A Formula for Travel

We have called so many places "home" recently that our transition back to reality has been a tough one for me. As we had hoped, we've learned much through our travels, but not just in the standard "I saw the Berlin Wall" way, as I anticipated that we would.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm probably one of the top subscribing customers for Long Daily To-Do Lists. Me and work are like an odd pair of Siamese twins that the miracle docs can't seem to separate. Let me also go ahead and confess to preferring a speed that is six levels beyond 'high' for my days. While we are at it, I may as well toss out my liking for short nights of sleep. Six hours is more than a full night of sleep; I can hold my own with 2-3 hours of rest. If you want to pull up and chair and get some coffee (which would be my breakfast - I don't do 3 meals a day), I'll fill you in on my natural born talent for multi-tasking. I could go on but I'm very "busy"...

A wise man once told me to "be present" and I wondered how difficult that could really be (Duh. I'm here.) But I saw its true definition come to life in more ways than one while we were in Europe and realized that he wasn't kidding and there might be a little more to it than I thought.

I volunteered to give my multi-tasking license up while out of the country and it was a good thing I did... The whole multi-tasking thing doesn't really happen there. People don't talk on cell phones while sitting with their friends or with you. They are with YOU; being present. The low hum similar to that of crickets that we have at home from people texting is absent; people don't text while they are with you. They are with YOU; being present.

Let's go ahead and get a little more complex and talk about the speed of life. Mealtime is relaxing and enjoyable. When the tables in a restaurant are full, they don't make a wait list or give out vibrating beepers, they tell incoming folks that they are full and they tend to you. Meals easily last over an hour and often up to two - even in the small pizzerias. You're never given a bill; you have to ask for one. Why rush? We had to learn how to request our ticket in German, Italian, and French because never once was it given to us. You want to know a little something about the roads? I've never seen crazier drivers, higher speeds, smaller streets, curvier corners, worse GPSs, and more cobblestone in my life. Despite THAT recipe for disaster, we never heard more than a quick "ready or not here I come" honk. It wasn't greeted with a response, be it a one-handed gesture, an earful of words, or a bigger, badder, longer honk. I mean, really, what's there to get worked up over?

As soon as we stepped into the States, I tucked the warm "welcome home" that was spoken to us by customs into my left brain and went on to get our bags checked. TSA was running the show like a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory production line and apparently our bags needed to be checked immediately. Yup, move it or lose it, sister. NOW. The firm directions that they gave must be a lifesaver for some folks needing to catch a plane as they kept the beat of a brand new pacemaker. Next! Next! Next! It's funny, but they didn't seem concerned with the fact that I was in the mood to be spoken to slowly, quietly, and preferably in a foreign language. Go figure. I heard Jaden sneeze and say "I hope I'm not allergic to America". I figured he didn't need to know where he likely got it from. As my Granny would say, "Not me, because I've still got all mine!".

It has been almost exactly 3 days since we walked in our front door. Tonight, Luke is tucked in at the fire station (or out saving kittens), the kids are nestled in their beds (while J's scarves from Paris are hanging in her closet and Beau's entire European military collection is diligently stashed in his room awaiting sunrise), there is a big, brand new jar of Nutella in our cupboard (European breakfast standard), and I've got a newly assembled bed to climb into that feels like those we've slept in for the past 6 weeks (double down comforters - except ours has an extra 16 pillows). I see pieces of our trip everywhere in our house as we continue to unpack and I can't help but smile - and sometimes cry. I sent my first text to Luke today and in the process, I saw the last text text I had received from him, which was in Italy... "On my way back to Pistoia..." he wrote. Do you remember that torturous day for Luke in Tuscany past the Italian holiday, with no rental cars, and GPS Voldemort's birth? Ahhhh, sweet memories.

As much as I hate for this to end, there's only one way to go from here, which is forward. More to see, more to do, more to learn and another several dozen places to call home. See you soon.

Until then, much love from somewhere under a lovely indigo sky full of stars and half a shiny moon in the Rockies

We spent a nice chunk of time laying in the sun on the grass at the base of the Eiffel Tower yesterday and went back through our trip, recalling highlights, thinking about all of the history we've been able to touch with our own hands, the different beds we've slept in, the foods we've eaten, the cars and crazy roads we've driven to see the land, and the people we've met. Our blog trip map says that we have travelled 3000 plus miles via train. I have no idea what we've driven via car in addition and can't begin to imagine what we've walked.

We did a lengthy video interview with the kids, but here is the abridged version on THIS particular 'Formula for Travel':

Favorite big city: Berlin, Rome
Favorite little city: Mürren, Switzerland; Rothenburg ob der Tauber, Germany
Favorite country: Switzerland, Germany
Strangest food: Rabbit, raw mackerel
Worst food: Sea urchin
Best food by country: Germany
New favorite foods: currywurst, gnocchi, rösti
Favorite gelato flavor: lemon (Luke); stracciatella (Jaden); chocolate (Justice); coffee (mine)
Specialty / Drink of Choice: Justice (Coke); Jaden (Fanta); France (cappuccinos); Germany / Austria / Switzerland (beer); Italy (wine)
Worst part - A missed train in France that led to a one night delay leaving the country
Learned the most about - World War 2 (Justice); Knights (Jaden)
Choose one: Dishwasher or Washer / Dryer? Washing machine! 
Choose one: Train or Airplane? Train! Hands down! Bigger, more comfortable seats, bigger windows, better scenery and electrical outlets!
What did you miss most from home? Understanding people, friends, family, and Keigan (the dog)
Places to go back to: Normandy, Austria, Switzerland

I'm not sure what the chances are, but the same (very) French gentleman that came to pick us up at the airport happened to be the one that showed up at the hotel at the crack of dawn to take us back. He recognized us and asked if we had enjoyed our holiday and where we were headed. "Texas", Luke told him, as it was our first stop. I was pleased that we were so much more comfortable in our big boy Paris pants now, since we couldn't seem to mumble a word out when we met him. (Side note: Since he was the first French individual that we met, I wanted come up with something in French that Rosetta Stone would be oh-so-proud-of, but he beat me to it). "DALLAS?!" he said. Hmmm? I thought maybe we hadn't gotten that far on Rosetta yet, but he went on and said "J.R.?" Yeah, you got it, we shared John Ross Ewing, Jr. from the lead character Dallas and what a moment it was. He loved it and we laughed. At the airport, he said his goodbyes with his best English, as we gave back our best French. Ewing, here we come.

I don't think it could have been avoided. Any way you sliced it - the tears were bound to fall at dinner. Our newfound friend Robert seated us at our regularly reserved table in the cozy corner of the restaurant on the first floor of our hotel, looking out toward the Alps. He lit the candles and teased the kids as they accidentally thanked him in Italian and he gave them their "you're welcome" in German (one of his 7 languages). They laughed, shook, their heads, and quickly tossed a "danke!!" (German thank you) back at him. He brought a hearty mug of beer for Luke and a cappuccino for me.

It started with Justice. She tried her best to put on a brave smile and browse her menu, but it was too late. Her eyes were wet. Jaden took one look at her and his eyes welled up quickly with tears too. This is it. Six weeks and it's almost over. Our last meal in Switzerland and nobody wanted to leave. If they hadn't started the tears, I would have been able to hold it together a bit longer, but I had felt the overwhelming emotions all day. It was only a matter of time for me. Luke threatened us all, telling us that if we didn't stop, he and Robert (bartender/waiter) would probably start too. We have found a sense of home here similar to that in Austria.

Our experiences here have been unique and memorable - scenery and people alike. How about this accidental run-in with a waterfall... Picture the Grand Canyon standing on end. You know how year after year the water cuts deeper into the ground? This has run a similar pattern, only vertically. The water is 2 degrees above freezing and comes raging down the mountain at 20,000 gallons per second draining from three glaciers. Over time, it has cut deeper into the mountain, forming a crevasse. An elevator shaft and man-made cavern have been carved deep into the mountain, allowing the grayish-white glacier water to be viewed in 10 different places as it comes barreling down the mountain.

Travel here meets the Crayola standards for colorful. There are greens everywhere - 'Forest Green', 'Lime Green', and Granny Smith Green'. The sky comes in various shades of Crayola's blues, all of which I'm convinced originated from 'Indigo' and are mixed with the 'White' used to frost the Alps and make the clouds. There is a dusting of copper that can be seen in the evening, reflecting off the snow as the sun sets its final light on the mountain. It's picturesque. I'm certain that I've got at least 600 photos from here alone as a reminder. I suppose the pictures will have to hold us for now. We have bags to pack and a plane to catch. There's more of the world yet to see, but we'll put this one on the "do again and do longer" list.

The Sound of Music continues to play in my head as I prepare to drift off to sleep...

"Raindrops from waterfalls and Swiss Alps with white snow,
Cows all have cowbells and I just don't wanna go,
The food and the Alps and the trains make me sing;
These are a few of my fav-oh-riiiite things..."

For as long as I can remember, there was a man in my life that I called Papa. He had the brightest blue eyes you've ever seen and I liked to look at them because they looked like my mom's and my own. He usually smelled like grease, gasoline, oil, or coal. He was always dirty and always working. His hands were big and worn, but he never failed to put them around me and pull me in his lap so he could check the size of my calf muscles - even in high school. I could count on him being in the bleachers of my basketball games, alongside the field during track season, somewhere along the course in cross country, and I can't even imagine how many ballet recitals he sat through. The 4 hour drive was nothing for he and my Granny. He had wild stories to tell from his younger days, though he didn't often share them. He traveled around the world many times, living and learning amongst the people. He was in Pearl Harbor during World War 2. The bearskin rug at my parents' house came from the bear he had to kill after falling into its den and coming face to face with it on the way home one night. He always told me there was nothing more important than my education (travel included). He had to quit school after 6th grade. His dad, Papa Tony Bear, was out burying alcohol in the hillside (moonshine!) when they came across coal and started Bear Coal Company. He took up the coal miner's life at the young age of 12. You can still go to Paonia, Colorado and find mines running and see my Great Papa Tony Bear's picture painted on a mural in town. We lost my Papa in a car accident almost 14 years ago. The memories remain and every now and again the opportunity arises to add to them...

My Great Papa Tony Bear came to America from Yugoslavia and my Great Grandma Bear came over from Italy. We took a look at the map and determined that the small village my Great Grandmother (and both her parents) are from sits right near the border of Switzerland and Italy. We pulled together the information available in our family which is, "a 'Badina' woman married a 'Marta' man in the town of Calasca-Castiglione, Italy and the couple created my Great Grandma Bear. We headed 4 hours over the Alps into Italy with a camera to see what we could find in the village.

Calasca-Castiglione is made up of a handful of houses, scattered along a steep green hillside. There were two restaurants and we stopped at the first that was open to see if we were in the right place. A young gal and her mom, an older lady, were both working. There was not another soul in sight. I asked if they spoke English; Grandma spoke none and the young lady spoke a tiny bit. I held up my hands as if to ask 'where is' and said "Badina?", "Marta?"... They looked at me, kind of puzzled, and pulled out a phone book. They said "many, many, Martas and Badinis!" and went to each section, where there were 6 names listed under each. My eyes were overflowing with tears before I could speak. They looked at me, probably wondering if I was crazy. Who cries at a phone book? I managed to pull together some sort of English / Italian combo to say "my papa's, mama - MY family". That's all it took. Their faces lit up and they said, "Ahhh, FAMILIA! FAMILIA!" and beamed as they made the connection that I've got some sort of family here.

They sent us away to explore with the two pages from the phone book and a feeling of contentedness. Family. How amazing to come halfway around the world and find pieces of my own history.

We walked down to the church by the river and there were several apples resting in the overgrown grass. I picked one up and smiled as I rolled it around in the palm of my hand, thinking back to the days that we used to climb the ladder and pick apples from my Papa's orchards. I kissed it and tossed it into the river below, counting my blessings for the family that I come from and the family that I've got.

"Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens; bright copper kettles, warm woolen mittens; brown paper packages, tied up with string; these are a few of my fav-oh--riiite things."

If I could get access to an open field here in Switzerland, you'd find me out with the cows, dancing and singing melodies from the Sound of Music while their cowbells jingled in perfect harmony with the wind. There would be a brilliant glow of white radiating off the Alps which would be keeping me warm, despite the chilly weather. My brother told us about Switzerland and the feelings described above. He wasn't kidding. I had no idea it would be as enchanting here as it is. Luke has caught me several times with my jaw dropped and head back just gawking as I stare in awe at these mountains. I'm a mountain girl; that's where I come from. Nonetheless, for travels, I love the beach and would choose 'tropical' any day of the week. I'm not quite sure what happened here. Switzerland is rearranging things.

It took us forever to figure out where to stay in this country and after searching every possible house in Lucerne and Bern, we tossed both cities and went for something completely different. After a long night on the internet, we found what appeared to be a hidden gem: Mürren, Switzerland. We took the train into Bern, got a car and drove a little over an hour to get here. This mountain village has a population of about 450 people and isn't accessible by public road. To go back and forth into Mürren, we leave our car in the village below and take a gondola part of the way up the mountain and then switch to a small two car train to get the rest of the way up into Mürren. We stop at somewhere around 5,400 feet and walk right out from the tiny train depot to our bed and breakfast. Everything in Mürren answers to the Alps. They are out the windows, they line the streets, they are the first thing you look for in the morning and an amazing photo that I can't stop taking at night (red dusk on the white snow). They are unbelievable with a clear blue background and mysterious with clouds sulking around their tips.

Cheers to Swiss cheese, Swiss chocolate, and more Swiss army knives than I've ever seen. It's time to go do some exploring and see what this country has to offer. We should have ended on a horrible country so that it would be much easier to leave.

Dear Family and Friends,
We are hiking in the Alps. We might get eaten (or taken capture) by the Abominable Snow Monster. Fortunately, we hike well-prepared and had the horcrux with us (which contains the iPad) so we will email as soon as we can with updates. We love you. Do visit us. Ummm, I mean, Switzerland.
Yours truly...