Making new friends in Slovakia

Well, there's one thing that I must admit and that is that each day seems to present itself with unique and memorable events. This morning we left a Penzion in a quiet, cozy town just south of Banska Bystrica. Tonight we sleep in a grandiose room in Old Town Kosice, with our windows overlooking some sort of excavation and the trolley lines passing right next to our hotel. It reminds me of sleeping at grandma's when I was little.

Marty said this was all quite appropriate, seeing that we are in Kosice to seek out the Hanchak villages of origin, so it falls into place that we would be staying in a hotel that reminded me of the home that my grandmother lived in. I thought that was pretty clever of him. We'll see if he thinks the same in the morning.

This morning we headed out with Castles on my mind. There were a couple that I had hoped to see along the way, one only a short distance from the Penzion where we had stayed.
Our Garmin Girl directed us up this tiny, windy road. We hesitated about continuing up, but since there was no way to turn around, we kept going to the top, which did take us to a small parking lot just outside the doors of the castle. There was a man up there, taking photos, and I asked him if he spoke Slovak. (We were curious as to whether or not we'd be able to get back down of if there was an entrance that we had missed.) He laughed at me when I said that I did not speak Slovak, in Slovak. I apparently spoke that so well that he questioned my real ability. Another man came along, not speaking English either, and he pulled out his cell phone and began to call someone who apparently spoke English, but was not at home to take his call.

In the meantime, I introduced myself in Slovak and they introduced themselves as Miro and Lubo. I pulled out my Slovak Dictionary and gave it to Miro who immediately motioned that he couldn't read the words without glasses. Lubo went running to his truck, and the next thing I knew he was scrambling over to Miro with a pair of glasses that he popped on his nose. That made me laugh out loud.

After some botched conversation on my part, and some pencil drawings, we established that there was just one way in and one way out. We decided to stay and see if the castle would open at 10:00 as the tour book had listed.

In the meantime, Lubo jumped into his little truck, and pulled out a wedge of soft cheese that he had stuck a knife into, and offered us both some "syr". I knew that meant cheese. He mentioned that it came from sheep, and he was excited to share it with Marty and me. We both declined, with me telling him that we had just finished ranajky and were too full. He seemed OK with that.

Marty was walking along, taking photos, and I was waiting for the doors to open, in hopes of running to the "toalety dami". Nothing seemed to be happening regarding the former, so I was attempting to be polite to these men while clenching my teeth, wondering if I'd be able to hold out for the doors to open.

The next think I knew, Lubo pulls out a Slovak bagpipe and shows me how it works and begins to play it. Miro had a huge camera and was filming Lubo while he played, and then I watched Miro interviewing Lubo whom I heard welcoming people to a festival. Apparently there was to be a huge Bagpipe festival this weekend at this castle and these fellows were hoping that we would stay for the festivities. We explained that we needed to head onto Kosice, and they seemed a bit disappointed.

In the meantime, another car showed up, and this time, to our good fortune, a man named Martin arrived, who was a violinist scheduled to play with the bagpipes for the festival. He spoke very good English and he and Marty had a grand time talking of Slovakia and music.

We soon established that the castle was not opening until 14:00 and that I could forget the opportunity of using the bathroom. We bed farewell to these men, but not before they gave us their e-mail addresses. Once they were gone, I decided that nature just could not wait, and I managed to find a place near the castle, but was certain to avoid anything that looked like poison ivy after Stacey's recent scare.

Once again, we were holding our breath traveling down this windy path, and we did have to back up in one instance when a yellow truck coming up seemed to think he should have the right of way. But, soon we were on our way again, traveling through the Slovakia countryside.

We certainly traveled over hill and dale and came, once again, to another castle on our list. We opted not to actually tour the castle, as it was required to stay with a Slovak speaking tour guide upon entering, and we decided that we had made the correct decision when we passed a bus load of school students hiking up the hill for a tour.

We managed to make it to Kosice just around the time of rush hour traffic, and after circling the same roads a couple of times, we finally ended up at our hotel and we were happy to park the car!

We met Sylvia, the local girl who has offered to show us around the towns of our ancestors, but we did not have time to go out today. So that will be tomorrow's adventure. In the meantime, we went to an excellent restaurant where I had home made pirohy and a balkan salad with a wonderful local Slovak wine. The waiter gave us both a shot of Amaretto "on the house" as we finished our meal. We wondered if we'd be able to manage the walk home, we were so full.

On the way back to our hotel, we passed the singing fountain, which really is such a lovely, romantic idea, spurting water up and down along to the music that is being played. So, the day began with a musical adventure and ended with a musical delight.

Forever Young

Curious about today's blog title? The crazy day came to an end with Marty and me, sitting alone in the Castle Bocian dining room, finishing a wonderful dinner, when we both looked at each other and exclaimed “Napolean Dynamite!” There's just something wrong with being in the middle of Slovakia among Penzion proprietors who don't speak one word of English, and hearing the rap version of Forever Young playing in the background. We both cracked up laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.

It certainly was another exciting day, this time with the added adventure of managing to rent a car in Bratislava and drive it out of the city to our next destination. The smartest thing we did was to ask about renting a GPS unit, and we both decided that it was well worth the 5 euro extra per day just for the sense of security. With our American speaking Garmin and my Slovakia road atlas (another smart buy on my part), we managed to make our way through unexpected detours and were lucky enough to find roadside toilets when necessary, thanks to the atlas. (I don't think Garmin is much help in that category).

Our first stop was Bojnice castle. We took way too many photos, as you will soon notice, but it was breathtakingly beautiful and certainly hard to resist photographing. One must tour the castle with a guide directing the group. We were handed an English brochure describing the rooms of the castle, and asked to wait in the courtyard for the next guide. Before we knew it, thirty youngsters, about 4^th grade age, were heading through the gates and we were expected to tag along with them under the direction of the Slovak-only speaking guide. Let me just say that it was certainly an interesting experience, and I am certain that the employees of the castle weren't too happy that Marty and I were lagging at the end, attempting to see as much as possible on our own. The tour was pretty extensive and I'm certain that had it been in English, we would have enjoyed it even more.

We decided to forego any sustenance and to head out to our next destination as we weren't certain what surprises might await us. We rolled into the town where our Penzion is located just about 5:30 p.m. We are staying at a restored castle, albeit very small for a castle, but historic nonetheless, in a very small town just south of Banska Bystrica. We showed up and a man in an apron came running out in the back yard where I said hello in Slovak, introduced myself, stated “reservacia” and handed him my copy of the e-mail confirmation for my room. He finally nodded his head and smiled, and shuffled us over to a very lovely woman who spoke no more English than this man. She gave us our room key, and showed us our room, which is really quite nice. Marty smelled the food cooking and wanted to eat dinner pronto, but I convinced him to venture out to see the town of Banska Bystrica since it was on my list of important towns not to miss. It only took about 10 minutes to get there, and soon we were strolling through this lovely, old town which had been famous for mining gold, silver and copper. Since we arrived after most of the building were closed, we headed back to our Penzion to get some dinner, as we had nothing but a banana since our morning croissant and coffee.

Once back, I asked the proprietor, in Slovak, what a particular word on the menu was. He watched me intently as I struggled to get the correct pronunciation so that he would understand me, and he thought long and hard, when suddenly he blurted out, “Cheek en!”. (Chicken). We both laughed at that. The word he had in the menu is not the word that I had in my dictionary. So, Marty and I both had some form of Chicken. Mine was stuffed with olives and some sort of cheese and lightly fried, while Marty's was “au natural” stuffed with broccoli and cheese. We switched veges as mine came with green peppers on lettuce and some zucchini and corn, and his came with broccoli and carrots. (doesn't that figure?) We had some sort of potato buttercake which was out of this world, to go along with it. And we both decided to go ahead and have some strudel for dessert. It was filled with some sort of nut mixture, warm, and the perfect finish to the day. And, of course, as we delighted in the taste, listening to the background music, we both had this overwhelming sensation of feeling, “Forever Young”!

Castles & Cousins

Today our adventures took us to Devin castle which stands on the point where the Morava and Danube Rivers meet. The castle itself is extremely old, positioned to protect the town of Devin from invasion in years past. Across the river is Austria.

The lands around the castle are a nature's paradise, covered with various flowers, trees and plants. The castle itself is a "ruins", but much effort has been put into protecting what is left for future generations to enjoy.

Marty and I find such historical sights to be of great interest merely because one doesn't find much in the United States that is older than 200 years. This castle dates back to Roman times and is considered to be one of the most important monuments of Slovak history.

Despite the cold and extremely windy weather, we enjoyed traipsing through the grounds of the castle with Helga once again as our guide. We pretty much had the place to ourselves until we were leaving and a large group of school students arrived. Good timing on our part.

Helga explained to me that her mother, like most typical Slovaks, don't understand why we would be interested in seeing a castle in ruins. They are not proud of such attractions and wonder why we would want to see something that is clearly falling apart. I suppose they think that we are crazy, but I explained that we enjoy history and seeing such things is truly exciting for us.

When we exited the castle, we were delighted to find Lenka and Dominika sitting in their car, waiting for us in the parking lot. We had wanted to eat at the Castle Restaurant, but for some reason, it was closed today. So, Lenka drove us into the town of Devin, where we enjoyed real Slovak food. I had creamy garlic soup which came in a bread bowl, and a grilled cheese, similar to brie with what the menu called "cowberry" sauce. (it tasted and looked suspiciously like cranberry sauce), while Marty had the Devin special which consisted of pork, mushrooms and various items wrapped in a large potato pancake. We both were licking our chops when we left the restaurant.

Lenka then drove us to the garden house of her grandmother, Helga's mother, Olga Mrenova. Olga was so excited to see us, and being the typical grandma type, she started pulling out food for us to eat. Although I was filled beyond imagination, I somehow managed to finish off a piece of cake that was fabulous. Chocolate with three layers of coffee cream sandwiched in between. Olga chuckled at my poor Slovak skills, but I couldn't help but smile myself to see this woman so thrilled to have us as visitors.

We said good-bye to Helga this evening, and tomorrow begins our adventures on the road. I have been attempting to use some Slovak, although I do realize I am really lacking in that skill. I asked one woman what something cost today and she laughed at me. So, I figure that I must work on that one. Marty's been attempting to learn some words, but he always has had an issue rolling his "r's" so he's a far cry from sounding Slovak. But after a week, he may have managed to learn a few words.

We pick up the rental in the morning, and hopefully we will arrive at our next destination safe and sound. Guess you'll just have to wait to see what happens.

The Streets of Bratislava

You may see photos of us enjoying delectable delights, but rest assured that we walked enough to be able to enjoy such delicacies. Marty and I met Helga at 10:00 a.m. at the American Embassy in Old Town Bratislava where we began our fun for the day, heading for the little red train that runs a tour through Bratislava.

Luckily we had our own tour guide, because the woman on the train was extremely difficult to understand and her low, monotone voice combined with the roudy German group in our car, made it virtually impossible to grasp what she was saying.

We had a blast with Helga showing us around, and I'm fairly certain that if there was anything of interest historically for us to see, we saw it today.
We also enjoyed cakes and coffee at a traditional Coffee house as well as a delicious Slovak Meal at the Restaurant that is near Bratislava Castle. Despite the unusually cold weather and the slight mist, we certainly had a wonderful day! Couldn't ask for anything better.

Tomorrow we head off to Devon Castle yet again, by "Helga Tours" as we were referring to her today. She has been so excited to have us to show around, and the sentiment is certainly reciprocated.

Farewells and Hellos

Today began with a 6:00 a.m. pick up from Ernest who drove us to the Luxembourg airport for our flight to Vienna via Paris. Although we had only really met Ernest on Friday, it was as if we had known him for a very long time, and as we bid farewell, he stood there, waving, with his eyes brimming with tears. It had been such a wonderful weekend for all of us, and I'm certain that Ernest really felt needed and important this weekend, something that he doesn't often get the opportunity to feel having been widowed at a very young age. Marty and I both were quite touched by his reaction to our leaving, and we plan to keep in contact with him in the future. He was really one entertaining fellow.

We were treated, once again, to a delightful croissant on our flight from Luxembourg to Paris, and I'll admit that was the highlight of the trip. The boarding in the Paris airport was something I had never seen before, every man for himself trying to rush through the gate into the plane. I don't think they understand the meaning of the word "queue" in the Paris airport, although I thought that word was French!

We arrived in Vienna a bit late, and our luggage did not arrive at all. After filling out the appropriate forms, we nearly missed the taxi driver that was hired to pick us up, but luck was with us as we heard our name being announced, and met Peter who shuttled us into Old Town Bratislava where we met my cousin Helga.

Helga was just thrilled to pieces to have us visit, and she walked us to our hotel, which is actually a type of apartment in Old town Bratislava. This place is wonderful. We have two rooms and a bath, quiet and no smell of smoke anywhere, quite unlike our hotel in Echternach. We survived that experience by keeping the windows open. That hotel had real old town charm, and delightful owners, but because the room was above a pub, the smoke traveled right up through the room. This place is pristine and very quiet. No breakfast included, but there is a kitchenette and coffee machine. We'll be just fine. The proprietor could not be any nicer.

Despite the rain and cold, Helga walked us through town, and we decided to have some lunch at a nearby restaurant. The food was marvelous, and by the time we finished eating, the airport service was calling us to tell us that they would meet us at the US embassy with our luggage. Our hotel is in a pedestrian only area, so they did not want to have to walk our luggage to the hotel. It all worked out for the best, as we were finished eating. We received our suitcases, although mine is missing a handle and has metal pieces sticking out where the handle should be, and we brought everything up to the room, then headed over to Helga's for some time spent in her flat.

Tomorrow more cold and rain is predicted, but we plan to make the most of it and tour the city with Helga leading the way. She is so excited to have us here visiting and we are really enjoying her company. She, too, is very entertaining.
So, until tomorrow....

Holy Cow!

Here you see the cows in the field opposite Holy Cross church who seem to be quite interested while Marty was photographing the church. 

 Makes one think that things must be pretty slow up on the hill where these gals graze. 

You can see the picture of the church as well as the statue in front of St. Willibrord on my Flickr site.

 I'd like to share an interesting experience today involving, of all things, the bathroom in the restaurant where we ate a wonderful afternoon meal. I was amazed at the feature on the toilet when I flushed. Suddenly, part of the back of the toilet moved forward, and I had expected it to squirt a disinfectant into the bowl. Much to my surprise, the toilet seat suddenly became contorted, as if it were rubber, and it began to move around, forming an oval and moving under this extra part that had swung forward. 

Before I knew it, the seat had rotated around 360 degrees, and the arm that had extended moved back into position. I actually thought about flushing it a second time and filming it with my camera, but I thought that might be a little over the edge. So, those of you who might have enjoyed such a film will just have to use your imagination. Unless I stumble upon another, where I just may be tempted.

Last Day in Luxembourg

The morning began with the peal of the church bells echoing through the town, beckoning us for an early walk around town prior to meeting with Ernest for yet another adventure.

We attended mass last evening so that we could get an early start to Diekirch Military Museum. There we were met by Roland Gaul, the curator of the military museum, whom I had corresponded with regarding my search on several occasions. He directed us on a private tour and we were surprised to receive a copy of the book that he has written regarding the area and the battle of the bulge. I had read his book several years ago, and we will certainly treasure his signed copy.

It amazes me that these people of Luxembourg can be so generous with their time, truly interested in this search for Marty's uncle, when I have to battle at the American end to get anyone to take me seriously. This has certainly been such an insightful trip and I am thrilled that we decided to add this extra onto our plans. It has definitely been worth every minute.

After a wonderful lunch at "The Grille" in Diekirch, Ernest drove us back to the site of the crossing, where we found Mike Boehler and a young friend enthusiastically sweeping the ground with metal detectors. We had been told that this area had been searched in the past and that there would be nothing there of value. In short time, after reviewing the map I had brought and discussing the movements of Company F, Mike found 3 "live" American hand grenades. In the time that we were there, he and his friend uncovered an American razor blade, a shovel for digging foxholes, and several other items that were American made.
Mike is an expert at searching for military items in this area, and those of you who might be concerned that the grenades might have exploded can rest assured that he takes the utmost caution when he is working. He has assured me that he and his friend will be going out in the future to spend some more time searching.

I told him how grateful we were, and that I was truly not expecting him to find any signs of Marty's uncle, but that it brought great solace to know that someone had actually taken the time to actually look.

After some time in the field, we all relaxed at a local restaurant and had an enjoyable evening chatting. It is funny how people of such different natures can all have a similar bond and really have an enjoyable time, isn't it?

Luxembourg American Cemetery Chapel Ceiling

In proud and grateful memory of those men of the Armed Services of the United States of America

Who in this region and in the skies above endured all and gave all that justice among nations might prevail

And that mankind might enjoy freedom and inherit peace.

Hallowed Ground

We began our morning with an insightful recounting of the Sauer River Crossing by Emil Hanson, a resident eye-witness to the crossing. This man was more than willing to answer any questions that we had and he actually offered some extremely valuable information pertaining to the area where Marty's uncle would have last been seen. Marty videotaped most of the interview and we hope to present it to JPAC along with a lot of other information that we have accumulated. The stop here was well worth the trip, and we have been scolded on several occasions by the locals who insist that Americans don't understand that one needs more than 3 days to accomplish anything here. We just smile and agree and insist that we cannot extend our trip here, as lovely as this town is.


Ernest then drove us to the Luxembourg American Cemetery where the bodies of over 5,000 American soldiers from World War II are buried. I had e-mailed the curator a few weeks ago, wanting to be certain that the cemetery would be open, and the man was actually awaiting our arrival, and he gave Marty a huge packet of information regarding the cemetery. It was such a kind gesture on his part, and one that Marty was truly appreciative of.

The weather had been gray and overcast, but as we walked through the cemetery gate, the sun suddenly popped out, illuminating the crosses that seemed to stretch out forever. The chapel was beautiful and the saying around the chapel ceiling truly overwhelmed me.

We were able to easily spot the inscription of Marty's uncle's name on the tablets of the missing soldiers. There are two tablets, one standing on either side of the chapel. The experience of gazing upon so many graves, knowing that these were young men who died for our freedom, was beyond description. We were both so grateful to Ernest for taking us there.

Across the road from Luxembourg American Cemetery is Sandweiler, a German cemetery set up for the same purpose as the American Cemetery. But the set up is far different, and actually quite eerie. One must walk down a gravel lane which is located in a forest, and walk through a wall that has the look of a German Bunker. Once through, you see ahead of you, at a distance, a large cross on a monument. All of the grave markers are dark, rather than the brilliant white in the American cemetery. There are four German soldier names engraved per marker, rather than single names.

This cemetery contains the remains of over 12,000 German soldiers who died in the Battle of the Bulge time period. What I had such a difficult time comprehending was a flowered area, not much bigger than my garden at home, that contained the remains of over 4,000 soldiers, who are listed by name on panels surrounding the large cross. In addition, there are 810 men buried in that group of whom they could not identify. When you read the inscriptions, you realize all too soon that these were young men, 20-25 years of age, all lost in the prime of their life. It's difficult to comprehend such a huge loss of life, but one cannot ignore the enormity of this cemetery when one looks out among so many graves.

Be certain to check out the newest Flickr photos which have views of the cemetery as well our other exciting adventures today.

Snoring overload

If I didn't know any better, I'd say that someone was having a snoring contest with Marty next door. At first, I thought what I was hearing was an echo...from Marty... who must have been exhausted last night from the sounds that kept me awake. But, it didn't take me too long to realize that someone on the other side of the wall was attempting to outdo Marty. Too bad I didn't bring along earplugs! Let's hope tonight goes better on that count.

The weather is still unseasonably cool and overcast, but no pouring rain to dampen our spirits!
We head out to Hamm cemetery this morning, to see the memorial upon which Marty's uncle's name is engraved, and the 5,000 + American graves of the soldiers who lost their lives on this continent fighting for our freedom.

Ernest has a full day planned for us. I'm hoping Marty recovers from his jet lag. Last week he was in Taiwan, this week in Europe, and his body clock is in limbo, I think!

Marty in Echternach

Greetings from Luxembourg

Let me begin by saying that the smartest thing that I have ever done was to carry chewable Immodium in my purse. This wonder drug solves more than what you think its intended purpose would be. It calms down stomach spasms which could otherwise result in some real issues. 

Lesson learned from last night's plane adventure was that when both entrees contain peppers of some sort, automatically presume that anything the flight attendant offers you has some sort of pepper in it, despite their insisting otherwise. I won't elaborate, but when I suffered some real breathing distress and just managed to make it to the bathroom prior to losing my dinner, I was happy to have the chewables in my purse to prevent future disaster, and I am lucky enough to be here to write this blog! 

Our flight out of Philly left late, resulting in a delayed arrival in Paris. Marty and I literally ran from one terminal to the next, passing through security/passport check on the way out of one, and through security, again, on the way into the other. We made it to our connecting flight after running a solid half hour through the airport from one terminal to the next. Good thing I was recovered and we have working legs!

Once on Luxair to Luxembourg, a very small plane, we thought we were in heaven when the steward presented us with the most magnificent croissant we have ever encountered. Our mouths watered while enjoying it and our flight was over before we knew it. Ernest was standing at the gate, as promised, quite surprised to see us as he had checked the flight schedule, saw what time we had landed, and was quite certain that we had missed the connecting flight. He underestimated our stamina, and he commented on how he was amazed that we managed to run from one end of Charles de Gaulle to the other to make the flight. 

We had an extremely busy day, hiking up the site of the battlefield where Marty's uncle was last seen, then going back again, after Ernest called a friend who was also interested, then hiking back again, for some other reason. I'm not certain that my legs will work tomorrow. And, just think about this..... we did all of this running on about 3-4 hours of sleep! I'm going to post some photos on Flickr. Just scroll down to the bottom of the page to view them. In the meantime, I hear Marty snoring.....

May 13: Official takeoff.

Welcome bloggers! We're all packed and waiting for Ed, the limo driver to shuttle us to the airport. We depart around 6:30 p.m. from the Philadelphia airport. Our flight takes us to Charles de Gaulle airport in France where we then transfer to a flight for Luxembourg.

Ernest Kirpach will be anxiously awaiting us at the airport to be our personal driver for the weekend. He is extremely excited to meet us and I can tell from the e-mails that we've exchanged this week that Marty and I are definitely in for a fun adventure!

Why Luxembourg, you ask? Most of you are familiar with my research these past ten years, involving the MIA status of Marty's uncle during World War II. Ernest is the local historian for the 5th Infantry Division, and he has been invaluable in providing me with co-ordinates and aerial views of the crossing. We have been working together via internet for over 5 years now, and we are thrilled to be able to actually meet. Ernest speaks English like a pro, which is good, since I don't speak one word of the local language. Did you know that Luxembourg has its own language?

For those who are interested, and who haven't viewed this before, here is a link to the website that I have put together in the hopes that JPAC would consider a field investigation: http://home.comcast.net/~geisler27bam/The_Search_for_Private_Frederick_W._Goempel/Welcome.html

Perhaps we'll do our own field investigation. I'll keep you posted.

Learning the Language

Many of you are aware that I have been attempting to learn some Slovak. I recently victimized a poor little 8 year old girl one day at a family party because she understood me when her Slovak grandmother did not! I took complete advantage of her, presenting her with many Slovak words and phrases while she looked at me with fear in her eyes. She acted as though she was under the inquisition since I continued to harass her when she obviously understood what I was saying. I was just very excited that someone actually understood me!

This young girl takes Slovak dance instruction from a recent immigrant, so she has learned some of the language as well as dancing. Not to worry, though, because I'm sticking just to the language. No dancing for me. Plus, I can pretty much guarantee that Marty wouldn't be able to catch on to any Slovak dance moves which was obvious at his botched attempt to polka at Jim and Heather's wedding despite our spending about 4 hours practicing just 2 nights before. Perhaps it was the excitement of the day that caused his feet to do their own thing, who knows? But I certainly don't plan on making any dance moves when I'm in Slovakia. I may do some gallivanting, but I'm steering clear of dancing.

Which brings me back to the subject at hand. In my recent studies, I was confused by the word, fl'asa, which my Slovak program uses in two different contexts. Fl'asa vody - Glass of water. Fl'asa piva - Glass of beer. Fl'asa vina - Bottle of wine. I questioned why the same word would change and not be consistently the same. Given two out of three, I would have presumed that fl'asa meant glass.

Wrong! Apparently pohar is glass and Fl'asa is bottle, which really could get me into some trouble since we all know my alcohol limit is slightly less than one glass. And, with me ordering Marty a bottle of beer (which I understand is pretty large) and me a bottle of wine....let's just say that things could get a little crazy. And, if there was polka music playing, then who knows where that would lead ?

So, at this point, I can't help but wonder if there are other important words that I have learned incorrectly.

Perhaps I should just stick to voda and forget the vino!

Getting a handle on things

Ok, so I think that I'm pretty much up to speed regarding how this blog works, although I still don't know the difference between a member and a follower.

If you decide to sign in as a guest, then your reading privileges will expire in two weeks and chances are that I won't think to re-invite you, so if you want to follow the trip, you'll have to set up an account.

We leave on the Feast of the Ascension, and while we expect to "ascend" through the sky towards the heavens, we are hoping to actually land in Europe for our trip.

Here's hoping that Eyjafjallajokull's big sister, Katla, decides to refrain from sibling rivalry this time around, or we might just think we've headed the wrong direction!

I'll keep you posted on the itinerary as the days get closer.

Failing Blogging 101?

I consider myself to be fairly computer literate, so I have to wonder why I am having difficulty understanding the working mechanism behind this blog? Anyone know of any "Blogging for dummies" sites to get me up to speed?
So far I have six "readers".
One of these six is a "member".
Of the five others, two are "followers". Now, what the heck does that mean? Does that mean that these two people have subscribed to RSS feeds? One follower has a face (thanks Rebecca, you look great!) The other does not, but he's related to me so I know what he looks like anyway.

So, what's the difference between a follower and a member? And, where does that leave the other three?
So, if you haven't subscribed to the RSS feed, how do you know I've posted a blog entry? (I suppose I'll know the answer to this one by the lack of responses, right?)
I decided to eliminate the word verification for posting comments, because if I am controlling who can actually see this blog, I shouldn't have to worry about any spam posts, right?
Is there someway for me to link this blog to my google homepage?
As far as getting those ducks in a row.....right now I feel like they are whirling in a vortex!

Getting my ducks in a row

Over the weekend, my younger brother was wondering if I was going to be posting updates of my future trip to Europe with Marty. I gave some serious thought to the best way to achieve that and I thought that I'd give "blogging" a try. Viewing will be by invitation only since I was concerned that my blog name might attract some wierdos.

Since blogging in itself is a new adventure for me, I will be posting prior to our leaving, to get acquainted with the process.
Hope to see lots of you along for the fun.