Asides

July 29: And for those of you who like to watch, I have the following sample of things I’ve seen in the first weeks….

Col de la Schlucht: Near Colmar in Alsace, this is one of the passes used during the Tour de France a few years back. After the flat lands around the Somme, the peaks and forests were a real treat.

Black Forest: This area is the German equivalent to Alsace with pine forests and wine regions at the lower levels. It’s very well known among car and motorcycle fanatics as a place to visit for the twisty roads. And the wine, I suppose ….

Rothenburg ob den Tauber: One of the villages along the so-called Romantic Road, it’s very pretty but also hugely popular so jammed with tourists. Think Niagara-on-the-Lake to the power of ten.

Meersburg: On the east shore of Lake Konstanz, which purists would call Bodensee, Meersburg is home to the regional wine school and about a million tourists. The opposite side of the lake is Switzerland and Austria lies to the south.

And finally, from earlier today, this view from the Deutsche Alpenstrasse which runs along the north edge of the Alps, right along the border with Austria. Unfortunately, the weather has turned rainy…

June 18: Much of the enjoyment we take from where we live depends on our neighbours. I had the great privilege of living in a house for more than 25 years and was blessed by having (mostly) wonderful neighbours. I’ll admit that I was a bit concerned about moving into an environment where neighbours were certainly closer, and potentially much more disruptive. We all know stories about “the neighbour from hell” that caused people to move. And, in fact, there was a time in my life when I may have been that neighbour. I shared a cottage with my cousin. We were young and the cottage was, more often than not, a bit of a weekend party place. Noise travels across the water and although nobody ever complained, we probably intruded on someone’s tranquil weekend.

This post started as a bit of a rant about a neighbour across the street who seems to have an addiction to power tools. The weapon of choice seems to be a leaf blower deployed against snow in the winter, maple keys in the spring, and now the occasional leaf that trespasses on his lawn. Then there’s the electric mower which always seems to swing into action just as I sit down to dinner outside. But the crowning achievement came last week when the power washer was brought out. It was going for about an hour washing up a pair of plastic lawn chairs and a chaise longue. Then he put them at the curb for the garbage guys to pick up. Surely washing ones’ garbage should win some sort of environmental stewardship award.

Fortunately he seems to be the aberration. The immediate neighbours are quietly friendly and respectful. Some may become friends in time. The apartment complex feels like a community – a home, and spring has brought tangible proof of how people feel about living here. In spite of clauses in the lease prohibiting plants on balconies, many (including mine) are festooned with all manner of pots and vines and bird feeders. Some of the gardens that are part of the courtyards have been taken over, planted and are being tended by the tenant. One small lawn is a tomato patch, and I’m told that the tomatoes get shared around at the end of the season. The amateur sociologist in me says that people are “owning” their space and making it their home.

And then there are the rabbits. At first a large mature adult, and now smaller bunnies munching on the lawns first thing in the morning. The superintendent is aware of them and many of their dens, but prefers to leave them alone. So hopefully, they too have a place to call home. And the presence of fuzzy little bunnies can go a long way to offsetting the occasional noisy neighbour.

February 25: For many years I harboured the dream of spending an extended period of time in Europe. With parental / family duties continuing, I realized several years ago that this dream was not going to be possible for the foreseeable future.

In 2010, we had a reunion of sorts for the “Inglewood Gang”, a group of friends that I have mostly known since high school. I half-jokingly said that the next reunion would be in Paris to celebrate our 65^th year on the planet. And in the intervening years I’ve been quietly bugging them about going. I figured that, even if nobody else went, I would have a personal objective to meet.

Over the last 6 months, plans have been firmed up and it looks like there will be 10 people making the trip. In December we booked a place to stay just south of Carpentras, and today I booked the flight, a car, and a motorcycle.

Arriving in Paris, I have a month in a car, then a month on a motorcycle, before a week at the house we rented. I’m hoping to start out in northeast France, and then wander through Alsace, the Black Forest and central Germany to northeastern Italy. I want to scout out the Dolomites – maybe for a future motorcycle trip. I get the bike in Nice and I’m thinking of a loop through the Massif and western France before a longer time in the Pyrenees. My cousin James, brother-in-law Joe, and my good friend Chris are joining me for the last week of the bike trip, probably through southeast France. Then a week at the house with the whole mob, and a few days in Paris before coming home.

As a friend said, it will be long enough to be a journey rather than a trip. I can’t wait…