Farewell

To My Loyal Few:

Thank you so much for all of your support these past several years. Due to an error on my part, this blog showed up in some search engines under my real name and, therefore, some people from my "real" life happened upon it. I will be taking it down tonight, as it was never my intention for it to be accessible in this manner. It's been my haven -- my safe space -- to write whatever I was feeling or thinking, regardless of how ugly it may have sounded. This freedom to share my thoughts without fear of reprisal has now been violated and this space can no longer be what it was intended to be.

Who knows, I may pop up somewhere else on Blogger - only time will tell -- but for now, I bid you all adieu!

The Sleep-over

Call me a glutton for punishment. Call me an idiot. Call me wishy-washy or even down-right insane. All of these would probably be true today. "A" invited me to dinner last night -- so I went. The food was great, the company was pleasant and the evening reminded me of some of our better days together when we were living in Austin.

As the evening drew to a close, he kind of invited himself to stay the night. Although there was no sex (Ron), we did sleep together. My thinking was that he would be as miserable as I was and thus see the sense in us continuing to maintain our separate homes. The night WAS miserable, but this morning he was ready to start looking for a home together. I finally had to tell him that I'm NOT on board with that idea. I felt so trapped last night... uncomfortable... my space invaded and my lovely, quiet existence disturbed. He's pushing me and I don't like it. I know that I need to make a stand once and for all. I can't let things keep dragging on like this.

The thing is, I know that he loves me -- if he didn't there's no way he would put up with the emotional roller coaster I've had him on this past year -- but I know too that the moment he's won me over, he'll turn right back into the man I cannot stand to be with.

Go ahead, "idiot, glutton for punishment, wishy-washy, insane!" It's nothing I haven't said to myself at least a hundred times already this morning.

Reality Check

My manager says I'm not looking at things the right way, so I thought I would pose this question to my loyal readers (the four of you ARE still out there, right?) ;-)

What premium are you willing to pay for a product in order to buy it from a company you like or a person you like?

Let's say you could get product X for $1,000 from Company A, which is a very reputable company but you don't have a personal relationship with anyone working there.

Let's also say that you could get product X for between $1,100 to $1,500 from Companies B, C, D or E, but they're companies you've never heard of.

Or, you could get product X for $1,600 from a charming sales person who works for one of the old bulwark companies that's been around forever, hence I'll call it Company F.

There is no difference in the product, save the company name printed on it.

Which product would you buy? Even if you LOVED the sales person and were a die-hard fan of Company F?

On Returning Home

Our return flight to the States was long and exhausting. We arrived in Norfolk at 10:50 and after collecting luggage and driving home, ended the trip officially at about 11:30 pm - nearly 24 hours after starting the day in Berlin.

I found the return to be difficult. My body did not want to adjust to the time and my mind did not want to return to the mundane after such mountaintop experiences in Europe. I found that I was faced with a number of decisions:

• How to tell "A" that it's time for us to put an end to things once and for all (something at which I completely suck because I'm a COWARD!)
• What to do about my job situation (the company has implemented a number of changes that have complicated my job 200 fold.)
• What do do about my LIFE!

This trip left me feeling as if my life has amounted to squat thus far and that I want to make a significant change. I don't know what that change might be, as I'm really not suited for much besides marketing, sales and singing. At first, I thought about going back to school... or doing an immersion course in a second language... or selling everything I own and backpacking across Europe... but I couldn't identify any real plan or defined course of action... I just knew that THIS isn't it. My mom asked me what I would be if I could be anything in the world -- and it took me back to the origins of this blog... a 40's torch singer. Not much call for those these days... but I meant it!

Funny, for all of my angst about my future, the world did not stop turning and my bills did not cease to be due so, for now, I've resigned myself to just work hard and hopefully save enough money to travel the world. For now, I have to get back to my life, such as it is, and make a go of it.

Day Nine: Finale

After a whirlwind run by the Reichstag and the Brandenburg Gate last night, we checked in to the Park Inn Alexanderplatz for our final two nights of the trip. It was a very modern high-rise hotel and upon entering the room, I was struck by the configuration: there was a glass shower immediately in front of the door, a water closet off to the left behind a mirrored door, to the right - a sink and vanity, and then a small twin bed against the wall, flanked by a small desk. The room reminded me a bit of a train berth, as the whole room was about the size of a postage stamp! It was fine for me because I paid for a room alone -- but I wondered about my fellow choir members who were sharing rooms -- especially with that glass shower!

We had the morning off and then were scheduled to visit the Pergamon Museum, where we would have approximately one hour to tour. Our director and our two members missing passports were sent off to the US Consulate to get replacements and our two organists would be taking a taxi to the Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche, where we would perform our final concert this evening.

We were to meet two local tour guides, who were to lead us through the museum - but they were nowhere in sight. After a few phone calls, it was determined that we should have picked them up by bus along the way. Nearly 30 minutes later, a guide shows up -- but he is forbidden to give a tour inside the Pergamon -- he is, instead, a guide for the Germany museum of history. So, with 30 minutes remaining before we have to board the buses for our final rehearsal, we grab our audio guides and sprint through the museum. The Department of Greek and Roman Antiquities was truly amazing and the Pergamon Altar (180 - 160 BC) was colossal! I made a side trip into the Islamic Art wing and found myself completely lost in the maze of silk carpets, mosaics and reconstructed buildings. I was one of the last to return to the bus and could have spent a whole day browsing in this wonderful museum.

The Kaiser-Wilhelm-Gedachtniskirche was built along side the original 1895 church, which was a memorial to Kaiser Wilhelm I. In 1945 the building was virtually destroyed by Allied bombs and the ruins were left as a reminder of the era's suffering and devastation. In 1961, directly at the base of the ruined building, a small-scale, modern church was erected. The octagonal hall is lit solely by thousands of colored glass windows set into a honeycomb framework.

I found the building to be depressing and very Gothic. The space seemed to swallow up sound as soon as it left its source -- both the organ and our voices seemed dull and muted. We had a very short window in which to complete an Andacht service and then a short concert before the church closed at 7pm. We all felt this was our poorest performance yet and I felt a bit odd singing Ein Feste Burg ist unser Gott (A Mighty Fortress is Our God) in a Catholic church - as this was the battle cry of the Reformation.

I think we were all relieved to be done with the concert and, as we left and headed to our last dinner at the Brauhaus Mitte, an air of sadness seemed to descend that our adventure was nearly over.

We ate our chicken and mixed vegetables gleefully and ordered halbes of the local brew. Finally, the recognition began and we gave our tour guides and drivers commemorative t-shirts. We even performed the song below for our dear Peter -- much to the delight of the other patrons at the restaurant. As we settled down, a young man came over to Billye and asked if we could sing something for his friend - as they were there for a bit of a bachelor party. We put our heads together and decided to sing, "I'm Getting Married in the Morning" We did our best broadway and the poor chap sat there staring at us blankly . It turns out that he spoke NO ENGLISH WHATSOEVER! It was great fun, though!

As we left the restaurant, word started to spread that a small group would be visiting the oldest pub in Berlin, guided by our dear Iain. We met in the hotel lobby and set off on foot (of course) for this secret location. On the way, Iain started to have second thoughts, I believe, as we were a lively band! (Iain is a confirmed bachelor and lives alone in a small village in France.)

We arrived to an empty pub and immediately changed the place for all eternity. We laughed and joked and watched Peter and Iain spar (the Scotsman and the Englishman). As we passed the midnight hour, we decided we should probably head back to the hotel, as we had to be at the airport by 8 am. Iain was kind enough to offer me his arm for the treacherous walk down cobblestone streets (and me in heels) and we decided to have just one more beer before turning in for the night. The two of us sat together in the hotel bar and talked for hours... and the last night of the trip soon became the most memorable. (Edited to add: but not for the reasons you may be thinking. Iain is literally old enough to be my father. He's a no-nonsense kind of guy who helped me to see that life's too short to run around with regrets, doubts and insecurities. I owe him a great debt for that.)

SIDEBAR: My Life as a Lyricist

As the trip progressed, we began singing silly words to the tunes of some of the songs from our repertoire. Finally, my true genius could shine -- for funny lyrics are my forte'. Following is an example, based on the Sacred Harp tune, "O, When Shall I See Jesus"

O, when shall I see Leipzig
In rain from up on high
And shall hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

And there's a flowing fountain
But the bus cannot draw nigh
And shall hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

REFRAIN:
Oh shout, "hurry"
Thou shalt mount upon the bus
And shall hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

Gird on the raincoat brother
And be prepared to run
And you'll hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

For the bus cannot go hither
To food or rest or fun
And you'll hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

(REFRAIN)

Our ears shall hear with gladness
That bathrooms are ahead
And shall hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

Our tongues shall speak the glories
Of dumplings ne'er again
And shall hear the voice of Peter in that morning.

(REFRAIN)

END

(c) Oh to be a 40's Torch Singer.
All rights reserved.

We sang this for Peter on the final evening. I think Iain's feelings might have been a bit injured...

There are other pieces on which I'm working for our "after party."

Titles include:

"Oh, Crap, I Accident'ly Turned Off the Organ"
"Deep Sleep (on a Plane or Bus to You)"
"You Be Naughty"
"When Will I Be Sightseeing?"

Maybe there's a future in the arts for me after all!

Day Eight: Leipzig

Our day began with a bus trip to Leipzig, where we visited Thomaskirche. This is the church where JS Bach was cantor for 27 years and where his remains rest today. Again, not quite "getting" us as a group, our head tour guide (Iain) allowed seven minutes for us to visit this church - not realizing how profound it is for a musician to stand before the resting place of such a great! As we stood there quietly, reverently, Billye began to sing ever so softly the Komm in mein Herzenshaus... there was not a dry eye to be found.

We had a few quick moments to spend at the Bach Museum and then it was back on the bus to head for Wittenberg. Thankfully, our dear Peter insisted that we be allowed to spend some time in Lutherstadt Wittenberg -- the capital of the Reformation. We saw Schosskirche, where Luther posted his 95 Theses, Marienkirche, where Luther preached and Lutherhalle, a museum dedicated to Luther and artist Luther Cranach.

We were then back on the bus and headed for Berlin, where our tour would end. To add yet another adventure to our journey, one of our travelers found that he was completely unable to keep up with the tour group and so had to have special arrangements made for all travel by foot. On this evening, he was put in a taxi and sent to the restaurant where we were all to meet in an hour's time. It was about a seven minute walk from where the buses were parked. Everyone took the hour to check out the church where our final concert would occur the following evening and to do a little window shopping. When we arrived at the restaurant, Ron was not there. Unfortunately, no one had gotten the name of the cab company, nor the cab number and, as far as we were aware, Ron did not have the name and address of the hotel with him. Thankfully, he DID speak fluent German -- but everyone was still quite concerned.

The tour guides and bus drivers went into action and finally, the police were called in. As we were about to finish dinner, we received word that Ron was fine. He'd been at the hotel all along and the hotel had called the tour company and they had tracked us down at the restaurant. Even though Ron spoke perfect German, his taxi driver did not! He was Turkish! We later found out that the restaurant had recently moved and Ron was taken to the old location and let out -- alone! Bless his heart, he was a good sport about it all. Thank God he was okay!

Oh, did I mention that dinner was sausage and sauerkraut? At least there were no freakin' dumplings!

Day Seven: Off to Dresden

Dresden -- a city decimated by the Allied bombings of World War II, has fortunately been restored to much of its former glory. In particular, the reconstruction of Frauenkirche (Church of Our Lady) has had a tremendous impact on healing old wounds.

I spent the day with my parents, walking the city and seeing the sights. Then we had a guided tour of Frauenkirche and various other buildings of historical significance. We ended the day with a visit to the Zwinger, where we saw Raphael's Sistine Madonna.

We finished the evening with dinner at Sophienkeller, where we were served more dumplings and sauerkraut! I left the majority of my dinner on my plate, as this was the third time in as many days that we'd been served the same fare. Between dinner and dessert, we were entertained by a magician, who moved from table to table. In an effort to see what he was doing, one of my fellow sopranos leaned across her table... near the candle... catching her hair on fire! I only noticed when one of her dinner companions jumped up and started hitting her in the head with his napkin. She was fine -- just some singed hair and a bruised ego -- but the stench of burned hair permeated the room for the remainder of the evening. Never a dull moment with this group!

Then, we were off to the hotel. Peter asked us who had not eaten their dumplings and the entire bus raised their hands! He surmised that the leftover dumplings had been smashed flat, dredged in powdered sugar and served again as dessert! The bus was soon rocking with the chant: "No more dumplings, no more dumplings!" We then got a complete stand-up comedy routine from Peter -- who had apparently had several halbes of Pills with his dinner! (Those are half-liter Pilsners, for those who require translation.)

We drove and drove and drove and drove and were beginning to wonder where the heck this place was! When at last we arrived at this less-than-attractive facility (which looked a bit like a cheesy motel), we were instructed to stay on the bus and that the staff would board the bus to give us our keys. The young man informed us that they had two pay channels that were FREE - but that one "must like titties". (Did he not KNOW that this was a church group?) Turns out they were porn channels. He also asked that we refrain from coming to breakfast all at once, as they would not be able to accommodate all of us. Fortunately, the rooms were very nice and there was a cute little pub attached where several of us enjoyed a good local beer with our tour guides.

In the morning, we tried to stagger our arrival at breakfast and much to our delight enjoyed the best buffet yet -- including caviar and smoked salmon! Looks can be deceiving. I would never have thought that this would be one of the most enjoyable stays yet (and NOT because of the porn channels, Ron!)

Day Six: If it's Tuesday it must be Weimar

There was an aggressive sight-seeing agenda planned for the day. We were given the option the night night before to go or to stay. The day trip was made to sound like a harrowing foray into the unknown and given the previous day's events and the fact that we had a full concert that evening, I opted out. I missed a trip to Wartburg Castle, Lutherstube (where Martin Luther translated the Bible into German), the Bach family home and historic St. George's Church. Everyone who went thoroughly enjoyed the trip, but I rather enjoyed the down time.

Sometimes, too much togetherness makes me cranky and I was feeling the need for space. I am definitely not a herd animal! The need for down time was punctuated by a splitting headache and an upset stomach, so I caught up on my journal entries and rested. It was a cold and rainy day -- just perfect for lounging about doing nothing. I sauntered down to the hotel restaurant for lunch and tried out a few phrases of German with my waitress. She smiled enthusiastically... but her English was far superior to my German!

Our concert at St. Marien Church in Bad Berka (click on "Geschichte" to see pictures) received a hearty standing ovation. The church was beautiful and the organ was designed and installed by Bach. With a full and swell and dozens of stops that had to be pulled, we saw a literal example of "pulling out all the stops" at the conclusion of the postlude. The sound was amazing.

Speaking of amazing, during "Amazing Grace," one member of our audience was moved to tears. Music truly is the universal language.

To add to our list of adventures, two members of our choir got locked in the church after the concert. We were all scheduled to change clothes in an outbuilding, but due to lack of space, Larry and Jeff decided to change in the church. Not realizing there was anyone inside, the Sexton locked them in. Thankfully, someone heard them shrieking like girls and banging on the doors and brought help.

Speaking of girls... we had three teenage girls on the trip as well. As we rode up to our rooms in the elevator that night, the grandmother of two of the girls shared a story about her youngest granddaughter. It seems that she had visited the hotel's pool, where she encountered several naked men. She told her grandmother about this and her grandmother, appalled, asked if she left immediately, to which Katherine replied, "No, Nana, it was okay. They had their legs crossed."

Priceless.

Day Five, continued: Man's Inhumanity to Man

We arrived at the camp and traveled down "Blood Road", which was a cobblestone roadway built by the prisoners. The sky was gray and there was a heaviness about the place, despite its location in a beautiful wood.

We watched a brief film about the camp and then set out on a walking tour. As I walked those streets and gazed at the ruins of the barracks, I couldn't help but wonder about the feet that walked them some sixty years ago. In places, stones had been left on the markers identifying the various blocks... Bulgarians, Jehovah's Witnesses, Jews, Senti and Roma... Women and children, homosexuals, deserters and conscientious objectors. Leaving stones at a burial site is a Jewish sign of remembrance. I placed several myself on the markers where there were none... someone MUST remember.

As we left the camp, we gathered around the Russian memorial to the survivors and victims. There, we listened to the Mourner's Kaddish and recited the 23rd Psalm. Our director and her husband then sang Adonai R'oi. It was a profound moment in a gorgeous setting overlooking the town of Weimar. How could such horror happen in the midst of such beauty?

Our evening continued with our visit to St. Stephan's Church (Buchenwald Memorial Church) where we were met by Father Muller and several of his parishioners -- none of whom spoke a word of English! They served us Thuringien sausages in the pouring rain and seemed delighted to see us.

After dinner, Father Muller explained the significance of the artwork on the church's altar. It was a free-form metal piece that was reminiscent of barbed wire. It was in three colors: black, gold and red. He explained that the Gold signified God, the Black, evil, and the red striving against evil and the blood that was shed at Buchenwald. The cross in the center had a crown of thorns that has been transformed by the risen Christ into rays of light.

We held a church service together and shared communion. It was a very special service, although few from the area attended.

We ended our evening with dinner at a local Rathskeller in the town center and finally arrived back at our hotel well after 11pm. It was an exhausting day -- both physically and emotionally -- but an experience I would not trade for anything.

Day Five: Prelude

Day Five began on a light note, as our dear Peter (affectionately referred to with our faux British accents as "Pee-tah") described our day thus:

"We are going to Buchenwald and meeting a person whom I do not know, paying them an unknown sum of money and getting some PDA devices. I don't know what they are or if we'll even need them. Unfortunately, the museum is closed today, but we might walk about the grounds, unless the gate is locked, in which case our entire trip will be for naught." I swear it was like having John Cleese narrating our trip!

He went on to tell us about his most memorable trip. He was studying in London and his professor took the entire class to see a production of Faust just outside of town. No one was particularly interested in attending - as the play is notoriously boring - but much to the students' delight and the professor's dismay, the entire cast was NUDE!

Day Four: Face to Face with God

Our morning began with our director's son announcing that he'd left his passport at the church the night before. Frantic phone calls were made, as we would need to cross the border into the Czech Republic that evening... but it wasn't looking promising. You'll recall that we had another member of our merry band without a passport as well. If they were not admitted to the Czech Republic, they would have to go on by another means to our next location -- Weimar.

With that cloud hanging over our heads we set off for Passau, whose long history goes back to Roman times. The city lies on a peninsula between the rivers Danube and Inn, near the Austrian border. Peter gave us a run down of our day, which included all of the things we couldn't do: we can't start our walking tour at the tower, because the bus can't get there and it's a long, long walk. There are services today, so we probably won't be able to see the cathedral and certainly all of the shops will be closed. It became comical. We dubbed our trip, "A Bridge to Nowhere" (in reality, it was called "A Bridge Across the Water").

Despite the low expectations set for us by dear Peter, we arrived at St. Stephan, the site of (purportedly) the largest pipe organ in the world, right at the end of Sunday Mass. We stood quietly in the back -- taking in the stunning sights -- until the service had ended, and as the postlude began, we moved down the aisle and turned to behold the most magnificent instrument I've ever seen. As the music began to swell, it sounded as if one was desperately pleading with God for mercy and I was moved to tears. To say that it was glorious is insufficient -- in fact, there are no words adequate to describe this experience.

As I stood there in awe, I noticed a little boy in a stroller, who was perfectly positioned to view the magnificent paintings on the ceiling. Just then, a broad smile broke across his face, his blue eyes danced and he reached up his little hands to the sky, as if to say, "pick me up, pick me up!" The painting above us was of an angel with outstretched arms.

As we left the church, our organists and director garnered an invitation to see the organ. They came back glowing and I doubt that their feet touched the ground the rest of the day! Come to find out, the organist who transported us all to heaven with his playing was a 22 year old substitute who was improvising based on a simple hymn tune. Astounding.

I spent the remainder of the day with our church organist and her husband, taking the walking tour that was supposedly impossible and enjoying every moment of it. We stopped for lunch outside the City Hall in an outdoor cafe for a delicious German meal of sausages, kraut and potato salad. It was a perfect day!

That is, until we got back on the bus to head for the Czech Republic. There had been no word on the passport that was left behind and we still had yet another member who would have to visit the Consulate in Berlin to have his replaced. We did what everyone does in times of trouble -- we prayed. We prayed for favor. We prayed that they would wave us through... and as we approached this foreboding structure on the Czech border, our prayers were answered.

Our elation at our easy entry to the Czech Republic was soon replaced with an uneasiness. The landscape had changed significantly... there were abandoned buildings and graffiti everywhere and as we drove toward our hotel, we all wondered what we might find there.

We now pause to bring you this word from our sponsor

Sorry to interrupt the trip log. I just have to say that I am in a blue funk since returning to the States. More than ever before, I loathe my job, am bored with my surroundings and long for something more... something different... something exciting. Mid-life crisis at 42?

I just want to pull the covers over my head and disappear... or better yet, sell everything I own and run off to Europe (DAMN, I sound JUST like my Ex!).

Day Three: Salzburg

Our second day in Salzburg began with a wonderful breakfast at the hotel consisting of fresh fruits and vegetables, bread and cheese, yoghurt and boiled eggs. It reminded me a great deal of breakfast in Turkey, only missing the feta cheese and olives.

Our tour included a visit to the Residenz, Salzburg's palace, which was the seat of the Salzburg prince-archbishops. I saw the rooms where Mozart played as a child. We also visited Mozart's House, where I bought my first tacky tourist item: a Mozart t-shirt. We then took a walking tour of the city center, including the open-air market, where we ate lunch and chatted with our fellow travelers. Unfortunately, one member of our group was the victim of a pick-pocket and lost all money, credit cards and her husband's passport in the process.

At four that afternoon, we arrived at Stadtpfarrkirche Saint Nicolas in Bad Ischl for rehearsal. The church is beautiful! Of special note is the organ: it is called “Organ of the Emperor´s Jubilee” as was donated to the church in 1910 by the Emperor Franz Joseph I for his 80th anniversary. The organ was redone by Rieger again in 1993. It has 3 manuals, 59 registers and pedals and 3.789 pipes. Our tour organist had to send in credentials and letters of recommendation in order to be allowed to play it!

We were scheduled to perform four selections during the evening Mass and then do a concert following the service; although, upon arrival, we still did not know which selections the priest had chosen for the service.

After rehearsal, we jogged down the street to Cafe' Sissy where we nearly inhaled our Wiener Schnitzel in order to be back at the church to change into our concert attire (in a glass-walled room) for the evening's services. In the midst of this chaos, our director's husband (Rusty) realized that he'd left his tuxedo pants at the hotel. Thankfully, another choir member had been wearing black pants that day - so Rusty ended up wearing a tuxedo on top, and black jeans on the bottom!

With three minutes remaining before the evening Mass began, Billye (our director) ran into the room where we were waiting and hurriedly gave us the order of service before herding us out the door and to the organ balcony (which was up a narrow spiral staircase). The service went off without a hitch and the concert received a standing ovation.

I think that our tour guides were quite taken aback. After suffering through the whining about all of the walking and myriad complaints from our older choir members, they were pleasantly surprised to learn that we could really sing!

Upon our return to the hotel, a group of us met in the lobby bar for a few cocktails before heading off to bed. All-in-all, it was a magnificent day!

All Roads Lead to Ausfahrt

Spending hours on a bus will turn the most civilized person into a silly sot. I noticed a plethora of signs that said "Ausfahrt" and when others noticed them as well, I quipped, "it appears that all roads lead to Ausfahrt." It was quickly adopted as a catch phrase during times when we were obviously not heading in the right direction. However, I must give credit where credit is due: our bus driver, Tom, could get that bus into and out of places I never thought a bus could go! We later learned that Ausfahrt means "Exit."

The Grand Adventure

I've just returned from a 10-day trip to Europe. I kept a journal, so I'll begin with our departure and work my way through the trip day by day.

Day One: Thursday, June 21st

We met at the airport at 8am for a noon flight to Atlanta and then on to Munich. It was a fairly uneventful domestic flight -- but as we boarded the plane, our director's husband (our tenor section leader) found that he had forgotten his music. Frantically, he called his daughter and asked her to FedEx it to him. Once on the ground in Atlanta, he called her back and learned that it would cost $90 to send the music and that there was no guarantee it would reach us in time for the first concert in Salzburg. I suppose it's a good thing that our flight out of Atlanta was delayed, because it gave our director an opportunity to have all of the scores copied for her adoring ADD hubby.

Upon arrival in Munich, we were greeted by our tour guides, Iain and Peter. I was assigned to the "B" bus with Peter at the helm. Our contingent consisted mostly singers and their spouses, our director, her husband and son. Much to our amazement and chagrin, we were immediately whisked away for a day of sightseeing -- even though it was 2am our time. We headed for Salzburg, where we visited Herrenchiemsee Castle. The castle is on an island and is accessible only by ferry. It was a perfect day, the grounds were beautiful and we thoroughly enjoyed our visit. As we were awaiting a return ferry, suddenly the skies turned dark, the wind whipped up and the sky opened. We ran for a covered walkway and stared in amazement as hail the size of jaw-breakers fell from the sky and covered the landscape. Several in our group were caught out in this meteorological anomaly and we all arrived at the ferry drenched to the skin. From there, we boarded the buses and went off to the Hotel Mercure, Salzburg.

After a quick change of clothes, we headed off to dinner. On the way there, Peter informed us that there would be a bit of a walk, as the bus couldn't get to the restaurant directly. (This, we were soon to learn, would be a recurring theme). We set off on foot, on cobblestone streets, after being up for over 24 hours and we walked... and we walked... and we walked... finally arriving at the restaurant well after the "A" bus! Seems there was a shorter route than the one we took -- however, we were fortunate to see a wonderful cemetery after which the cemetery in Sound of Music was fashioned. Later, our guide admitted that he'd been lost!

The restaurant, Stiftskeller St. Peter, was lovely. Our waiter was fabulous, as was the meal and company. My parents and I shared the evening meal with a lovely couple -- a retired Air Force musician and his wife, who is an artist and jewelry designer. Upon our return to the hotel, we all fell into bed, exhausted! Did you know that hotels in Europe generally aren't air conditioned? I didn't!

(Stay tuned for the next installment: Salzburg, Day 2)