Welcome to Spain

We spent last night in Paris and had a 7:20 am flight to Barcelona. After picking up luggage and buying train tickets into the center of Barcelona we lucked out with a train waiting for us. In Barcelona we had to buy tickets to our final destination - Tarragona. Again a very short wait. Luck was about to run out.

Because De Anne's suitcase is a monster it has not fit in a single luggage rack in Europe. In Belgium I left it in the train door area and just kept an eye on it. I did the same this time and we had the closest seats to the door. 

That worked out good when a large group of thieves boarded the train. Of course at the time we did not know they were a gang. I managed to jump up and grab the bag just as one of the thieves picked it up. Three guys all squeezed in on me. I rammed my way, rather hard, between two of them with the suitcase and put it in my seat and leaned on it. Just then a woman with a British accent began raising a ruckus about her bag being stolen. Lots of yelling and screaming, most not in English, but a lot of confusion and people milling around in the aisle.

Taking inventory of my pockets, I realize €15 is missing from my front pants pocket. I did not even bring my wallet to Europe, having expected this to happen. Passports, Drivers license, and two credit cards are in a neck wallet tucked under a tight undershirt with a heavy shirt over that. Cash is in a money belt except a little bit for traveling. I had already bought two sets of train tickets so the poor pickpocket was shorted. I am sure he will make it up in volume.

Then, on arrival, an even bigger problem. My Italian cell phone which worked in France and Belgium does not work in Spain. Our apartment is only 3 blocks from the train station so we went there. As I suspected it was a locked buzzer door. A man walked up and between my tiny bit of Spanish, his tiny bit of English and a lot of sign language he got across that he did not have a cell phone but pointed to a call store on the next block. These stores have Internet access, sell cell phones and minutes, and have a few phone booths for local calls. Using, once again, my tiny Spanish I sweet talked the clerk into making the phone call to the apartment company. He hung up and said "5 minutos". Sure enough, 5 minutes later the leasing agent showed up.

We walked the town, mainly looking for a supermarket, but by this time it was 2:00pm and everything was closed. Siesta time is in force here. 1:00pm until 4:00pm do not expect anything to be open. 

Nothing left to do but head for the beach.

The plaza across from the beach. Our apartment is one block up on the right of this street.

The beach was fantastic. Warm, clear water, soft sand and beautiful people (except for the occasional person such as myself). After walking this beach with our toes in the water, it was clear why people flock to the Mediterranean beaches.

From the board walk.

We have just come back from the now open market, stocked up. We have a walk around plan for tomorrow. Life is good!

Reflections on Belgium

This is the last day of our two weeks in Belgium. We have visited six towns along the coast, seen a few tourist sites and wandered off the beaten path numerous times. 

During the past two years we have spent six weeks in Panama, a month in the Dominican Republic, three months in Ecuador, and now finishing up two months in Europe, with six weeks to go. 

Because of these travels and actually spending the time to get to know a place, I feel slightly able to pass judgement. Belgium is the cleanest country with the nicest people in the world. The times we exited the tourist haunts and wandered side streets and roads we were always expecting to see the "seedy" side. That never happened. 

The people are family oriented and are out and about together every evening. The younger adults with children and the older folks with dogs. If a child falls off a bike the nearest adult scoops them up until a parent takes over. The teenagers go about their own business, but quietly. 

There are not a lot of guard rails, hand rails, and locked fences like in America. I suspect liability laws are different here. If you wander in front of the train or step off the edge of the boardwalk that was your decision. There seems to be some consideration of being responsible for yourself here. I have only seen three policemen in the past two weeks.

You never hear cross voices, there are no panhandlers or street people, and cars stop at pedestrian walkways if you are at the curb.

Pedestrian walkway at far right, red brick bike path, single lane for cars, then trolley tracks. All repeated on the other side for opposing traffic. And a few flowers in the median, of course.

There is one problem group here. Little old ladies. They will cut in line in front of you given half a chance. The first day here I got cut in on at the grocery store and thought it was a mistake. Saw the same thing in a tram line and thought it a coincidence. Had another one test me at the bakery and realized it was a trend. Stared a little old lady down who was trying to inch in front of me at the night market a couple days ago. I have let some of them go - after all who wants to fight with little old ladies? Maybe it is a social perk here I am unaware of and I am perpetuating the ugly American story.

Of course I am nitpicking. This is a wonderful, beautiful country populated with happy, pleasant people.

Water control

We explored the dikes and gates controlling the waters leading into Nieuwpoort. We had seen it from the tram last week and figured a closer look was needed. Five rivers and canals feed the main harbor. All are lead into a central pool that then flows past the marina, feeds the central channel, and emptys into the sea.

Note the poles along the concrete dam. A sluice gate is raised and lowered on these poles.

Just because this is functional machinery doesn't mean you can't have flowers too.

The central basin. 3 of the 5 gates are visible.

The "Y" where sailboats converge leaving the two separate sections of the marina. They use this wide spot to raise sail to assist their powering out to the sea.

Out the window

We never have to travel far for entertainment. Sometimes it is right out the window. Today a kiddie park was set up on the boardwalk.

A few days ago it was dancers, music, and free fresh fruit. Having no command of the Dutch language what so ever we are always surprised when crews arrive to setup, even though I suspect posters around town give fair warning.

Even the sunsets are watchable from the apartment.

Of course we do get out. Just past the beach, boardwalk, and high rises are some very cute neighborhoods. Several homes in town sport thatch roofs like the house on the left with the white chimney.

If you walk just a few hundred yards more inland the scene becomes more pastoral.

Last week we stopped on our way back from admiring the farms to watch an hour of a pro tennis tournament being held just a block from our building.

But, of course, the most fun is people watching. Especially on the beach. These folks are serious about sand castles! Adults and kids show up with real shovels, not these little plastic scoops Americans use. They start digging like mad and it is not unusual to see a fifteen foot diameter sand wall with a trench to the water to fill the moat and all the excess sand piled five feet high in the center as the castle.

After all this hard work they relax sometimes under a beach umbrella, but more often behind a wind screen. Because the North Sea here produces 12 to 14 foot tides most castles disappear within six hours.

If you don't bring your own wind screen, no problem. You can rent a "cubicle" space behind a wind screen like the ones set up on left side of the picture.

The sunset picture was almost low tide, the picture above about half way, and the one below is high tide. The difference between low and high changes the width of the beach by a couple hundred yards.

Seagull mayhem

Under threatening skies we threw caution to the wind and set out to explore a couple large parks in Oostende. A pair of swans spotted us from across the the lake and made a bee line toward us as we sat on a lakeside bench. I walked toward the shore to get a close up shot as De Anne warned me to be careful. She noted that swans can be aggressive. They were looking for free food, not a fight. As I had nothing to offer the swans lost interest in us and moved on.

In the other park we crossed a small foot bridge to the island in the middle of the park.

A statue, titled "The Wind" was cute with a seagull perched on top.

This turned out to be our last moments of good feelings about seagulls for the day. I should also mention the seagulls around here are huge. Two to three times the size of gulls in America. 

Just a little while later as we crossed another bridge we heard a ruckus and looked up in time to see a duck with its beak clamped on a seagull's tail. The seagull had something in its beak. We suddenly realized it was a baby duckling and mama duck was trying to save one of its babies. The gull made a get-away with its soon to be lunch.

We walked back to the train station and took the trolley into downtown Oostende for lunch. After lunch we strolled the sea side boardwalk looking for a giant statue of a man riding a turtle. The Belgium people have a good deal of large artwork on the beaches. While walking, just in front of us, a young couple was enjoying their carry out from Mc Donald's. A gull flew just past my ear and snatched the Big Mac from the young lady just as she was taking a bite. The seagull came out of the encounter with the lion's share. within a couple seconds dozens of other gulls were trying to steal his stolen burger. The young lady turned out to be American because we heard her say to the young man "Well, I still have my French fries". The late arriving seagulls must have heard her because they started moving in mass toward her. She noticed the threat (I was starting to have visions of Alfred Hitchcock) and both of them decided to continue lunch elsewhere. 

I retract my comment of last week about polite seagulls.

Beach walk

It was a hot, sunny day so we decided to walk the beach to the next town, Nieuwpoort. We has passed through on the tram during the weekend and felt a second look was needed. It has the largest marina in Northern Europe. Although the beaches are crowded at each town there are few folks on some large stretches. The picture below shows the long beach we had to ourselves this afternoon. The warning sign is because of a nearby military base and if the red flags are out there will be target practice. No mention if the targets are civilians who ignore signs.

We did walk past one woman. As we were walking the surf line she and her dog came down to the water line. She removed her shorts and panties and slipped into her bikini bottom, then off came the tee shirt and bra. She put on the top and went swimming. She could have waited thirty seconds until I had passed, but apparently my presence was a non-issue. I was entertained and insulted at the same time, and no I did not take a picture.

Arriving at the channel we watched an endless procession of boats entering and leaving.

A free ferry runs across the channel to shuffle bikers and pedestrians since the nearest bridge is over a mile upstream - behind the marina. The orderly parade of boats is upset about every ten minutes when  the ferry crosses the channel, spins around and docks on the other side. Even sailboats under sail give way to the ferry.

Atlantikwall

The Atlantic Wall museum and military site is just a few miles down the road from us. It was a warm, sunny day so of course we decided to creep through tunnels and bunkers. 

Most of the Belgium coast was fortified in WWI and WWII and looking carefully you can still see decayed concrete bunkers just peeking out from the dunes and shrubs all along the coast. This one area has been preserved and maintained as a snapshot in time.

I was quite struck by the effort and materials needed to fortify the coast and the elaborate brick tunnels honey combing the hills overlooking the sea. 

De Anne down the rabbit hole.

One of the big guns

Anti-aircraft support.

Command bunker.

I was quite appalled at the number of Lugers and MP 38 & 40's in the arms locker display just sitting there behind a glass wall. Then I noticed the original steel blast doors into the underground room were operational, then saw the discreet modern motion detectors and realized the arsenal was likely safe.

The view from the Atlantic Wall has changed a bit since 1942. Rommel reviewing the beach defenses.

.....and today.

Day pass

We set out early this morning with day passes on the coastal tram. First stop was Oostende. The big city on the coast. We jumped off the tram in the heart of the city. 

Of course we naturally gravitated to the water front and a marina in front of the train station.

Two streets in front of the train station had draw bridges serving the marina and the channel also had two sea gates. I don't think they were actually locks since I did not see the water level change. I think the heavy wooden gates were to protect the marina from storm surge. We watched 3 sailboats traverse the two draw bridges and two sea gates together.

Back on the tram we followed the coast and hopped off a few times to explore on foot. I now believe the Belgium coast has a sea wall and boardwalk from end to end. In the cities it is 50 yards wide and in the undeveloped areas 12 feet wide. All of it is cobblestone.

Random beach check.

This is the cleanest country I have ever seen. The people here plant flowers everywhere and all lawns and shrubs are ready for Better Homes and Gardens centerfolds. 

Even the sea gulls are polite. Here are a flock of gulls feeding in the wild below a pier.

I found out that feeding sea gulls is a €250.00 fine. Yikes!! No wonder they don't hang around humans. No one in their right mind would risk giving a gull a bread crumb. Now I am thinking I had better find out what the fine for jaywalking is.

Westende-Bad

We are now on the coast of the North Sea. Our 8th floor studio overlooks the very wide beach which stretches for miles in both directions. The weather is mild (meaning chilly for De Anne). The Belgium people flock to these beaches in July and August; however, we seem to have lost the American and Oriental tourists. 

No matter, everyone here speaks English - they just don't want to. The young lady at the checkout in the grocery store did not utter a word of English to us until after a few moments of distress over her register - looked up and said in perfect English "It is not your card. The register is broken. I have to get the manager". 

On the train from Brussels to Oostende the conductor's greeting was "French, Spanish, German, or English?" He then slipped right into perfect English.

 I think I have found out why everyone speaks English like Americans. I surfed 25 channels on TV last night. 22 channels were American shows in English with (I think) Flemish sub-titles.

From our windows.

The chocolate is good and the meat fresh.

The coastal tram. Longest tram line in the world. A tram goes by every ten minutes.

On the boardwalk. Do not email me about the sign.

Every type of bike is available here.

Au Revoir Paris

The people of France gave us a great send off Sunday. A parade in the morning and fireworks in front of the Eiffel Tower last night. We were quite touched and honored. They also called it French National Day or as we in America mistakenly refer to it - Bastille Day.

France still has a regiment of Calvary.

The horses (for obvious reasons) were the next to the last parade unit. 

And for that final touch up work, the men in green.

Alas, fireworks pictures did not turn out well. We got home after midnight because the fireworks did not start until 11:00pm. Because Paris is so far north it does not get dark until then. The sun does come up around 5:00am.

Tomorrow we travel to Belgium. Subway to Paris North station, train to Brussels, train to Brugge, train to Oosteade, and lastly a tram to Westende for a two week stay on the North Sea. 

Saturday in the park

We went off the beaten path of most tourists today and spent the morning in Jardin des Plantes, which translates in English to "garden of plants". Sounds better in French.

It is not listed in the guide books, but it was close and a nice morning for a stroll. What a pleasant surprise. Paris, for all its cosmopolitan interests, does have large green spaces throughout the city.

Now, if I posted a picture of every statue I passed it would fill my fifty gigs of storage; however, this is one I really liked as a stopped action shot. Note the hunter has a cub tied to his waist. Mama bear has a dagger stuck in her neck while she has a death grip on the hunter. All are doomed.

We strolled the left bank headed home. Where the river splits, creating the two islands of original Paris, barge traffic waits for a green light to pass under the "one lane" bridge. Two commercial barges can be seen waiting and another two are upstream out of the picture. Note that using the white crane resting on deck that they can swing the rowboat in the water or the car on to land. There was a husband, wife and young son aboard, laundry drying on the stern, and curtains in the windows. A family works and lives on board. They were shipping a load of gravel.

Back home. Our courtyard door is the light wooden double doors between the green shaded fruit stand and La Petite Cafe. This is very typical for Paris. I wonder how many tourists, staying in hotels, never realize that these double doors (originally for horses and carriages) hide courtyards and home entrances for most Paris residents.