#21 Quebec, Rügen, Bruges, Bavaria

Originally intended as a small book, “Glimpses: In which a Casual Traveler Ruminates on Passing Scenes—1989-2011″, I should like to share it with my readers in a more informal manner as a series of Blogs. 

Canada: Quebec City: “Rue des Artistes” — a North American version of the “Via Margutta” in Rome…odd how two cities from different continents can merge in the mind.

Germany: Rügen: While wandering this small island off the coast of northern Germany, I was delighted to come across the same sharply, pointed rocks along the shore that captured the attention of Caspar David Friedrich, the great German Romanticist painter. Again, that empathic shiver!

Belgium: Bruges: While visiting the Jarczyks in Cologne, we rent a car and take Cornelia’s mother Elsie and my daughter Barbara (Jonason) to Bruges, the “Venice of the North”, for a one-day sight-seeing trip. Boat ride along the canals; Michelangelo’s Madonna in the church. Barbara buys lace as a souvenir of the trip (I wonder if she still has it tucked away someplace?).

Watercolor of Neuschwanstein by Heinrich J. Jarczyk

Germany: Neuschwanstein, Bavaria: Rode up in a horse-drawn open carriage to this fairy-tale castle perched on a mountain built by a king whose subjects called him mad. Fitting. Yet, about 100 years later the descendants of those who called him crazy used this castle to house the thousands of works of art stolen by Nazi thugs from France during WWII. Not so fitting. I guess “madness” is a relative term.

#20

Originally intended as a small book, “Glimpses: In which a Casual Traveler Ruminates on Passing Scenes—1989-2011″, I should like to share it with my readers in a more informal manner as a series of Blogs. 

Elsie Seckel has what was probably her very first beer. And then she had another.

Germany: Cologne (an old tavern): Elsie (my mother-in-law) drinking German beer — something we thought we’d never see. Two glasses!

USA: NYC: I was invited to attend the opening reception of an art show which featured the work of a Ukrainian artist — Natalia Pohrebinska — that I had profiled in ART TIMES a few months before and, upon entering the gallery, was pleasantly surprised to see that the artist had framed my article and had hung it in a prominent place on the wall. A few inches above the framed article was a few words in what I had rightly assumed to be the Ukrainian language, its Cyrillic alphabet beyond my knowledge or ability to figure out. I had supposed it to be a reference to my article, perhaps some words to bring it to the notice of visitors to the show, and felt pleased that the artist had taken the time to frame it and hang it alongside her work. My curiosity grew, however, as I saw people glance up at the strange words, some exchanging a few words amongst themselves from time to time. Unable to curb my curiosity any longer, I drifted towards two women who, after looking up at the article, were speaking in what I supposed was Ukrainian. “Pardon me,” I interrupted. “Could you tell me what that says up there above that article?” I was rewarded with a friendly smile. “Of course,” came the heavily accented voice of the woman nearest me. “It says, ‘Do Not Smoke’.”  Не палити
Instant ego deflation! Don’t let anyone ever tell you that writers are above all that…

Newgrange, Painting by Raymond J. Steiner

Ireland: Boyne Valley: Exploring along the River Boyne one day and unexpectedly came upon one of Ireland’s famous megalithic tombs, “Newgrange”. Located in County Meath, the tomb is uncannily laid out with a stone passage that captures the direct rays of sunlight at the Winter Solstice that lights up the interior cavern. Primitives? I don’t think so!