raw, and I feel a bit tired. Still, I got out to explore parts of the city. Crowds are everywhere, but I wandered the Rambla, the long walkway through town, walked down the narrow streets of the Gothic Quarter which is where my pension is located, etc. I found some of the special architectural sights just through this wandering. Tomorrow, I will head out with a checklist of sites that I want to see.

There are parades as a part of the festival. They seem almost spontaneous in that they wander up and down streets and there is no seating for people to wait and watch. Instead, when one hears the noise, he heads toward it to enjoy the excitement. There are giant figures in the shapes of people made from paper machè. Persons standing inside the bases of the figures walk the streets twisting and turning. In between are bands consisting of drummer and oboe players. With the narrow streets, the sound is LOUD. Everyone reacts positively and enjoys it all.

In the evening, I went to the large stage to listen to some of the music. A singer from England was singing. I don´t know his name. He looked like a young, chubby George Michaels. The music was nice, and the crowd was enjoying it. I broke away after midnight and returned to my room.

Friday, Sept. 25, 2009--Barcelona

I had drainage into my throat most of the night. Therefore, it is still raw and feels a bit feverish. But I am pushing myself to get out and see the city.

When I try to think of cities that can compare to Barcelona, the one that comes closest is Paris. They look nothing alike, but they are both large, have many impressive buildings, have lots of squares and hidden spaces where people enjoy congregating, etc. I wish I felt better while exploring it, for it is a wonderful city.

My outing today was to see various buildings, many, but not all, of them designed by Gaudi. I saw the Gherkin office building, the Temple de Segrada Familia, Casa Viceris, La Pedrara, Casa Amatller, etc. All were fascinating to see. At each, there were crowds of people with their cameras in the air taking photos. As I wrote yesterday, interesting architecture pays off in increased tourism when there is an accumulation of enough interesting buildings as they have here.

Ending My Days in Morocco

Sunday, Sept. 20, 2009--Marrakesh (Continued)

The manager of the riad gave me a key to the front door so I can come and go. It's so nice to be able to do what I want when I want. I had to ring the bell everytime I returned to the riad in Fes.

This being the end of Ramadan, the town was alive with people going out tonight. I stopped at a small restaurant for dinner and tried the tajine again. This time it was different--not better or worse, but different. It was thicker with chunks of tomato instead of tomato sauce.

Monday, Sept. 21, 2009--Marrakech

There was no loud calling at 4:45 this morning from the mosque behind the riad. Until now, someone has screeched loudly pronouncing the beginning of the daily fast for Ramadan. Muslims cannot eat, drink or smoke (among other things) between 4:45 and about 18:30 each day of Ramadan. With Ramadan over, there was no need to remind people to fast. As I have said before, I wonder about a religion that feels so insecure about whether its believers will do what they should do that it has to use loud speakers to remind them continuously. Since most people here are Muslims and have lived with it all their lives, they don't even question it. I would consider it an insult. And the call for the fast at 4:45 would be an unwelcome intrusion into my sleep. Surely a good believer knows when he awakens that it is too late to eat or drink or smoke until after sunset!

Still, I didn't sleep well. I ate some chocolate before going to bed, and I think that the caffeine in it was partially the cause of my restlessness. But probably the fact that I am returning home a week from today was a factor, too. I always start worrying about what must be done when I am back. I awoke at 6:30 this morning thinking about things I need to do. Although traveling is stressful, I think I am more relaxed with fewer worries when I travel than I am when I am at home with a long list of things I know I need to do.

Mehjoub, the manager of the riad, served some special treats with breakfast to celebrate the end of the fast. There was one that consisted of whole almonds stuck together by a honey like mixture. Theer was another that had more whole almonds and pieces of chopped, candied fruits resting on a piece of pastry. And there was a third which was a pastry filled with chopped nuts. All were delicious.

With Ramadan over, everyone was out having a great time today. The majority of the shops were closed. People were outside in their best clothing visiting with neighbors and wandering around town. I'm sure that all were happy that the fasting has ended. Among the few shops that were open were bakeries, cafes, restaurants, etc. The yo-yo seems to have been a popular gift for boys for the end of Ramadan. Many boys were playing with them in the streets as I wandered around town. One even got my attention so he could show me as he tried to roll it out and in again.

After resting at the riad and reading for part of the day, I went out again in the late afternoon. I went to the main square, a huge open space, and spent two hours watching the entertainment. There musicians, magicians, snake charmers, dancers, acrobats, boxers, etc. I just wandered from group to group watching when I could get close enough to see. All had at rings of at least three layers of people watching.

It became more dangerous as the square became dark. A man tried to pick my pocket, but I was being safe and was aware of it immediately. First, I had my arm over my bag holding it against one side of me, and I had my hand resting against my money pocket on the other side of me. The man was trying to get into a pocket that had no money at all. It's where I store a plastic bag for carrying things that I buy when I am out. But to him, I guess it looked as if it were bulging with folded money. I was already aware of him because he was facing sideways rather than toward the entertainment. Then I could sense a tickle as he tried to open the velcro strips that hold the pocket shut. I started to turn away and grabbed his arm and pushed it with an obvious and strong shove and said, "Leave me alone!" Then I walked away. There are policemen, both in uniform and in plain clothes in the square, so I hope one noticed what happened. Anyway, everyone should know to be careful and watch for such incidents when standing in a group in a major square. And they should be especially careful under such circumstances after dark.

I didn't really feel hungry tonight. Therefore, I just ate some snacks as I was in town. Then after I came to my room, I finished the olives I had, ate half of my remaining dates, and finished a chocolate bar I had been eating on recently. Unfortunately, that's the end of my Marabou bars, one of the best chocolate bars in the world.

Tuesday, Sept. 22, 2009--Marrakech

Tonight is my last night in Morocco. It's been a good trip in general, and I wish I had been able to see more of the country before leaving. It's definitely the exotic country that everyone imagines it to be. It is a safer country than I expected it to be, too. Staying in riads has been nice, although they are noisy and have caused me to have to use my earplugs each night. With all rooms facing a central atrium, any noise such as a door opening, a lock being turned, someone talking, the TV being on, etc., just funnels through the building and can be heard in all rooms. Also, being in Morocco has been more expensive than I expected. Although less expensive than the U.S., Japan, western Europe, etc., it has not been a cheap destination. Rooms have cost me 3-4 times what similar rooms would cost in Thailand or India, and meals have cost me 3-4 times what similar meals in similar places would cost in Thailand or India. In fact, I have spent as much per day being in Morocco as I had to spend to tour the Balkan countries in Europe before coming here.

Things are getting back to normal today. Shops seem to be opening even though today is also considered to be a holiday following the end of Ramadan. I will wander through the streets enjoying the atmosphere. I will go to one of the parks to read for a while. I will return to the square for some entertainment. And I will try to have a nice final meal tonight. Then I must be up early tomorrow morning to get to the train station. It will be a day of traveling--getting to the station, taking the train for about 4 hours, flying to Lisbon, and finally flying to Barcelona. I will leave the riad about 7:30 in the morning and will not be in Barcelona until 22:50. I don't expect to reach my hotel there until after midnight.

Mullahs Decide Ramadan Is Not Over Yet!

Thursday, Sept. 17, 2009--Fes (Continued)

Today is a special Ramadan day for children--the 27th day of Ramadan. They are in fancy dress all over the city. I was told that it is a way for a family to thank Allah for their good fortune. It's the children who are the center of the activity, because they will be a part of bringing more good fortune in the future. The girls have their hands and sometimes their arms painted in henna. They were long, fancy dresses. They get adult-like hairstyles at the beauty shops and have makeup on their faces. The latter is a bit bothering; it reminds me of Jon Benet Ramsey. The boys were fancy caftans and either golden turbans or red felt fez hats.

The excitement for the coming end to Ramadan s building. More food items are showing up at the markets. People are rushing more. Men run down the streets clapping and jumping to slap at the awnings. The excitement reminds me of the last 2-3 days before Christmas in the West.

I bought soup again tonight. I also convinced the South African lady at the pension to try it, too. She liked it.

She, the French lady, the French lady's grandfather, and I went out in the evening to experience the excitement. We stopped at a cafe for a drink. Then we continued up and down the streets and to a street fair that was just outside the walls of the old city. Local people were out having fun--happy and friendly.

Friday, Sept. 18, 2009--Meknes

After breakfast, I went with the French lady and her grandfather to Meknes via train. They were going there to stay a couple of days. I decided to try again for an outing for the day. We made the 10:50 train this time, so that gave me about 4 hours there. The French people were going to hire a guide, so I went on my own after getting there. They needed a French-speaking guide for the grandfather, and I knew that a guide would go slowly meaning that I would see little during my brief time.

Meknes is another of the old imperial capitals of Morocco (along with Rabat, Fes, and Marrakesh). I got a map at the tourist office and headed for the medina, the old walled city. It is nice, but it is nothing compared to Fes. I wandered the streets some seeing what could be seen. Most of the shops are for local people, so it was nice not to be bothered too much by the shopkeepers. Also, it was nice to see the local people out doing their shopping as they have done for centuries.

People here in Meknes are interesting. They see to be less sophisticated than those in Fes. And there is more variety in dress. Of couse, it all can be seen in Fes, too, but there it is "watered down" by the fact that there are more modern people mixed with the crowds. I saw men wearing colorful clothes and similarly colorful pointed hats that must be desert costumes. Some men wear kaftans with pointed hoods. Others wear the white cotton shirt-like "dresses" that like men in Egypt wear. Women also vary. There are the modern westernized women who wear boots, jeans, makeup, and nice hair styles. But they tend to be the younger and richer women. Most women wear either a headscarf with a coat-like dress, a long dark dress with a head covering and a veil across the face, or burka-like costumes that completely keep them out of view of others.

As my time to explore came to an end, I headed back toward the station. I had noticed that McDonalds was open as I passed it before. I was so hungry that I decided to go there. It has walls to hide the cars at the drive-up window and the diners in the building. They were probably built purposely for Ramadan since it lasts for a whole month. I bought a chicken sandwich meal with drink and fries and gulped it down! It was families who were there otherwise. Children are not expected to fast during Ramadan, so they were there to treat their kids to food. Only one other adult was eating while I was there.

I have not felt in any danger here in Morocco. People are friendly and nice in general. Of course, the shopkeepers and the guides want to get everyone's money and are a bother. But it seems to be a safe country for traveling. It is definitely an interesting one with an exotic feel everywhere!

One problem I have noticed several times is that people here often have bad breath. I think it must be from poor teeth. It doesn't seem to be the smell of any special diet.

Many people are traveliing today. I guess they are already heading home for the holidays which will come at the end of Ramadan. I am glad I already have my ticket with a 1st class seat reservation to go to Marrakesh tomorrow. The train will probably be crowded.

I bought dates, olives, and a chicken pastry to take with me on the train tomorrow. It will be a 7-hour trip, and I will have to leave before breakfast is served at my pension.

Fouad, the owner of the pension did me a favor tonight. He called a place he knows in Marrakesh and made me a reservation. It is at another riad similar to here--an old house that has been turned into a guest house--and it will include breakfast. I had written about 5 places seeking a reservation without getting a response. I think that many places probably will be closing for the holidays, so it will be a relief to arrive and not have to find a room on my own, especially since the touts make it so difficult to look by oneself.

It's my last night in Fes. It's been good to be here for so long. I was recognized today by a man who said, "Hello, you have been here all week!" I guess he had seen me earlier in the streets.

I decided to go to a restaurant for my last meal here. I ordered Tajine Kefta, a Moroccan stew with a tomato sauce, fried egg, and spicy meatballs. It came with lots of bread for soaking up the sauce and an extra bowl of sauce on the side to add as I continued eating. It was spicy and delicious.

Being here in Fes has reminded me daily of the stories of Paul Bowles, especially The Sheltering Sky. He lived in Tunesia, but my guess is that the countries are very similar. I can see how he was charmed by the people and the exotic aspect of life here, especially since he was in North Africa long before there were enough tourists for the touts to be so bad.

I finished reading Pompeii by Robert Harris today. It was an intereting tale even it it was possible to predict what would happen to the major characters (as well as what would happen to the city). I wavered between giving it it 2 1/2 stars or 3 stars out of 4. I guess it deserves 2 3/4 stars!

Saturday, Sept. 19, 2009--Fes to Marrakesh

I knew it was uphill to get out of the medina, but I had not noticed how steep it was until I started walking it with my luggage this morning. Not only is it steep, though; it is also a LONG climb. I managed it without any trouble other than the extra effort required. I got to the train station in 45 minutes. That's 15 minutes less than usual, but that was because it was too early for anyone to crowd the small strees or for traffic to slow me down at intersections.

I had to miss breakfast. I was sorry for that, for the breakfasts have been good and have made it possible to get through the day without eating in front of people who are observing the fast for Ramadan. The guesthouse, however, never serves breakfast before about 9:45-10:15. That was helpful when the meal had to last me, but it would have been nice to have it early today.

Today is supposed to be the last day of Ramadan. Unfortunately, no one is certain. The mullahs will meet tonight to look at the moon to see if it is in the faze necesary for Ramadan to be over or not. If not, there will be another day of fasting. If it is, the holidays will begin tomorrow and food can be bought/sold and eaten anytime.

The train platform is full. Many people are traveling. Today is like Christmas Eve at home. Everyone wants to be with their families tonight in case the fast ends and the feasting begins. I spoke with a Japanese man on the platform while waiting for the train to arrive. We talked about his travels and about my trips to Japan. He was a handsome young man except for one thing--his teeth were crooked, crowded, and brown. He really should get them repaired, because they draw one's attention from how attractive he is otherwise.

Northern Morocco where I have been is beautiful wth rolling hills that are planted, have olive trees or fruit orchards, have vinyards, etc. The only problem is the trash. Like the Japanese man's teeth, it detracts from the beauty of the place when it can be seen. People dump trash in many areas and it just stays there forever.

I took my food bag to the end of the car so I could eat without being observed. I had a pastry that was filled with something that reminded me of Rice-a-Roni with chicken. The WHOLE chicken must have been used, because a complete heart was inside the pastry at one point. I also had some cookies I had bought two days ago.

We arrived in Marrakesh at 16:30. I immediately bought a ticket to get me to the airport on Wednesday. The crowds on the train scared me today. People were standing everywhere. Fortunately, I could still get an assigned first class seat for the train that will get me to the airport on time.

Then I ran into a mess. I was told that pay phones were outside the terminal. I was supposed to call the riad and then take a taxi to the medina while the manager walked to meet me at a cafe to escort me through the maze of streets. A security officer offered me his phone when I said I needed a pay phone. While he dialed, a man from another riad and a taxi driver came up bothering me. I got the old story that I shoud come to that riad; that my paper was a mistake. Anyway, the security officer could not speak English, so I did not know if he was able to get the riad or not or what was said if he did. The other two men would not leave me alone. I just walked away frustrated and looking for a pay phone.

I went into a phone calling business and the man said it would cost 5 dirhams (about 65 cents) to call. I knew that was wrong. It had cost only 1 dirham to call in Fes. I left there even more frustrated and kept walking. Fortunately, I had a crude map which I had been given at the tourist office yesterday. Before I knew it, I was already 1/2 of the way to the medina and 1/3 of the way to where I needed to be in the medina. I kept going. Then I was at the walls of the medina. I found another call center and was able to make my call for half of what the other man had said. I made arrangements with the manager and kept walking to the giant square where he would meet me in front of the Cafe de France. I continued to ask directions along the way and had no problems.

Marrakesh is known for its big square--Jamaa el Fna. It is filled with snake charmers, magicians, other kinds of entertainers, orange juice sales carts, etc. It took a while, but I finally found the Cafe de France and was approached by Mehjoub, the manager of my riad--Inbiyawen. He guided me there.

I am staying at Riad Inbiawne. The riad is better in some respects and not as nice in others when compared to the one in Fes. It is an old home that has been converted into a riad, whereas the one in Fes was built recently inside an old building. This one has been modernized while keeping the old tiles and features of the original home which is nice. The quality of the construction is better, but the general look is not quite as fancy. This one is cleaner and lighter. But it is noisier.

I went back to the main square for a quick dinner. At night, restaurants set up stalls with long tables and benches for eating. Unforutnately, they offer meals at a price which Europeans think is reasonable but which are really outrageous for Morocco. Intead of eating there, I found a sandwich stall and ate an egg and cheese sandwich in local bread. I also bought two glasses of orange juice (at only 40 cents per glass).

Sunday, Sept. 20, 2009--Marrakesh

I am the only guest at Riad Inbiawne where I am staying. A French family had reserved 3 of the 5 rooms in the riad, but they canceled at the last minute due to an emergency and will not arrive before next weekend now. There may be other guests coming in a day or two. Some who were here went trekking in the mountains and will probably return before I leave.

Well, it is another day of fasting for the Moroccans. The mullahs got together last night and studied the moon. They decided that it had not reached the faze that signals the end of Ramadan. So everyone here is disappointed. They have one more day of fasting and planning before the holidays will begin. For me, however, it has its advantages. Today is a normal day instead of a holiday. Therefore, I was able to come to this cyber cafe. It also means that I can see and explore Marrakesh in its normal state before the 3-day holidays begin. Already today I have been wandering in the souk and the medina.

Fes is nicer than Marrakesh in many respects. It is more quiet and it seems older with its narrower lanes. It is easier to feel like one is lost in time in Fez. Unfortunately, Marrakesh allows motorcycles into its medina and often even cars. The young men can be very reckless with their driving. They are "studs" driving like maniacs. I hope I can stand being here for 3 days, since I hate such attitudes.

Note: This has been a bad keyboard with keys that stick. If there seem to be missing letters anywhere, it is because I didn't catch them when I hit the key and nothing happened.

Slow Days in Fes

Tuesday, Sept. 15, 2009--Fes (Continued)

It rained as I returned to the medina and my room. But it was clear again before I got there. Showers keep coming and going each day, but only occasionally being at a difficult time. I am carrying my umbrella, so I just whipped it out. It was interesting to see many local people hugging palm trees so that the few fronds at the top would keep the rain off them. The rain messed up my sandals, however. They are wearing out, and a rip allows water to get between the layers of rubber. Then those layers squeek as I walk--much like children's sneakers which are intended to squeek.

I stopped for soup again. There was a different man there this evening, and I was early enough that the big crowds had not formed. He spoke English very well and was so happy that I was buying his soup. He gave me a bigger portion than the man had given me the night before, asked where I was from, etc. To vary the meal a bit, I bought a baguette of bread rather than the flat bread to eat with it.

Wednesday, Sept. 16, 2009--Fes

I keep exploring the medina which is massive. There are wonderful pieces of architecture to be discovered. I am now confident enough to wander down the lesser-used streets and see what appears. Today, I found a deadend that was the entrance to a wonderful building. No one was there. I do not know what it was. But the tiled and carved walls were elaborate. The arches were beautiful. The doors with their paintings and hardware were impressive. Each day, I also pass the tanneries with their vats for coloring the leather. They can be smelled as one approaches. I also have started stopping and visiting with shopkeepers who stop me letting them know from the beginning that they should help a customer if one comes by, because I have no plans to buy.

I went into the city in the afternoon thinking I would go to the cyber cafe and maybe eat dinner after sunset. However, the cyber cafe closed at 17:30 and sunset was not until 18:32 tonight. It is officially marked by a canon being fired and the mosques screeming from their speakers. By then, I was bored with being in the center where nothing was open and had already walked back to the medina.

I searched for a place to buy something different. A few stands at the front of the medina had large flat breads that were sprinkled with powdered sugar and cinnamon. I asked what they were. They told me there was chicken, vegetables and nuts inside. I bought one and noticed when I ate it that it was deep fried with a crispy crust. It had a bit of sweet and sour taste. I also bought some honey soaked triangular-shaped pastries that were filled with chopped almonds. I took them back to the pension to eat them in the lobby.

During my explorations, I had noticed that no one was smoking and thought maybe they had a ban on smoking to avoid fires which could be devastating in the old medina. But walking back to my room after the Ramadan canon had fired, everyone I saw was smoking. So smoking is apparently something else that is barred as a part of the fasting during the daytime hours of Ramadan.

There is a woman from France traveling with her grandfather and staying at my pension. She and I were visiting after I ate. Then a woman from South Africa came. She joined us. The pension is small and is not full, but people keep showing up each day.

I finished reading A Spot of Bother by Mark Haddon. Meant to be funny, I only found myself laughing aloud a few times. But it was an interesting story that was told well and was a fast read. I gave it 3 stars out of 4. I think I have read something else by him in the past.

Thursday, September 17, 2009--Fes

I intended to go to Meknes, another old city that is only 40 minutes away by train. But when I got to the station, it would have been almost two hours before the next train. I gave up on the idea. Maybe I will see about taking a bus tomorrow. Anyway, I came here to the cyber cafe to catch up on things since I didn't get to do everything planned when they closed early yesterday.

Will be leaving here on Saturday to go to Marrakesh. I am uncertain about the availability of computers. I will travel all day Saturday. Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday are holidays here due to the end of Ramadan, so my guess is that the cyber cafes will be closed. Therefore, this may be my last post before I get to Barcelona. If so, I won't be on a computer again before the 24th.

Off to Morocco

Sunday, Sept. 13, 2009--Copenhagen to Casablanca

I was up at 5:10 after a somewhat restless night of sleep. Grethe gave me a light breakfast and sent me on my way. Saying goodbye to Grethe and making my way to the airport, I kept thinking, "This is the last time I will be doing this."

Check-in was in Terminal 2, the old terminal. Only one person was in line in front of me. I still had 1 1/2 hours before my flight and needed to get rid of my leftover Danish money, since I would not be returning again soon. I decided to spend it rather than exchange it. The exchange fee would have been $7. Although the airport prices are a lot more than the town prices, it was still better to buy than exchange. I got some of my favorite candies--Lifli by Anton Berg (plum with madeira gelatin over marzipan and coated in chocolate) and Marabou (the Swedish chocolate bar with hazelnuts). It made my backpack heavier than I would have liked, especially since it was already a bit heavy with books I had been given while in town.

My suitcase is also overstuffed. I have slowly been taking things home that I had stored at Nurse Grethe's. This time, I had to deal with everything left, since I would not be returning. I gave her my old terrycloth bathrobe and my hair dryer which is good only with 220 wiring. I left two pairs of shoes for her to offer to someone who wears that size. I packed my gym bag, a sweater that belonged to Arne, and some house shoes that Arne had written his initials on to identify them as his rather than mine. I also packed two gifts that I need to take to Texas.

I have been worried about going to Morocco. There will be hassles there. All the guidebooks warn about touts, guides, difficulties finding one's way, etc. My guess is that I cannot ask questions related to directions without people expecting me to hire them as a guide. Will see.
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I arrived and faced long lines at immigration. The airplane attendents did not give us the forms that should be completed for admission to the country, and there was no indication that they were needed until I was a the window. I had to move to the side and complete the form and then wait for service again. My luggage was already on the carousel when I came out, so I grabbed it and headed to the ATM machine to get cash. That done, I looked for the train. I had only 10 minutes before one would leave. I got my ticket and found a place to sit.

It was difficult knowing where I was. The names of the stations are not well displayed. The voice announcement over speakers was not loud nor clear enough to understand. Fortunately, I was able to determine when we got to my station, because the train continued and I would have been in a mess if I had not figured it out.

Before leaving the station, I bought my ticket to go to Fes tomorrow. I decided to buy the first class ticket based on what the guidebooks had said. It costs 50% more, but it guarantees a seat. In second class, it is possible that one might have to stand.

Walking out of the station, I could see the hotel where I had decided to spend the night. I was able to avoid the taxi touts and walk directly there. A man outside took my bag and walked me upstairs where he registered me. It was a simple room, but it was also a cheap price and the guidebook had described it as being so. It had only a bottom sheet. I always hate that. I would have liked a top sheet, too, since it was going to be necessary to use a blanket during part of the night.

It still was only late afternoon, so I wandered some in the areas near the station and my hotel. Unfortunately, it was very quiet. Apparently Sunday is a closing day here. I had thought that maybe Friday would be the closing day since this is an Islamic country. Rereading the pages I copied from a guidebook, it said that shops are closed on Sundays.

Grethe had made me some snack foods to take with me. I am glad, since nothing nearby seemed to offer food. I ate the sandwiches in my room along with a banana.

Monday, Sept. 14, 2009--Casablanca to Fes

I finished reading Hope's Boy by Andrew Bridge while waiting for time to leave for my train. It is based on the true story of a foster child who managed to get an education and become a lawyer and then worked to fight the system that seems rather indifferent to the needs of the children and their families in their attempts to get the children out of dangerous situations. I gave the book 2 1/2 stars out of 4.

It's a bit difficult going back into travel mode after leaving Copenhagen. For the past several years, I have headed back home when leaving there. Last year, I stopped to see friends in Switzerland, but that was a short visit and was not like this year where I am back in a country with hassles. There seems to be resistance in my mind to being cautious again and to returning to having to negotiate hotel prices, deal with touts, etc.

Morocco is a bit like India, a bit like Brazil, a bit like Cairo, a bit like Istanbul, etc. Of coure, it is its own unique self. It is mostly dry and brown, but there are irrigated areas that are extravagantly lush and green. There are slums (people living in temporary shacks) that are as bad as I have seen anywhere. It is one of the countries that apparently has no organized garbage pickup system; the countryside and rooftop views are spoiled by randomly placed garbage dumps. n general, the apartment buildings are drab with cluttered balconies, ugly beige paint, and often with disposed items on the roofs. So far, people are nice, but yesterday was quiet and today is a travel day. I must remain warry once I am in the tourist areas.
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It seemed to go fine when I first arrived. Then things fell apart! I walked to the medina (old walled city( getting help along the way mainly from shop keepers to avoid people who might think it was an invitation to be my guide. I got help from a restaurant employee, a policeman, and others, too. When I first entered the medina, I was told to go straight through. I did. But then I could not figure out where to go. A man who obviously wanted to be my guide started bothering me as I searched for shopkeepers and eventually a policeman to help. He knew I did not want him as a guide, but he told me which way to go. I continued that direction. More people helped along the way. When I was near where someone had said would be my turning point, I asked at another shop. A man standing there with a motorcycle to the side said that he was the owner of my pension I was seeking. Then they all said that a man seated inside was an employee. He wanted to take me there, but I began to become suspicious. Something didn't seem right. I started walking away. The "employee" came to me and said that the man was crazy but that he worked there and would take me. By then I didn't trust him and told him so. I said that if he were really an employee he should have spoken up immediately to dispute the man who was saying he was the owner and was wanting me to go with him. He became upset with the fact that I would not trust him. I just stopped and stood by a wall and insisted that he go on without out me. I pulled out a book and started reading it, thinking that if he was an employee he would send the owner for me. Soon a man came up asking if I wanted the Pension Sakaya. I asked if he was the owner, and he said he wasn't but that he would take me there. I refused even though he said he would take me for free. I wasn't in a trusting mood at all. I said that the employee would send the owner if he was really an employee and, if not, I would find it on my own. He said he would go tell them. A few minutes later, a man came up to me out of breath and said that he was the owner. I asked his name, and it was the name of one of the owners. But then I asked him my name, since he should know who has a reservation for that day. He said he could not remember and made a typing movement to imply he had typed to me but could not recall the name. Although he did not look like an owner, I decided to follow him knowing that I could stop at any time and that I would not have to pay him if he took me there and was not the manager, since he had lied and said he was. I got a little worried as we took a back, twisting route. But that is he way the medina is. We did eventually come to a narrow passageway which led to a door with a small sign that said "Pension Sakaya." He rang the bell, then, as I expected, disappeared after the door opened proving that he wasn't really the owner but probably was paid to go get me and bring me there. Who opened the door? The "employee." He apparently did work there. I was so upset that I didn't say a word, and he could sense that I was upset. I followed him inside recognizing the interior from the Internet site. He offered me something to drink and I refused. He gave me the registration papers, and I completed them. He showed me to my room, and I entered it, pulled the curtain shut (leaving the door open for ventilation) and stayed in the room for 2 1/2 hours. I was not in the mood to do anything, and I wanted him to realized that I was VERY upset about what he allowed to happen.

When I did go out, I was hungry. But I knew that food probably would not be available yet because of Ramadan. Muslims are not allowed to eat until after sunset. Therefore, I went wandering to try to learn the neighborhood and my way back to the pension. I let Zak, the "employee" who is apparently trusted by the owners who do not speak English, walk me to the main street, show me the identifying features for the turning point, and give me his phone number. I continued to be quiet and obviously unhappy with him. I returned to the door of the pension just to prove that I could find it from the main street, then I returned and started exploring.

The medina consists of narrow, twisting, streets that go off in many directions. There is no way to keep from getting somewhat lost. But there are ways to find one's way back to a known area. Most helpful are signs for "trails" through the medina. I wrote down that I was on the pink trail in the area called Bab R'Mina in addition to the information that Zak had given me. Then I went up the main street. I found an outlet to the outside roadway. I continued on up until I came to a gate that also opened to the outside. I went back the other direction making sure that I could figure out when I was back at the turning point for my pension. Then I continued down the street that direction. It brought me to a t-shaped intersection where I had to turn right or left. I memorized the features of that intersection and continued to the left to see if it would bring me to a gate. I gave up before it did and turned around and retraced my steps.

By this time, shops were beginning to close and a drizzle was starting to fall. I was hungry and knew that I needed something before heading back to the room. I remembered a market area near the far (top) end of my street. I headed there. The drizzle got harder, so I ducked into a simple looking restaurant. The owner was so excited to have me and immediately offered a set meal. When I asked how much it was, he quoted 70 dirhams ($8.50 U.S.). I knew that was too much, because I had seen a similar menu on a sign near my hotel the night before for 25 dirhams! I left with him asking if I wanted a sandwich for 25 dirhams. Of course, I knew that would be a $4 sandwich which would be a ridiculous price here. I continued in the heavy drizzle to the market area. I looked first at a place that had fish, but they were small and had their bones, so I decided against that. Then I saw a crowd. They were getting bags of what looked like soup. I got in line. I tried to see how much to give, but people seemed to give different amounts and no one was getting change. I tried to give the man a coin for 10 dirhams, and he ignored me. A young man beside me obviously asked why, then explained to me in French that I had to give 5, 6, or 7 dirhams. Apparently, he required exact change due to the fast pace of his business, and there were different sizes of bags of soup that could be bought. I pulled out 6 dirhams and handed it to him. He made me a bag, ladling from a huge pot of prepared soup that was already 2/3 empty. He put it in a plastic bag, poured some olive oil in it, and then sprinkled it with 3 kinds of spices. He tied a knot in the top of the bag and handed it to me. It was HOT. I pulled out a large pastic bag I carry and put the soup in there.

I headed next to a nearby shop selling breads. I bought a round, flat loaf a bread and put it in the bag. As I headed back to my pension, people could see through my bag and see what I had. Several shopkeepers smiles as if they were pleased I was eating local. One actually asked, "You have soup with olive oil?" I said, "Yes," and he gave me a thumbs up.

When I got back to the pension, I rang the bell for entrance. Zak answered. I asked if he had a bowl and a spoon I could use. He said there was a kitchen upstairs and led the way. He misunderstood that I wanted to cook and questioned if I would cook just for me. I explained that my food was already cooked and that I just needed to put it in a bowl. He helped me find a bowl and cut the bag and empty the soup in it. I got the impression that he was genuinely trying to redeem himself for what had happened earlier. He explained that it was made with chickpeas.

Since it was raining, I ate my soup and bread in the covered atrium of the building rather than on the rooftop. It was wonderful and just what I needed. I was full afterwards. I washed the dishes and went back to my room to read and eat a couple of bites of chocolate.

Tuesday, Sept. 15, 2009--Fes

I bought my train ticket yesterday to stay here for 5 days. I was questioning that after the problems I had yesterday with Zak. Today, I feel better about it.

The Pension Sekaya is really nice. My room is the one immediately to the left downstairs in the top photo at the website. Like many rooms in old houses, there is no window. Instead, the double doors open to let light inside from the covered atrium. When the doors are closed, there are lights. The floor is brick and blue tile. The walls are white stucco. The ceiling is wooden beamed. The doors are elaborately painted and have fancy brass hardware. The archway of the door has fancy tilework and detailed carvings representing Islamic styles. There is an old carpet on one wall and a painting on another. There are very nice silk fabric draperies that can be drawn to cover the opening when the doors are open for ventilation. It is quite simple but elegant.

Zak prepared breakfast and served it to me and other guests at 10:15. I was glad that it was late, since there will be no food offered until close to night time due to Ramadan. I had "a la mente," green tea with mint. I also had a pot of coffee that came with cream and sugar on the side. There was a warm piece of thick, flat bread. To go with it were cream cheese, butter, black olives, and jam. It was filling and good.

Among the other guests here are 5 young Spaniards and a couple of young Asians. They have apparently hooked up and are exploring together. I left them alone except to offer a book I had if anyone read books in English. There was no taker.

I explored even further today. Often, I had the usual young man approach me to offer to be my guide, to take me to the bath house, to take me to the Jewish Quarter, to give me massage, etc. They don't like to give up. But I wasn't taking their offers. Instead, I let myself just smile and enjoy the changes which often became quite crude as they started describing what I could experience if I would take them up on their offers.

I went to three cyber cafes before I found one (far away in the New City) that knew how to set the computer for me to type in English. The keyboards here are designed for French typing, and the letters are placed in different places than they are for English. I do not know how often I will be able to be on computers due to this problem. Do not be alarmed if I am not online for a few days at a time.

It is now 16:00. The stores will start closing in half an hour. I must walk back to the walled city. I may have soup again tonight!

Saying Last Good-Byes to Friends and a City

Thursday, Sept. 10, 2009--Copenhagen

This is my last visit planned to Copenhagen. For 25 years I have been coming here--for a total of 3-5 months a year split into two visits when Arne was alive and 1 visit per year for about 8 days for the last 5 years since his death. The latter has been possible because of my around-the-world tickets which made it easy to continue to stop and see the city and my friends. However, the around-the-world trips are coming to an end. No. 10 is the end. That makes this the last planned trip to Copenhagen. I may return in 3-4 years or so as a part of a trip to see parts of Europe that I still want to visit, but that will depend on the value of the dollar, the availability of free tickets using frequent flier points, etc. Therefore, this week has been a week of saying good-byes.

Today was my day to say good-bye to Old Grethe. She is 86 years old and has been having health problems recently. I have known her since the beginning having met her during the first week I was here. She was Arne's closest friend from when he was only 18 years old, and we saw her often. She came to Texas in 1986 for a trip which she often refers to as the trip of her life. She has always been an active woman who kept up with technology, read lots of books, had lots of friends, etc. But about 4 years ago she started developing macular degeneration. Over the years, she has lost most of her sight, had to give up her computer, had to stop reading and watching TV, etc. Furthermore, she has back problems and has fallen. Although she resisted it, she now has home help for shopping, for reading and writing correspondence, for cleaning the apartment and for delivering hot meals. It is difficult for her to accept what has happened to her, but she maintains a positive attitude saying that she was lucky that she was fine until she was 82. As with my previous visits for the past few years, we talked about our friendship. We talked about her trip to Texas. We talked about missing Arne. My guess is that she will not be here when I return in the future, so it was difficult to say good-bye. I did not tell her it was my last visit, though. Instead, I told her I would continue to come to see her each time I am in Denmark. As usual, she was standing in her window waving to me from her 3rd floor apartment even though she could not see me as I walked away.

On the way back to Nurse Grethe's apartment, I passed Domus Vista, the apartment where Arne and I lived for the 20 years we were together. I entered and walked through the lobby while hoping not to see anyone who would recognize me. I entered the supermarket and looked through the front of it without entering further beyond. Then I set off across the parking lot to leave it all behind. So much has changed in 5 years.

Paulette, my Jamaican friend who was a colleague of Arne's invited Grethe and me to dinner Thursday night. She lives in a wonderful old-style apartment which she has decorated with bright paintings and nice furnishings. It was a wonderful evening of being together with great conversation and food. We started the night with Jamaican rum punch--a mixture of several juices and Jamaican rum. Then we went to the dinner table for shrimp cocktails and white wine. Then the excitement began. Paulette and cooked Jamaican lamb curry--a nice mixture of spices and lamb in a sauce. We had it over basmati rice with salad and papadams on the side. It left our lips and tongues tingling!! Afterwards, we had ice cream with prunes in rum. Paulette and Grethe both had to be at work the next morning, so we had to call it an early evening. Paulette hates to fly, but at least I could leave her hoping that she may stop in Texas some day when she makes a trip to Jamaica and to Florida to see her family.

Friday, Sept. 11, 2009--Copenhagen

Grethe was expecting delivery of a new sofa and chair today. I volunteered to stay at the apartment to accept delivery. I needed to do some catch-up work anyway in terms of planning my travels. I now have reservations for a hotel in Fes and another in Barcelona.

When Grethe got here at 14:00, the furniture still was not here. We waited until 16:00, the deadline for when it was to be delivered, before she called. They apologized and told her they should be here no later than 17:15. We were invited to dinner with Jens and Robert at 18:00.

I left early to see Jens and Robert, since they were having a problem with their e-mail program which they thought I could solve, while Grethe stayed to take delivery of the furniture and then ride her bike to join us for dinner. The problem seemed to be related to the server of a a friend. E-mails were coming back saying that a connection could not be made with free.fr to deliver them.

Grethe was able to arrive just at 18:00 and just before the other guests, Kurt and Finn. We all sat on the glass-enclosed balcony to have a welcome drink of sparkling wine. Then we moved to the dining table for the meal. The first course was shrimp coctails with white wine. After that, we continued with white wine while having fresh salmon poached in Noilly Prat with salt, pepper, lemon. That was served with warm, crusty Italian bread and with potato salad made with sliced, boiled new potatoes, chopped red onion, oil, and vinegar. We switched to red wine at some point during the meal. For dessert, we had port wine with a strawberry cream tart.

As usual when Kurt is present, there were plenty of funny stories. Grethe was teased often. I was teased some. A little after 23:00, however, it was time to say good-bye. It was very difficult, since Jens and Robert and Kurt and Finn have been among my best friends for all these years. It seems impossible that I may not be seeing them again in the future.

I got my first look at Grethe's new sofa and chair when we returned to her apartment. They have a natural wood frame and are upholstered in a black wool fabric. They are very nice and very attractive. She has adopted the chair as her special place to sit, so guests will be sitting on the sofa when they come.

Saturday, Sept. 12, 2009--Copenhagen

Grethe and I did some re-arranging around the apartment this morning. I helped her reposition her rug in the living room so that the legs of the sofa were on it and so that it was away from the wall leaving some of the wooden flooring to be seen around the edges.

I spent part of the morning starting to organize my suitcase for my travels tomorrow. I am trying to pack some of the things that I still have stored here. And I am getting rid of some of the others that I cannot use or cannot fit into the bag. After a week here, almost everything had come out of the bag and needed to be repositioned for the first time since I left Texas.

Arne's niece Gitte, her husband Carit, their daughter Sascha, and her boyfriend Kristian are planning a trip to Texas in the spring of next year. They invited me to lunch today to discuss plans for the trip. They set out a typical, huge Danish buffet for making open-faced sandwiches. They had white bread and two kinds of brown bread. They had butter for spreading on the breads. There were pickled herrings, curried herrings, smoked salmon, boiled shrimps, fried fish filets, fried tenderloin, pate with fried bacon and mushrooms, etc. We drank snaps and soft drinks. I had pear cider. Afterwards, we had cheeses with crackers, then chocolates and candies.

The main purpose for our get-together, however, was to discuss the trip to Texas. They talked about what they thought they might want to do. I asked them questions. By the time I left, we had a general plan for their visit breaking it into 3 parts--a couple of days when they first arrive, an out-of-town trip for a week, then a week back in San Antonio during Fiesta San Antonio. I gave them a long list of topics to research on the Internet to help them decide what they would like to see and do while there.

Grethe insisted on cooking a farewell dinner for tonight. I had suggested that we just make sandwiches from leftovers that she has in her refrigerator. However, she baked a whole chicken which she had stuffed with parsley, spread with butter, and sprinkled with garlic powder. She made a salad with lettuce, tomatoes, cucumber, peppers, and feta cheese to go with it and baked a crusty flute of bread. We started with a gin and tonic and then shared a beer with the meal. She is now making coffee and serving it with one of our favorite Danish pastries--dagmar tærte.

Settling Travel Plans

Tuesday, Sept. 8, 2009--Copenhagen (Continued)

After spending the morning trying to figure out an alternative plan for getting to the U.S. that would allow me to avoid the problem that getting from Venezuela to Aruba was presenting, I settled on going to Barcelona. It's a city that everyone seems to love and that I have not visited yet. And it is located on the normal routes that would allow me to go there without having to go through more airports than my ticket allows. The one problem it created is that the decreased distance would mean that I could finish my travels this year under the minimum needed to maintain my frequent flier elite status (which has privileges that are worthwhile). I solved that problem by choosing a routing from Barcelona to San Antonio through Frankfurt and Los Angeles. It gives me enough mileage to get me just a few hundred miles over the 25,000 mile minimum rather than just under it if I had chosen the routes through Chicago, Washington (DC), Denver, or Charlotte.

I went to the Thai Airways office, since my ticket was issued by that airline. Fortunately, no one was being assisted, so they saw me immediately. I could tell the woman was a bit hesitant when I first explained that I wanted to change the ticket. No one wants to work on these tickets, because it can take about two hours normally to re-ticket a person. She accepted the task, however, because the airline issuing the ticket MUST do so; that's a rule they have implemented since no one WANTS to do so. She mentioned the long period of time needed and told me to leave the information with her and that she would e-mail me when it had been done.

I stopped at the Royal Copenhagen Store and bought Grethe a gift. I looked for something appropriate in Romania, but I just couldn't find anything there that I thought she would appreciate. Here, I got her a crystal glass bowl with a Royal Copenhagen design etched into the sides.

The rest of the day, I prepared for dinner. I bought groceries to make guacamole and burgers. Grethe always asks for those each time I am here.

Hans, Grethe's nephew, came for dinner with us in the evening. I have heard about him for years and have seen photos of him, but this was my first time to meet him. He was such a delight with a smile that just never stops! We had guacamole with corn chips. Then I made our burgers fresh with each of us having two of them. We talked about so many topics:

Hans' work as a policeman and his future hopes to be a body guard with PET (the Danish CIA) now that he has been accepted for training there.

Hans' adoration of Barack Obama. Like Obama, Hans has a white mother (from Denmark) and a black father (from Nigeria). He is so proud of Obama's success and of his skills as an orator.

Hans' experience on the TV Show Robinson about 10 years ago and the resulting celebrity status and what it meant for his life. That's the Danish version of the show called Survivor in the U.S.

He is an impressive young man and such a pleasure to be around. I've known his mother (Grethe's and Morten's sister) for years, and I can see why she is so proud of him.

Wednesday, Sept. 9, 2009--Copenhagen

Grethe and I went by her bank to get rid of some of my Danish Kroner. I had been withdrawing money here to be changed to dollars, since Venezuela has such strange policies that make exchanging cash give you 3 times as much local money to spend as making a withdrawal from an ATM gives. Now that my travel plans have changed, I needed to get rid of the extra Kroner. Therefore, we stopped at her bank and she had them exchanged for Euros that I can use when I am in Barcelona.

From there, I went to the Thai Airlines office to pick up my new ticket. The woman was much friendlier today, saying that it had gone so smoothly. She kept complimenting me. She even said that she thought that I probably knew the rules for those tickets better than she does. My guess is that it only took her about 15 minutes to key my changes into the computer. The usual 2-hour length it takes involves dealing with the complications that usually develop due to the routing having too many stops, too much distance, etc. Anyway, I paid the fee to change the ticket and the additional taxes and went to explore town.

I really have not spent much time in the city since Arne died. Every time I walk down a major street, through a park, etc., there is a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. I still get depressed due to all the memories of the times we spent together in these places. That's one reason this will be my last trip here. But it was a sunny day and I forced myself to take a farewell walk through the center of town.

From there, I walked to see Jens and Robert. They had invited me for a light lunch. We had Danish open-faced sandwiches--one with smoked salmon, one with Danish meatballs, and one with a French pate that had red peppers in it. We chatted and ate. I didn't stay late, because they have afternoon rituals that I didn't want to interrupt.

In the evening, I was invited to have dinner with Ulf and Allan. I walked there going through the park that used to be one of my favorite places in town. Like walking through the city, however, the pleasure of being there is mostly gone due to the memories of the past.

I have known Ulf and Allan for years, but I had not visited them in their apartment in town. I have only been to their summer house before. The apartment is on a grand boulevard in Copenhagen and is huge. It was just the three of us, so it was a nice, casual evening. I got a tour of the apartment. Then we sat in the kitchen and had a glass of wine as the dinner was cooking. To eat, we moved to the dining room where we had roasted duck breast with a crispy, salted skin; boiled new potatoes; steamed carrots; and a nice sauce. Afterwards, we sat in the living room to have coffee and talk. We have discussed the idea of their coming to Texas for years, and it seems that they may finally do so.

Grethe had been to a birthday party for the night, and she had just gotten home when I walked back into the apartment. We visited briefly, but we were both tired and decided to call it a night.

Travel Planning

Sunday, Sept. 6, 2009--Copenhagen

The weather is quite nice here in Copenhagen. There have been some showers, but mostly it has been sunny. Today, I took a train to Farum, a suburb about 45 minutes away to visit Arne's family at their campground where they spend the summers in a camping wagon.

Evy, Arne's sister, has been in the hospital for 4 weeks, but she was back at the campground and is getting well. She had an accident where her leg was injured by a gardening tool as she stood up from her stool after weeding her flowers. Due to diabetes, she is slow to heal and needed special care. But while in the hospital a blood clot formed and lodged in her neck. They had to perform surgery to remove it. The only good part of all of it is that the doctors have found that her general health is fine. Therefore, when she is finally mended, she should be fine for a while!

Arvind picked me up at the train station. And Holgar and Anita came to visit during the time I was there. We had coffee and Danish pastry. It was good to see them all, but it was difficult saying goodbye knowing that I might not see them again. I have no present plans to return to Copenhagen. Since it will be a few years from now if I do, I have to worry about whether people as old as Evy and Arvind will still be here.

Upon my return to Copenhagen, Grethe's brother Morten and his wife came for dinner. Grethe cooked one of his favorites--stuffed peppers, potatoes and green beans. Dinner was great, and Grethe and I purposely avoided drinking alcohol after all the partying we have been doing lately. As usual, it was nice to see Morten and Helle. Since last year, they have bought a summer house that is on an island accessed only by ferry. They showed me photos and told me about it. It looks like a wonderful place with a view across the cattle fields to the sea.

Monday, Sept. 7, 2009--Copenhagen

I have not slept well since arriving here. I awaken early with worries about my travels from here. The first stop, Morocco, should be fine. But I keep encountering problems related to Venezuela. And it is complicated by the fact that to return from there, I had to book a flight from Aruba rather than from Venezuela. Today, I spent much time researching flights from various airports in Venezuela to Aruba. Part of the problem is that Venezuela puts a departure tax of approximately $100 on all international facts. With Aruba being just 15 miles (25 km) off the coast of Aruba, there apparently is little demand for flights that will be as expensive as they must be with that departure tax. For some reason, there have been no ferry services between the two countries for years. I finally found a flight that would go through Columbia to Aruba and cost over $200 without including the $100 departure tax. I found another flight that MAY exist that is non-stop and just about the same price. But nothing seems firm. That causes me to worry about getting to Venezuela and then NOT being able to get to Aruba for my return flight. Added to that concern is the knowledge that there are lots of safety warnings about traveling there. By the end of the day, I was exhausted dealing with it and starting to question whether I should change my travel plans and skip going to Venezuela.

Grethe came home from work, and we made frikadeller (Danish meatballs) together. It was a quiet dinner here together, again with no alcohol. Afterwards, Grethe watched Robinson, the local version of Survivor (and also its predecessor, since the local show started about three years before the U.S. version was broadcast) on TV.

Tuesday, Sept. 8, 2009--Copenhagen

I was awake at 3:45 worrying about my travels again. I got on the computer and started researching alternatives where I could stop for a few days if I decided to skip going to Venezueala. My first attempt was to try going to Iceland, since the cost of traveling there has decreased dramatically lately and it is a place I would like to see. That got eliminated as a possibility because of the number of airline segements required to go there and continue to San Antonio would cause my total on my ticket to be two more than is allowed. I tried Halifax and ran into a similar problem. I tried Dublin and did not like the choices I had for airlines. As of now, I am considering Barcelona. There are two problems related to it: I will arrive later than I want to arrive, and I will have to depart earlier in the morning than I like to depart for such a long travel day. Otherwise, it seems fine. Today, I will go to the Thai airlines office today to see about changing the ticket.

Partying in Copenhagen

Friday, Sept. 4, 2009--Copenhagen

Grethe was off to work on Friday, and I stayed at her apartment all day starting my planning for the last two main segments of my travel this year--Morocco and Venezuela. The latter is going to be a problem. Security seems to be a major concern there, and dealing with money is a major hassle. Based on everything I read, Venezuela must be much like South Africa or worse in terms of security. There are warnings about not being out in the evenings. There are parts of every city with warnings. I am hoping it will not be as bad as it sounds once I get there. For instance, there were warnings (not as strong) regarding Bulgaria and Romania, yet I had no problems at all. My biggest problem is that I am arriving at night (around 20:00) with only expensive alternatives for getting away from the airport that are safe and getting to places that are safe for sleeping for the night. Regarding money, their system is set up to try to force tourists to use an exchange rate that essentially almost triples the costs. The government sets the official rate, and that is the one applied if using a credit card to make a purchase or an ATM cash withdrawal. However, if one has cash and exchanges on the black market, there is a much better rate. Here's an interesting article that discusses it: What I need to do is make sure that I have enough dollars when I enter the country to exchange to pay for all my costs while there. That means that I must withdraw some money either here in Denmark, in Morocco, or on the day I am in Portugal and exchange them for dollars, since I do not currently have enough dollars in my money belt to cover the 20 days I will be there.

Jens and Robert invited Grethe and me for dinner at their place. Jens opened a bottle of sparkling wine and served it with potato chips to welcome us. It was a casual dinner at the table in the kitchen--pizza topped with tomato sauce, mozarella, and black olives along with a salad. Later, we had some dark chocolate with a cherry-flavored cream filling. While Jens and Grethe visited, I helped Robert solve a problem he was having related to opening attachments on his e-mails and advised him about purchasing and installing a router and a second computer with speakers so that he can be on the computer at the same time as Jens and can listen to French radio on the computer.

Saturday, Sept. 5, 2009--Copenhagen

Torben and Erik invited Grethe, Jens, Robert, and me to come to their summer house in Tisvildeleje for a long afternoon luncheon with them and Ulf and Alan who also have a nearby summer house. Grethe and I were ready early and went walking through the streets of Valby, the neighborhood where she lives which was having a street festival this weekend. Then we met Jens and Robert at the station at 11:30 and took the trains northword, including the small local train called "Grisen" which serves the countryside. We arrived at the Hølløse station at 13:30.

It was a cloudy day, and at one time while we were there it rained heavily. But their summer house is bright and open with lots of windows looking out on the garden. We sat inside and visited and drank and ate. They served cosmopolitans as a beginning drink along with pretzel sticks. For lunch, we started with smoked salmon and dill on Torben's freshly made bread served with white wine. Then for the main course we had roasted lamb, boiled new potatoes, steamed green beans, and tzatziki (Greek yogurt/cucumber salad) served with red wine. afterwards, we had coffee with chocolate-dipped coconut macaroons. Time just seemed to fly. Everyone was talking and enjoying themselves. It was 19:00 when we started getting ready to walk to the station to catch the train back into town, and it was 21:00 when we reached the apartment. Grethe and I relaxed and watched TV for a while, but we were tired and went to bed by 22:00.

It is going to be a busy week. Almost every day I will be seeing people. And during the daytime, I have to spend much more time on the computer and reading my guidebook pages planning my travels to Morocco and Venezuela. That means that my 10 days here are going to pass very fast.