Iceland

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In June of 1997 we attended Kate's annual KBS conference. This year it was in Reykjavík Iceland! We had never been there before so we pretty excited to see the country. How far north could we be, when would the sun set,  etc. We flew Delta through Boston on the way there (where we had a brief visit) and through Baltimore on our way back (where we almost missed our flight).

This blog was composed in April of 2021 from notes and stories compiled at the time. The photo album at left (click on the image) is from slides taken on the trip and scanned during April of 2021 during the COVID pandemic.

Some of the notes in Kate's photo album are pretty interesting and worth sharing ....

Sagas from Iceland -- Juri the Lawyer

The first night in Reykjavík, we went to a restaurant that specialized in Icelandic lobster. There was a lone man seated at the next table. We spent some time going over the menu deciding what to order. During this process, he leaned over and apologized for interrupting but said that he went to the restaurant about once a month and he highly recommended the lobster soup. Peculiar travel suggestions being dancing lessons from god (that's Kate's guidance from Kurt Vonnegut), we followed his recommendation and the soup was, indeed, very good (of course, it should be at $19 a bowl!).

When he had finished his dinner, he told us he was going upstairs to enjoy his coffee and he would be very happy if we would join him when we were done our dinners. The washroom was upstairs, and Kate had noticed on her visit there that there was a rather brothel-looking lounge area where people were having coffee and liqueurs and had commented on this strange set up to Reg.

Peculiar travel suggestions... etc., we went up to join him, even though it was getting rather late (it was getting close to midnight but this seemed a good place to watch the sunset). By the time we arrived, Juri was quite intoxicated and very hospitable, expansive and funny.

He told us about his dad's farm where he had been eiderdown picking ("my fingers still stink — here smell them " Thankfully, this was said to Reg who obliged! He said he was a lawyer who specialized in evicting people from their homes ("very interesting legal issues"). We discussed the violence that reportedly occurs among youth in Reykjavík after the bars close on Friday nights. He attributed the violence, especially the increase in knifings to the fact that the parents of these kids had used drugs. We discussed with him Reg's halfhearted search for his former graduate student colleague. After a bit he became involved in a lengthy argument with the waitress in Icelandic, following which he handed his car keys to her and she left. We were watching this quizzically and so he turned to us and said that he had drank too much and couldn't pay his bill and they were holding his car. We thought this was pretty funny (and not a bad idea), but then the waitress returned with a phone book wrapped in cellophane and gave this to him with his car keys. He had sent her out to his car to get one of the new phone books he had recently obtained so that we could look up Reg's former colleague! He also had to underline for us his name in the phone book as well as his dad's name and address and give us the phone book. We gave him our phone number in London and told him to look us up if he came to Canada. He told us those sorts of invitations were asking for trouble (we weren't as intoxicated as he was but we were mellow enough to figure we could risk it).

Sagas from Iceland — The search for Egils beer glasses

Not too many years ago Iceland was famous for near-beers. After prohibition they allowed only near beers of about 2% alcohol (I got stuck with that one day, and even worse another day — beware of Malt Extract but that's another story). People brewed their own and bars spiked the beer with vodka so that ultimately by about 1988 they gave up and allowed real beer — the revolution had begun.

Now they make a couple of beers — Egils and Viking beer (probably only one beer as the Viking beer seems to be made by Egils as well and tastes about the same). They may make more but we never saw any, and all the bars seemed to serve Tuborg (Danish) on tap. Around the corner from our hotel there was a small brewery we could smell it and I saw where it was from the top of the — cathedral but it had no identifying markers nor any tours. In any case, these beers are your standard fair German style lager — light and hoppy at about 5% (a lot like Blue or any other Canadian beer) (Egils also made a dark beer that was very nice). Kate had the inspiration that beer glasses, of the sort they serve beer in the pubs (since 1988!), would make a nice souvenir gift for some friends. We had brought some back from trips to Europe we stole some from the top of Mount Titlis and bought some in Cologne — and hoped to do something similar in Iceland.

So we went searching without any luck along the main shopping street just down the hill from our hotel. This gave Kate an opportunity to see the strip which, with the conference, she had not got to stroll too much. It's pretty active with the occasional interesting punkers in the Björk style — polyester bell bottoms and platform shoes. These days there's the Kringlan mall out in the burbs and the downtown is supposed to be suffering — we thought not. In any case, there were lots of shops (and record stores selling CD's for 2000 kr which is about $40) but no stores that sold Egils glasses. I was not surprised.

At this point we saw a bar with an Egils sign outside and so decided to try to buy beer glasses from the bar. We entered the small pub where there were a few drinkers and approached the barkeep (this was during Kate's lunch break so it wasn't busy even though the sun had not set — little joke there) — "Do you have any of those Egils beer glasses?"

"But of course, do you want a large [500ml] or a small one [300ml]?" he replies thinking (of course that we want a drink but are fussy about what we drink out of rather than what we drink).

So we start to explain how we're looking for small glasses as souvenirs and he asks, "How many do you want?" — Everyone in Iceland speaks English so the conversation really didn't require any of the preamble ("Do you speak English?", "Of course, no problem.").

Kate says "Do you have six of them?" and he replies "Of course, no problem." as he starts shuffling around under the counter digging some out for us. 

Now at this point we haven't established a price (because if they're 100kr each then we'd buy quite a few but if the 500kr each, well then six is plenty). So we try to establish a price but he says "No problem, you can have them." And we start to argue that he can't do that, you're too kind, and so on. He tells us the brewery gives them to him, so what's the deal?

The short story then is we got our souvenirs gratis (and that's important as everything else was so expensive). 

Sagas from Iceland — Icelandic swimming rituals

Iceland is famous for near universal literacy and swimming — everyone swims and many swim every day. You might recall how Juri said "Smell this" after a day of eiderdown robbery at his father's farm and a shower at his local pool. He told us that he swims every day and we gather that many others to do too. This is unusual for a seafaring nation — most work under the rule that if you go down in the ocean it's better not to know how to swim. Either the ocean is very warm, or perhaps it's very cold. But in any case, they swim in Iceland.

Throughout the city of Reykjavik there are public pools for swimming with hot tubs for soaking. Perhaps a dozen or more public pools, each within a short walking distance and all are naturally heated. Actually all hot water in Reykjavik is natural hot water — it comes from deep underground and it's pumped around the city as a hot water source they way we pump cold water. No one has a water heater or a furnace since hot water is a public utility like electricity. We understand this is pretty common throughout the country and lots of places have public pools.

On our first day we struck out on our rented bicycles to swim in the pool in Reykjavik that seemed to be most highly recommended from the guide books. There was an indoor pool only a block or so from our hotel but we wanted to try an outdoor pool (in fact, we never went to our local pool). This pool we went searching for was particularly large with a great water slide at a big park with a stadium overlooking the pool. Unfortunately it was closed when we got there, and closed for the week. Damn!

But we did get to go swimming. Not too far from the University and Kate's conference there was a pretty good outdoor pool our first and Kate even got to take swims in her lunch break during the conference. It had several hot pots (38-40 degrees, 40-42 degrees and 42-44 degrees — just right for cooking shrimp, lobster and the very brave) but no water slide. Another great outdoor pool we went to after a long bicycle ride (recommended both by Juri and the girl at the snack bar at the closed pool) was an indoor/outdoor pool with a great water slide — a slide for kids and Reg and several large hot pots. It was a very modern affair with a glassed over indoor portion.

The ritual of going to pools isn't too strange — unless you don't know it. Admission to the pool is fairly modest and you can even put it on your MasterCard (they're almost a cashless society). Each change area (separate for Kate's and Reg's) starts with shoe rack where you're supposed to remove your shoes (Kate determined that right away, for Reg's it took a bit longer Anne told us later that she'd had her shoes stolen there one time). You have a locker (or perhaps, as at the Blue Lagoon, you give your gear to a locker attendant) and key on a rubber band for putting on your ankle or wrist — Kate thinks there's firmer rules about the protocol (i.e., the key goes on your ankle period); Reg thinks not. Then you have a shower before going swimming making sure to wash your hair and the naughty bits — they have posters to tell you what naughty bits you're supposed to wash thoroughly. Whilst showering on the way in or out you're supposed to leave your towel in your numbered slot (again Kate has figured this out right away (no she didn't the first time she had some mildly disapproving looks — but of course) while Reg has more trouble). But nobody yelled at us, but of course! And we got to go swimming on days you wouldn't even consider going near the water. They swim all year — I suppose under lights in the winter.

The fancy indoor outdoor/pool (with the slide) had some more interesting features —mini geysers you could play on, relaxing spots to lay with a thousand tiny scrub brushes urging you to let go, and a water fall that comes down as a very wide sheet; Blue Lagoon mud (Kate bought some for Doreta) at more than Blue Lagoon prices; and a nice view looking out over the city. But no nudes.

You're swimming outside in reasonably warm water — just right for Reg but a little too warm for Kate who wants to do lengths. And people are sun bathing in what little sun, and what little shelter from the wind, is available. Lots of folk must be regular sunbathers judging by their tans. There were a few "serious" swimmers but the kids were there to have fun and the blonde babes were there for the sun tan. Mostly it seems people go to the pools to have fun.

So we had fun and enjoyed the several swims we had. If you're ever in Iceland, you really ought to go swimming and we know of a few good pools you should try (and the bathing ritual so you can fit right in).

Sagas from Iceland — The Wind

"Will this wind be so mighty as to lay low the mountains of the earth?"

Iceland gets big winds. We were aware of this, having read in the guide books that bicycle riding (at least outside of the city) is something of a challenge because of the wind. But we were not prepared for how windy it could be. After all, any wind is a problem on a bike. However, we'd never seen a wind before where you couldn't stand up!

In our hotel room, on the 3rd floor, sand collected on our window sill when we left the windows open. I assumed that was because of some work out front with the interlocking brick but now I think it was likely sand blown in from the interior of Iceland!

We certainly weren't prepared for the wind on our bus tour to Gullfoss and Geyser when we had our first stop to view the scenery. The view of the outlanding low lands was in an open space a little up on the hill side where the road runs down to Eden (the regulation tourist stop at a green house with bananas (sic!) and more). We all tumbled out of the bus and a goodly number continued tumbling on as the wind caught them. Photos, if possible at all, were taken with the photographer at an extreme angle laying into the wind. Someone decided to have a cigarette and the pack went off bounding across the countryside swept from his hands. If he had a cigarette at all it would have burned away in a very few minutes. Reminded me of the wind you experience on a motor bike when you're barreling down the highway at 100Kph!

At Gullfoss (the Golden Falls) the wind was just as bad, only this time you had the spray from the falls as an added feature designed to chill you to the bone. A few brave souls got themselves close to the falls there was a path where you could get right up to the brink of it. Not for me! I was quite cold enough, and Kate was freezing having not dressed properly at all. Her colleague Asa lent her a scarf (one of many — she's Icelandic and she came prepared) which helped a lot. But what Kate and other likeminded friends did was lie in the grass soaking up the sun and avoiding the wind. It would have been a nice spot if hadn't been so windy!

Sagas from Iceland — Faye and the Geyser

On the bus tour to Eden and Gullfoss (Golden Falls), we also stopped at Geyser — the original Geyser after which all others are named. It and several other bubbling hot spots are there by the road for any and all to stop and view. But before going in we get the warning — "These geysers are hot, the water is boiling, so make sure you don't put your hands in the water and make sure you're not down wind when the Geysers erupt. You can and will be burned very badly." And there's several signs around various geysers, especially the very hot ones, advising you of the water temperature (in Fahrenheit and Celsius, in Icelandic and English). One is forewarned.

The Geyser used to erupt regularly but hasn't in quite a while. They used to stuff soap and other gunk down it to force it to erupt but realized after a while that's not such a good idea. I gather they stopped doing that foolishness within the last few years say within the last 10 or so. That it's not erupting now is no big deal. It usually stops for a while just before the next big volcanic episode. And as it's been quiet for quite a while the expectation is that any day soon there should be some volcanic activity to start things up again. Iceland gets volcanic eruptions fairly regularly. You may recall that last year there was one that went off under an icecap! And the icecap melted (or at least a large portion). And a great flood followed which wiped out part of the highway that rings the island — no lives lost, business as usual.

So there's lots of these boiling/bubbling geysers there with sting of the steam rising water which is indeed very warm (of course we felt it!). Some are quite big. The quiet but original geyser is about the size of a backyard pool. The water smells faintly of Sulphur, but all hot water we ran into even your everyday hot water from the tap — smells that way. Some geysers were very clear and you could see the bottom. Others were a cloudy blue color. And a few of them bubble away like a pot of boiling water (which one would be foolish indeed to put one's hand in).

But there's one that does erupt regularly. Every seven minutes or so. And this one has a rope around it — the "stay away from here" kind. And it doesn't have a pool of water. What it has is a steaming chasm it looks like a small crater. Most people are wise enough to not cross the rope but a few brave souls went over to have a closer look. Most people recognized the wind conditions and, having seen it erupt once already (we saw it several times from a distance before we got up close and personal), wisely stayed up wind. The really big gale that was blowing that day.

Faye, a colleague from Washington DC, had planted herself with her camera ready for the next big eruption. Everyone gets their cameras ready to take the next big eruption. I say to Faye, "You know you're down wind from this" and she says "Well, I've seen it go off already and I can see the water spray from when it last went off so I think I'm safe enough here". No way man! But we are about 50m or so down wind from things and a lot safer than the foolish fellow who is peering down the funnel waiting for it to erupt.

But I get ready and place myself near Faye. But a little over so I'm out of the way of the spray. And when it goes off there's these young kids (no, not with us) who are directly down wind and right at the rope. Too close, far too close. So they light off as fast as they can and I'm moving too as I feel I'm a little to close for comfort. But I get some nice pictures and only a little wet as it gushes about three or four times in a gigantic cloud of steam and hot water high into the air before settling down for the next cycle.

Faye meanwhile is down wind and lost in a cloud of steam which clears to reveal a quite wet and giggling Faye. She assured me that the water was nicely warm by the time it got that far down wind to her — she was not burned and in fact found the hot water a welcome relief from all the cold wind we had endured. So she survived, as we all did. I don't think she got any pictures of the maelstrom as it enveloped her. I hope her camera survived.

But of course even warm water cools off pretty quickly in all that wind. So although she may have had a brief respite from the cold she cooled off again pretty quickly.

Sagas from Iceland — Snow and sleet on the Blue Lagoon or "Where are the babes?" 

On our last day we arranged (through our hotel) a tour that would take us around to a few sites and drop us off at the airport (for a not so modest fee). The airport is quite a distance and the direct bus, which we had taken on arrival at 600kr, wasn't that interesting and certainly not worth repeating (besides we didn't have Flo to pay our way). So we had a planned trip where all the worry and headache was some one else's. And some sites to see.

The best part of the trip, and perhaps the only reason for us taking it, was a stop at the "Blue Lagoon". That's an interesting swimming spot in a large lagoon of very hot water and highly recommended by tour guides and our colleagues. Martin Plant told us a bit about it and led us to believe that the swimming area is quite small — turns out to be much bigger. Not so big as it appears on some postcards but more than large enough. And we had these interesting postcards of people laying around in very blue water soaking up the sun — blonde babes in bikinis. We were very interested (Reg was quite excited) about the prospects.

The lagoon is between Reykjavik and the airport. It's all a volcanic peninsula jutting out into the ocean with the city on a bay, the lagoon is inland a bit and the airport the very tip of the peninsula. The lagoon is at the foot of smallish mountain on the volcanic plain that reminds one of Arizona or other deserts -- only it's a volcanic plain with hillocks where lava has boiled up long ago. Mountains are volcanic eruptions too and some are quite a large.

Pictures show a lovely blue lagoon, with people relaxing and swimming, with steam rising off the water and what looks like a formidable industry behind with larger billows of more steam. Turns out it's not a factory (or at least not as such). The trick is the Icelanders decided some years ago after burning up all the trees and peat that it might be a good idea to find heat sources elsewhere or freeze. Given all the volcanism the obvious came to mind — let's tap this stuff as a heat source. The Blue Lagoon is a rather late development of that. They've drilled a deep well down to a hot water source and they use that. There's pipelines from the lagoon going off in several directions to nearby towns and the airport. Looks bib like a gas pipeline only it's hot water.

The hot water is ocean water that's slipped through cracks and crevices in the rock down to hot volcanic sources. So it's salty and has some small critters in it that have been cooked by the heat. Now the water they pipeline off is for heating and a hot water source out of the tap — so that's ordinary hot water not salt water.

Besides, salt water would corrode the pipes. The function of the big industrial complex is do to the heat transfer of salty water to ordinary drinking water. In the process they end up with hot salty water (after extracting some of the heat) that they don't know what to do with. What they've done is just dump the hot salty water onto the desert plain and the water has collected to form a lagoon. I suppose most of it drains off into the water table and I hardly imagine that helps, but it's a desert and nobody seems to care much.

The net result is a lovely blue lagoon, very warm and very salty. The lagoon has a muddy bottom — the layer of accumulating dead microscopic critters who were in the sea water. The mud is "famous" (at least amongst Icelanders) as a beauty treatment — you can even buy it and take it home in a tube. The water is likewise famous as a treatment for skin ailments (psoriasis et al). Both claims are debated but we'll let them stand. But in any case, one is a bit disturbed at the prospects of to having a shower and washing thoroughly to get clean when you're entering water lately used by those with very blotchy skin.

But we went swimming. On a day where no babes were laying about enjoying the sun.

Our bus tour was on a very cool and windy day. The temperature was about 2 Celsius and the windy was very mighty — earlier, I asked the tour guide:

"Is it always this windy?"

"No, somedays it's much worse."

Not only was it very windy, but there was a bit of snow in the air and the lifeguards were dressed in snowmobile suits to keep warm while they watched the brave folk dunk themselves in the healing waters. This made for an interesting swim. People didn't dawdle about waiting to get in, they got in quickly. And when you were in you searched out the warmest spots some spots were so warm you quickly swam off elsewhere. Also, while you were swimming you did your best to keep most of your body in the water no laying around sun tanning. The wind and snow were so brisk and cold that you tried to keep your face away from the wind, and even then your hair would start to freeze up. But it was definitely nice to be in the warm water and considerably less painful getting out than it was getting in.

We had fun for the hour we were there, we could have easily stayed much longer (if only to remain warm). Kate bought some souvenirs and on we went to the airport.

An important postscript when we got home to Canada and were showing some friends the postcard of swimmers and sun bathers at the Lagoon on warmer days we noticed something well worth going back for (says Reg). Among the sun worshippers was a topless babe! I don't think anyone would have dared to sunbathe nude or not on the day we were there. But I'd be interested in going back on a better day just to check things out.

These notes and photos were scanned April, 2021 during the COVID-19 pandemic. In Ontario we are currently in a "stay at home" lockdown. Kate and I have recently both had our first Pfizer vaccine, can't wait for the second.

Boston

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On our flight to Iceland we had a long stay over at the airport in Boston for our Delta connection to Reykjavík. Kate had the very good idea that we should take a quick ferry across the harbor to down town Boston and explore a bit — which we did. We had never been to Boston before and haven't been since, but it looks like an interesting historic city.

I like the idea that you could easily skip across to the city on a ferry rather than be stuck in the airport waiting for hours. Since 9/11 I suppose that's no longer possible.

This note composed, and these photos scanned, in April 2021 during the COVID pandemic. In uncertain times we cherish the past.

Washington D.C.

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Kate had a meeting in Washington D.C. We made a bit of a trip of it and drove there with our friend Cindy.

Along the way we stopped in to see Punxsutawney Phil (oddly Jimmy Stewart is from the same town), Franklin Lloyd Wright's Falling Water and Jefferson's Monticello.

In Washington Cindy and I tramped around the mall taking in sites like the Vietnam War memorials, the Lincoln and Jefferson memorials, the Holocaust Museum, some of the National Galleries, the Capitol itself and the old post office. We also visited the Washington Cathedral (which is far from the mall).

This note and the album need a lot more work ....

Ps. this note and photo album created during the COVID-19 lockdown in February of 2021.

Death Valley

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Kate and I had a winter holiday week in Death Valley -- a place where you're guaranteed it will be sunny and warm. We flew into Las Vegas, spent a bit of time there, and then drove to Death Valley and stayed at Stove Pipe Wells. We were there for a week and did a lot of exploring. There's a lot to see.

This is a placeholder. More work is required on the album and this note.

Seattle

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Kate and I were in Seattle, Washington November 5-14, 1996 for a conference of mine. Usually I'm tagging along carrying Kate's luggage but this was a work conference for me. Kate does spend some time visiting with colleagues at the University of Washington but mostly she's on holidays.

For more on the "technical stuff" about my conference and work see below. We can ignore that for a moment and move on to our daily adventures, tours and holidays.

Tuesday, Nov 5: We flew a commuter turbo-prop US Air out of London, Ontario to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania where we changed for Seattle and arrived late in the day. The Westin Seattle was a modern upscale downtown hotel (today it's part of the Marriot chain); it's oddly shaped as a stack of round floors. It's big enough to host conferences like this one. We had a nice room fairly high up with good views looking eastward towards the inland and mountains. 

Wednesday Nov 6: Not too far away, a short walk towards the water of Puget Sound and the harbor, is the Pike Place Farmers Market (pictured above) where there's lots to see — the fish mongers liked to throw around the huge fresh salmon. Coming from inland Ontario I was really impressed by all the fresh seafood — salmon, squids, crabs, of all sorts and much more. Down the street a little ways from the market was the small, but original, Starbucks Coffee shop. The move to proper coffee in the US started here! These days (2023) Starbucks is a world wide corporation; our nephew Darren works to market them to the Europeans (who already know about good coffee).

Thursday Nov 7: Our second night we went to see Gillian Welch and her partner David Rawlings at a small club. "The Backstage" was down an alley, it really was "backstage". The folks in line with us were surprised that we knew of Gillian Welch and David Rawlings and had found the club. We had picked up their first CD, Revival (1996), at Tower Records in Nashville recently as it was recommended by Emmy Lou Harris. I recall that we had the salmon dinner package at $25 each. It was a great show and well worth the visit.

Google tells me the club, which was located in the Ballard neighborhood (2208 NW Market St), shut down in July of 1997 not too long after this visit. However, there is an active Facebook Group "The Backstage in Ballard is gone but not forgotten" — I ought to post some of the concert photos from this visit and find out who the opening act was.

I did post our pictures and received some commentary:

• Miro Jugum (Admin & Top contributor): "The opening act for Gillian & David that evening was my friend Michael Shuler."
• Michael Shuler: "Cool pictures. It was fun opening for them. Gillian was writing a song in the green room. That was the only time I’ve encountered that."
• Kathy Christman (member): "I was there and it was unforgettably great! One of the best shows I’ve ever seen!"
• Katy Keenan (Top contributor): "Oh these are some great pictures! [thanks] for sharing" 

Friday Nov 8: At the Pioneer Square we explored, or were guided, on the Seattle Underground. It's an interesting story where they raised the streets years ago as a part of a sewage/water works project leaving the original ground floor for many streets in the area as an underground floor. That evening we had a posh dinner at a restaurant called Anthony's Pier 66 below the Pike Place Market on the shore of Puget Sound.

Saturday Nov 9: We took a Ballard Locks Cruise from Pier 57 (below the market, near the posh restaurant) that took us out to the harbor of Puget Sound and then up through the locks to the lakes — Union and the larger Lake Washington. We visited the University of Washington where Kate was meeting with colleagues.

Sunday Nov 10: More visits to the Pike Place Market. We visited the nearby Seattle Art Museum where there was a travelling exhibit of works by Tamara de Lempicka who I had not known but came to really like. Her Autoportrait (Tamara in a Green Bugatti) is quite famous. Her style is art deco, sort of industrial. Later we went to the iconic Seattle Space Needle which really helps to define the Seattle sky-line. Built for the 1962 World's Fair it's now an observation deck, restaurant and required tourist stop. Unfortunately the day turned rather drab and cloudy so there wasn't a lot to see from the needle.

Monday Nov 11: More tromping about the Market before a wine tour. We visited the nearby Columbia Winery (since 1962), had lunch at the Red Hook Brewery and finished off with a visit the the Chateaux St. Michelle Winery (oldest in the state and acclaimed). All are near Woodinville a little to the north and east of the city centre. We had crossed the floating bridge on Lake Washington to Redmond.

Our friend Pat had recommended we explore Washington State red wines, especially merlot. These are grown in the interior of the state in the rain shadow of the mountains. They're grown along the Columbia river, in desert country, where they irrigate and can predictably grow great wines.

We continued our drive a little ways into the mountains and spent the evening at "Casa Bianca" with our friend Bianca (Scott's mom) and her partner "Uncle Al".

Sunday Nov 12: Casa Bianca is a quiet cottage on the shores of a quiet lake not too far inland. It's a small lake and motor boats aren't allowed. We enjoyed our visit with Bianca and Al.

On our way back into the city we stopped off at the scenic Snoqualmie Falls. It's just off the I90 with a very tall twin falls a little over a half hour from the city center. It's well work a visit. This is the setting for the mythical TV town of  Twin Peaks from the 1990 series and you can go on a Twin Peaks Tour if you were a fan of that very odd show. Back in the city we saw a cajun band at a Louisiana restaurant that evening in the Pioneer Square area.

Monday Nov 13: There's some pictures of the sea shore on the Puget Sound in the early part of the day as we were on our way to the Sea-Tac International Airport between Seattle and Tacoma to the south for our scheduled return home. We got there in good time only to discover that our return flight had been cancelled! We had to stay one more day. What to do?

That afternoon we took the Bainbridge Island Ferry, we rode the "Walla Walla" (named after the town I suppose), across Puget Sound to Bainbridge Island to the west where we understand they are growing white grapes for wine. 

We visited the Bainbridge Island Winery and have a story there. There was a couple ahead of us at the tasting who were asking about ice wine. The wine steward explained to them that, although they grow white wines on the island, the weather wasn't practical to make ice wine and anyways those that did, like in Canada, did it by picking the grapes and chucking them into a freezer. When we had our turn with her we explained that, coming from Canada, we knew a little more about ice wine and what she had described just was not true. Ice wine is a VQA product and is strictly controlled (see VQA Icewine Standards). She went on to argue with us (actually the customer sometimes is right) and said she had read this fact recently in Wine Spectator and we were wrong. When we got home we found the article she was referring to and it talked about growers in California who were experimenting with that method. But the article was clear, in Canada (and Germany), that's not how icewine is made!

Tuesday Nov 14: Our last day we return home flying again through Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

Technical Stuff

The Second International IMAP conference was sponsored by the IETF and hosted by the University of Washington at the Westin Hotel in the downtown city core of Seattle and I attended as part of my work with email systems at the University of Western Ontario. My boss, Peter Marshall, had sent me to determine if IMAP (Internet Mail Application Protocol) was going anywhere and if we ought to be looking there rather than at POP (the Post Office Protocol) to provide an easy to use email client for our users. We had installed implementations of both servers on Unix systems at Western. The IMAP mail client Peter and Colleen were keen on was called Pine; but it would have been a hard sell to Windows users. I had ported Berkeley Mail from BSD/Unix to Vax/VMS and likewise that would have been a hard sell.

The conference was here for good reasons:

"The UW IMAP server was the reference server implementation of the Internet Message Access Protocol. It was developed at the University of Washington by Mark Crispin and others."

I was happy to report back that both Netscape and Microsoft had embedded a very good IMAP client in their respective web applications so it looked like IMAP was indeed the way to go. At this writing, April 2023, pretty much everyone is using IMAP mail clients to connect to servers like gmail.com, hotmail.com or etc.

— Slides scanned and notes from faded memories written during April 2023.

Italy 1995

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Kate had a special KBS Thematic meeting in Greve in Chianti (Chianti, the wine region, is in the Tuscany political region of Italy) in October of 1995. We flew into and out of Rome with time spent in that "Eternal City", Greve in Chianti, Florence (Firenze in Italian) and a day trip to Pisa for the Leaning Tower and the coast at Viareggio to dip our toes in the Mediterranean. October is a nice time to visit: it's still quite warm, there's not as many tourists, and it's harvest time in the wine regions. This was our first trip to Italy and quite a learning experience. 

Rome, the Eternal City

In Rome we took a train from the airport (Leonardo da Vinci – Fiumicino Airport) into the old city and schlepped our bags over cobble stone streets to our nearby hotel. We stayed in rather sad little hotel not too far from the Spanish Steps and the Trevi Fountain. Our room was quite tiny with a view of weather worn nearby buildings. I recall the bath tub was the tiniest I'd ever seen. The room seemed to have been severed from an existing larger suite and barely held two single beds – hardly enough room to change your mind. People have asked if we have any recommendations on where to stay in Rome; if you're staying within the old city, and you really should, accommodations are either frightfully expensive or just frightful. Nevertheless we were only there for a few nights and spent most of the time exploring the city so who really cares what your hotel room offers?

Ps. Since our visit in 1995, we see the "Elite" has become quite a posh looking place. Things change, even in the eternal city.

We fell in love with the old city. There are so many exciting surprises around every corner. On our first walk, we bumped into the Quirinale Palace (a former Vatican property which had been a papal residence) near the Trevi Fountain which we were trying to find. We explored the Spanish Steps, dropped a coin in the Trevi Fountain (to be assured we would return), and Kate fell in love with the Pantheon (the round domed church built around 156AD as a Roman Temple by Hadrian of Hadrian's wall fame). Around the corner from the Pantheon we stumbled upon the The Elephant and the Obelisk in the Piazza della Minerva, and while wending our way over to the Campo de'Fiori and Piazza Navona we bump into Trajan's Column. There's a surprise at every turn.

We of course visited the Vatican on the right bank of the Tiber. The Vatican is a separate city state within the city of Rome established under a treaty with the dictator Benito Mussolini 1929. But of course there's a long history with Italian city states, the unification of these to form the country of Italy in the late 1800's, and the role of the Papal states on the Italian peninsula. Mussolini had the trains run on time and managed to settle some space issues with the Pope.

On the way to the Vatican we crossed the Tiber at the historic and scenic St. Angelo Bridge with the St Angelo Castle at the Vatican side (built by Hadrian as a mausoleum but repurposed as a fortress for the popes). There's a nice photo of Kate on the bridge in the album.

St. Peter's Basilica (Michelangelo's architectural masterpiece) is fronted by a grand piazza designed by Bernini with the tall ancient Egyptian Obelix standing at its center. The grand columns to each side of the piazza define the space and lead one to the church itself. Kate is not that keen about visiting churches when we travel but here we are in Rome. At the entrance to St. Peter's there were some surly young men who seem to be employed as crowd control. Kate, who had purposely worn a dress (rather than shorts) to meet the dress code, was barred from entering because she was wearing a sleeveless dress with bare shoulders – she was delighted not to have to go in! Nevertheless, I entered and made a quick tour of the Basilica. We had hoped to climb the dome for the view but not without Kate. The main observation about St Peter's: it's huge with lots of gold leaf and impressive carved marble tombs. Here you'll find Michelangelo's Pietà – the mother Mary with the the body of the crucified Jesus on her lap. Having been attacked by a nut bar with a sledge hammer not too many years ago, it's now well protected ... which might also explain the surly young Italians guarding entry to the church.

At the Vatican Museums and the Sistine Chapel Kate has better luck. The Chapel itself is quite large for a "Chapel". The "Last Judgement" over the alter and ceiling paintings by Michelangelo are brilliant, bright and impressive. They were restored recently and opened to the public in 1994. There is some controversy as the soot and muck have revealed an almost comic book clarity and vibrancy to the figures. We were impressed. Although I must say that the "Last Judgement" seems like a disjointed collection of scenes overburdened with too much blue. 

The Vatican Museums themselves are, like the Basilica, huge! They go on forever and you must walk through quite a bit to get to the Chapel with few benches for getting off your feet for a moment or two. But worth it. There's a lot to see within the Museum, we didn't find the medieval pornography collection – but not for lack of looking.

Leaving the Vatican behind, our next major visit was to the Roman Colosseum and the nearby historic Roman Forum ruins. There is a connection between the two – much of the Colosseum was stripped of its stone and marble to build St Peter's! Triumphant Roman Arches (think of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris as a modern equivalent) abound in this historic part of the old city. At the Colosseum there's Constantine's Arch, down the Via Sacra into the Roman Forum there's Titus' Arch and within the Forum there's the Septimius Severus Arch. These, like Trajan's Column, were to document battles and triumphs in ancient Rome. They were also looted and repurposed by one another as history fades, and new heroes need new arches to proclaim how great they are.

In the Roman Forum Kate posed as one of the Vestal Virgins with modestly covered shoulders. This is the place where Julius Caesar was assassinated on the Ides of March. I told him "Julie don't go" (from Wayne and Shuster). Et tu Katie?

At the far end of the Roman Forum there's a couple of interesting more modern structures. The Altar of the Fatherland (Altare della Patria) is a rather grand structure from the late 1800's to celebrate the unification of Italy under it's first king. I think it's also called "the typewriter" – it sort of looks like one with the stairs forming the keyboard. The more interesting, and much older structure, is the Capitoline Museum with the grand stair case and courtyard designed by Michelangelo. Michelangelo and Bernini pop up all over Rome – in the same way that you can't visit London without bumping into Christopher Wren.

We took a cab one day for a hillside view of the city from the Janiculum where you get a very good sense of how big the Pantheon is. There are also statues in the park we found interesting. There's a statue to a Zamboni guy but I don't think he had anything to do with the "Zamboni" we use here in Canada to ice rinks. From the hillside we took another cab back down the hill to the Trastevere area on the right bank of the Tiber where we had some lunch. We crossed the river and wandered through the old Jewish quarter and bumped into the Turtle Fountain – another one of those pleasant surprises round another back lane.

There's so much to see in Rome. History is found around every corner. We enjoyed our short visit and hope to return again.

Greve in Chianti

Our next stop after Rome is the small town of Greve in Chianti. Greve is mid way between the cities of Florence (Firenze) and Siena in the heart of the Chianti Classico region, in the Tuscany political region. 

If you like Chianti you'll learn that there's the wider Chianti Region with Chianti Classico at it's heart. Greve is smack dab in the middle of the Chianti Classico region. Chianti Classico is a DOC wine with the Black Rooster (Gallo Nero) as it's symbol. And of the Chianti wines from the various regions, Chianti Classico Reserva is the best (since our visit they now have a designation Chianti Superior which is supposed to be even better than Reserva). We tried a few (gosh we were there!), and developed a fondness for the wine. You may recall having Chianti wine bought in round based Fiasco bottles with straw baskets that hippies used as candle holders. We knew a bit about the wine and weren't going without any preparation: our friends Padric and Terry had spent years schooling us on the joys of this wine region. Chianti used to be a cheap plonk; however these days, with the DOC designation and changing times, it's become a very fine age worthy wine (or at least there's a range from cafe plonk to the very best). We luckily visited the Verazzano and Fontodi wineries/vineyards and of course sampled wines at dinners, at the Enoteca and even in our room and on the balcony overlooking the roof tops of the town.

Greve is a small town in a valley with vineyards on the hillside. I was expecting intensive viticulture as we have here in the Niagara Region but it's not like that. There are lots of vineyards but not the kind of intensive agriculture we have here. But on those hillsides they've been growing Sangiovese grapes (the core grape for Chianti) for wine for many, many years. 

Above Greve, to the west, is a small scenic hill top village Montefioralle. It's a reasonable walk through vineyards to this pedestrian only historic hill top village. It's beautiful but I have a hard time imagining living there. If you visit Italy you'll be amazed by how many hill top town and villages there are. Part of this is as an historical defense strategy (after all the city states became a country only in the late 1800's). It's a beautiful spot, a pleasant walk and well worth a vist.

There are a several funny stories about our visit to Greve. They all involve dinner.

The first story is our dinner at our hotel on the town square with the Verazzano Statue (the Verazzano bridge in New York is proof the Italians discovered North America!). We had come down to the front desk shortly after 6:00pm (perhaps it was 6:30, maybe 7:00) to enquire about dinner. The staff were busy with other things and ultimately communicated that we should go away: dinner would not be served until 8:00. As North Americans were expecting the dining room to serve at our schedule not at the chef's schedule but when in Rome (or in Greve), we do as the Romans do. 

We are the first at the door when the dining room opens at 8:00 (in retrospect we've come to learn that the appropriate time for dinner is more like 9:00). We are seated at a table with crisp white linen, a ton of cutlery, a ton of wine glasses and salvers under our plates. We order some Chianti, when in Chianti you order Chianti, and they then clear the salvers and take our glasses away. A little later our glasses return but now, apparently, they have been used! WTF is this? 

We learn what they have done. They've taken away the white wine glasses as we've not ordered a white as a "starter". They've taken the red glasses to prep them for our wine. They've opened the red, poured a bit into one glass, sniffed and swirled that glass to make sure it's fine, done the same in each glass, then the decanter, and finally tasted the wine before serving. This makes sure the glass has been rinsed of any detergent, etc. residues and makes sure that the wine is, in fact, presentable before serving. It also means you're returned a glass that looks like it's been used. We've learned.

The conference had organized several dinners at various wineries. One night all of us went to the Castello di Verrazanno. Another night the group was split up into smaller groups and went off to different wineries. We had a fine dinner at the home of the Fontodi Estate in Panzano just a little south of Greve up the hill towards Sienna. We ended up at the Fontodi Winery which, it turns out, makes one of the best Chianti Classico around and a Super Tuscan "Flaccianello della Pieve" that is to die for. There were perhaps 6 of us from the conference, a driver from the town council, the Manetti parents, their son Giovanni (about 25yrs), their daughter Giovanna (about 19yrs), and their wine maker from France. 

Gionvanni and Giovanna were obviously being groomed to inherit the business and they showed us around their wine making facility with the obligatory tour of barrel rooms. Giovanna was still in school in Florence. I recall she was studying marketing, which would be a good fit for the business. They were told we were "Doctors" from this important alcohol conference. They might have been disappointed were they to learn that the only "doctor" in the group was Kate and she's not that kind of doctor. And we were mostly dressed very casually. And I'm not at the conference at all!

We enjoyed a formal dinner prepared by their cook in the Manetti home. Most of them where dressed formally with suits and ties. At the table only the only ones beyond we conference attendees that spoke English were the two younger Manetti's so there were some awkward moments but we were certainly welcomed. They were well aware of the LCBO alcohol monopoly in Ontario and, since I our visit, I have seen their wines as special Vintage releases. The dinner was very nice, lots of courses, lots of cutlery and glasses, and each course accompanied by a sampling of their wines including the Flacianello (probably the finest wine I have ever tasted). 

I recall having home made Tiramisu for dessert -- the first time we'd ever had that Italian treat. I also recall that the serving spoon kept slipping away and having to be fished out! I recall making it at home at our return from this trip. These days we can find Tiramisu in the dessert section at many grocery stores. 

The last story dinner involves pizza. Kate had a bug on this trip (so much so that we ended up seeing an Italian doctor) and was feeling tough one night. She wanted to eat in our room and had sent me out to get a pizza from a nearby pizzeria. At the pizzeria I discovered that I didn't have my phrase book with me and struggled to order a "pizza to go". I don't know why I do this but rather than resort to asking "Do you speak English?" I struggle with mangled Spanglish/Frenglish/Italian anything but English and try to order a pizza "a porté". I'm stumbling and the server looks at me blandly and asks, "Do you mean you want a pizza to go?". Ah, the joys of travel, the relief that English is so widely spoken.

We had a pleasant few days in this sunny village. Really enjoyed ourselves and, courtesy the conference, got to visit a couple of wineries and have some fabulous meals.

Florence (Firenze)

With our conference friends, we took a bus back to Florence where we rented a hotel room in the city center near the train station. Florence, like Rome, is a wonderful place to visit with surprises around every corner. It was a powerful city state at the time of Michelangelo, Galileo Galileo and the Medici.

The Piazzale Michelangelo is a hilltop park over looking the city with good views of the Arno River, the Ponte Vecchio (Old Bridge), the Palazzo Vecchio (the Old Palace is the current town hall) and the Dome & Bell Tower of the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore which dominates the sky line.

Michelangelo's "The David" stands in front of the Palazzo Vecchio in an impressive city square (Piazza della Signoria) lined with other great works and another fountain to Neptune -- this one with bronze Satyr's grinning wickedly. This "David" is actually a replica, the real one is at the Accademia Gallery. There's several unfinished Michelangelo works there. You can also see more Michelangelo (and especially works by Botticelli) at the Uffizi Gallery which is just behind the Palazzo Vecchio towards the river. If you're ever in Florence you should book tickets ahead of time to get into the Uffizi else you will have to wait in a very long line. On a later visit at the Millennium we did that. This time we skipped the long lines and visited the Palazzo Vecchio, then the Pitti Palace and the Boboli Gardens on the other side of the Arno a short distance from the historic Ponte Vecchio.

One afternoon while we were exploring the Piazza della Signoria and admiring The David a large troupe came through dressed in traditional garb of the middle ages. That was another pleasant surprise.

On the way to the Boboli Gardens and Pitti Palace through a somewhat seedy part of town we bumped into a lovely street corner fountain -- the Borgo Santo Spirito. Another surprise was the bronze boar (Il Porcellino -- the piglet). There's a replica of that at the University of Waterloo.

There are more surprises at the Boboli Gardens. The Fountain of Bacchus is an odd little surprise -- a fat nude dwarf sitting on a tortoise. The gardens are well maintained with another impressive Neptune fountain and there are good scenic views of the city. The Pitti Palace itself is a large museum with an impressive collection in gaudy rooms draped in gilt and adorned with paintings and frescoes from floor to ceiling. It's rather much to take in.

The Cathedral, back in the center of the old city, is huge, not as big as St Peter's of course but certainly a rival, and impressively clad in white and dark marble. There's a tall bell tower and impressive relief brass/bronze doors. Inside the cathedral you can ascend to the dome for views of the city. It's a bit of a climb and on the way you get some good views of the "Last Judgement" painted on the inside of the dome. The Satanic elements seem to have been made to scare the shit out of the faithful. The Black Death/Plague wasn't bad enough. 

There are lots of churches to explore. Galileo Galielo's tomb is in the Basilica of Santa Croce -- we paid a visit. It's a more modest church but likewise clad in white and dark marble. At Basilica of Santa Maria Novella there's an obelix standing on four bronze turtles. Michelangelo left two unfinished works at the Sagrestia Nuova in the Medici Chapels and the Laurentian Library for the Basilica of San Lorenzo.

On our last night in Florence we ate family style at a neighborhood Tratoria that our friends Chris Bois and Peter had discovered. We were sat a long table with others, were given a couple of bottles of cheap plonk (with beer crown caps, not corks!) and served a hearty, but simple, three course dinner. Then we were given the bum's rush out the door so that more could enjoy their evening meal.

Pisa and Viareggio

One day we took a train towards the coast to visit Pisa with its leaning tower. There's an impressive white marble clad Baptistery of San Giovanni, the Cattedrale di Pisa and the Leaning Tower of Pisa. They were busy working to stabilize the foundation of the tower so you couldn't go in or get to close. We did however go into the Baptistery -- a round church with impressive acoustics. Nearby there's the Camposanto (Cemetery) with some frightful frescoes from the Black Plague.

We had just a short visit to Pisa and then another short trip that day to the coast at Viareggio -- I must admit the name caught us. It's a seaside town with a large sandy beach. In October there were only a few souls wandering the shore. Kate got to put her feet in the Mediterranean.

Our Flights Home

We flew on a small turbo prop commuter plane from Florence to Rome where we were to connect to an Alitalia back to Toronto. Unfortunately there was an air traffic controllers strike/walkout/slowdown that made our life interesting. We didn't get in the air in Florence until about the time we were to leave Rome. At Rome I was pretty much resigned that our flight was gone and we'd have to figure out another day or so in Rome (which wouldn't have been a great hardship). Kate insisted we run through the airport to the departure gate for our Toronto flight. When we got there they were waiting for us! The plane had not left, but I believe we were the last to board.

We think Alitalia waited for us in Rome because Kate had insisted in Florence that they give us our Rome to Toronto boarding pass (which they were reluctant to do). 

Anyways, that's some of our adventures on our first trip to Italy in October of 1995.

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Finally, these notes and recollections were composed in November of 2020 during the COVID-19 pandemic. The images in the photo album are from a slide show prepared after that trip some 25 years ago. No scanner was involved, I copied the slides to my camera with macro photography.

Portugal

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Kate's annual KBS conference was in Porto, Portugal June 5-9, 1995. Several friends from Kate's work attended the conference including Cindy. We flew to Lisbon (capitol city, on the Tejo, about the middle of the country) and explored a bit before taking a train north to Porto for the conference.

We came away with fond memories of a friendly, kind people and have returned to Portugal many times since. The Algarve, on the south coast, is an especially nice winter destination for Canadians escaping the cold of winter. The weather for this June trip was especially fine -- clear skies and very warm.

In Lisbon we stayed at the Hotel Borges, an old hotel with very large rooms in the Barrio-Alta (a high area) not too far from the Santa Justa Lift (elevator) which would take you down into the newer Chiado area. The Chiado is all shops and such with a regular square street plan (because of the great earthquake in 1755). Most of the old city seems to be irregular lanes and walkways with three story and more multi-unit apartments sadly in need of repair. Porto is similar in style and structure. We explored a bit of the older Alfama area in Lisbon with its winding narrow streets that climb up the hillside to the Castelo de S. Jorge. In the Alfama we bumped into a wedding with a pretty young bride -- we captured a photo of the beaming bride and her mother on their way to the cathedral by leaning into the car window to congratulate them. We had dinner one night in the Alfama and were first introduced to "family style" dining where you order dishes to be shared.

This was one of our first trips to a non-English speaking country. We travelled with a tourist language guide book and tried to learn a bit of Portuguese (abrigado, por favor, descuple, vino tinto, cerveja). It seems similar to Spanish with an odd mushy pronunciation. Portugal was a world power but the language is only spoken here, Brazil and a few African nations. There were occasional language problems but the kindness and generosity of the people, coupled with a bit of sign language, always seemed to work. Oddly many seemed more comfortable with French -- Kate is better there than me.

On our last night in Lisbon we had dinner in a neighborhood seafood restaurant near our hotel. At the time Portugal was not on the Euro, they used the Escudo and the prices involved a lot of zeros and commas (often, for us, the commas were in the wrong place). Keeping track of what a price would convert to in dollars could sometimes be challenging. At this dinner Kate and I had each ordered a plate that converted to something modest in the $10-20 range. Cindy, who was travelling with us, ordered a plate that she thought was in a similar range. The waiter, who didn't speak much English, seemed a little concerned by her order and tried to make it clear that there was an error of some sort. But we were sure it was fine, she was going to try whatever it was (we too thought it was in the same price range). When he started bringing each of us extra plates, little wooden hammers and crackers we recalculated and discovered that she had ordered a sea food feast of some sort to be delivered family style that cost over $100! Nevertheless we tucked in, enjoyed the meal together and split the bill.

Our newer hotel in Porto, booked through the conference, was near the Rotunda da Boavista (Praça de Mouzinho de Albuquerque), the Mercado Bom Sucesso and the Agramote Cemetery. It's in the old city but some distance to the west of the city center and the Luis I Bridge (pictured above) which crosses over the Duoro River.  Porto proper is on the north side of the river with Vila Nova de Gaia and the famous "Port Houses" on the south bank. The boat, in the picture above, is one of the many old Rabelo Boats that were used at one time as cargo boats carrying barrels of port wine from up the river to Gaia for aging in port houses like Grahams, Sandeman and Taylor-Fladgate. The British developed a taste for port wine (as did we after this trip) and started many, if not all, of the port houses which make Porto and Gaia famous. We had a conference dinner at Taylor-Fladgate on the Thursday night of the conference. On the Wednesday afternoon we did a bus tour up the Douro to visit wineries and port houses. The vineyards are built in terraces along the steep river banks.

Portugal has all sorts of interesting wines beyond Port (and even with Port there are all sorts of versions including a white port wine we had never seen before). Port is actually a fortified wine -- brandy is added to stop the fermentation before all the sugar is consumed to make a sweet high alcohol drink. In contrast, to the north they make a Vino Verde (green wine) that's usually white, often with a bit of sparkle and always low alcohol. When out at a restaurant with the gang one night we tried some Vino Tinto Verde (green red wine). They're both called "green wine" because the grapes are harvested very early and not fully ripe -- they're green. That accounts for the low alcohol. Wines from the Douro and the many other regions are well worth exploring. Our friend Pat, Cindy's husband, had educated us a bit about wines to look for. We were to find "Barca Velha" (velha means old) and even bumped into a bottle on display at a wine shop but well out of our price range. We've since learned to love wines from the Alentejo which are often fresher, fruit forward versions. 

For several days I explored the nooks and crannies of the old city. It's a good hike from our hotel to the old city which, like Lisbon, is hilly with narrow streets/lanes and steep walkways down to the river. One day I hiked in, crossed the river and explored the south shore to the next bridge down river (the modern Ponte Arrabida). Along the river in Porto there's a busy market with lots of fresh seafood. On the south bank I met some folks who were busy digging clams (I assume) at low tide. I came back after a very long walk red and roasted from too much sun.

One day the three of us (Kate, Cindy and I) took a trip north of the city to see the farmers' market at Vila de Conde. It's a smaller port city on a smaller river: the Ave. We took a inter city bus ride out. At the Porto bus station we were struggling with our limited command of the language. When it was clear that we didn't understand and would probably not figure things out on our own the kind helpful clerk came out from behind his cage and walked us out with a helpful hold on my arm to the right bus, got us on board and made sure the bus driver knew where these idiots were going and to make sure we were discharged at the right place. The ride, barreling down narrow country roads, cost us about $4 each. On the way back we decided to take a commuter train from the small country train station. Again we were having trouble with the language and how much it was going to cost. I asked the clerk to write it down ("escriva por favor" is one of the few expressions I learned). With a dollar conversion it looked like it was going to cost us about $21. I guess that means for each of us (which seemed excessive but hey, what do we know). So I'm trying to pay $21 each and he says, no, no! So then I figure he means $2.10 each and try to pay and he again says, no, no! Finally I hold out some cash and coins in my hand and he picks out what converts to $2.10 for the three of us! (Footnote: Kate recalls the prices differently in this story but the overall effect is the same). This is a good example of the kindness and honesty of the people. He could have easily pocketed what I had offered and kept a healthy bit for himself. But no, he would only take what it cost. No more, no less.

The farmers' market at Vila de Conde was very interesting. It was as if the entire Eaton's store had relocated for an afternoon with all their dry goods, clothing, bras and panties, pots and pans and much, much more. There were lots of flower vendors, fresh vegetables, fish and live goods -- chickens and ducks. Some to be taken home and fattened up (the ducklings), some to be killed and plucked right there -- the chickens.

Vila de Conde was an opportunity to get our feet wet in the Atlantic. There's a good wide sandy beach to explore, kids running about, sun bathing and fishing. Nearby we had dinner at a seaside restaurant where we had a nice fish dinner served family style. Again, language was an issue (there wasn't an English menu, we don't recognize the familiar names of our fish in Portuguese, and the waiter spoke no English). Fish are fresh here, you're at the sea side. The right way to select a fish would have been to walk over to the cooler display and pick one. But we figured it out.

There's another nice story about the kindness of the Portuguese. Our waiter was very kind, patient and helpful even though we didn't speak his language. Our friend Pat had suggested we find some aged wines while in Portugal. We had never tried an aged red (totally the wrong choice to go with fresh fish) but had selected one from a display table. When it was poured it looked very brick like and a bit goopy. The waiter insisted that it be taken away (we had not complained, he insisted) and he returned with another bottle that was very nice. Often things work the other way around. You tell the waiter the wine is bad and he argues with you. This was a case where he told us the wine was bad! Thankfully.

There's also a picture of our waiter out on the street helping someone with their motorbike! Another example of how kind and friendly people are in Portugal.

Finally, I write these notes during the COVID-19 crisis of 2020 with fond memories. We really enjoyed the country, the old cities, the food and wine but especially the kindness of the people. We heard from our colleagues that the Algarve to the south is a tourist destination we should explore and in the years to following the conference we did.

Ps. the picture album is made of scanned 35mm slides from the trip (macro photography). These need more work to organize and label them.