[EUROBOUT CONTINENTAL CAROUSEL - 1984] DAY 4

Travel Notes
August 14, 1984 - Day 14
GERMANY - SWITZERLAND

Mannheim - Triberg, Germany

We arrived at Triberg for lunch and shopping, right in the middle of the Black Forest.  With all the local restaurants crowded, Ma and I headed for nearest grocery store and loaded up on fresh fruit, ice cream and cookies.  All of this made for a fine meal eaten al fresco, with the scent of the pines heavy on the occasional breeze.

Scored an interesting victory at the souvenir shop, where Ma got a certified Black Forest clock, I got a teddy bear for DM12.  Teddy was supposed to cost DM12.25 with the “Tour Director” discount, but I only had DM12.22 to hand.  I guess it must have been something in my face when I offered to put back the bear, because all of a sudden the saleslady took off the .22!  This produced smiles all around, and I have come up with Teddy's full name : Earl Edward Martin von Schaffhausen-Schwennigen!

This grand list of names for such a tiny creature comes about in this manner:
== “Earl“ - after the tour manager : without discount, Teddy's list price was DM13++
== “Edward“ - full Christian name of “Teddy“
== “Martin“ - for Martin Nievera
== “Schaffhausen“ - the first town after Triberg
== “Schwennigen“ - a place that we've seen on every Banhof sign from the start of the Black Forest boundary, but that we've not seen so far

So.  I have a mascot!

Lucerne, Switzerland - Hotel Alpina

We had a photo stop at the Rhine Falls, located near Schaffhausen.  Spectacular views, and there was actually a stairs for people who wanted to get up close and personal with the rushing waters.  Unfortunately, there was no time for any of us to try it out, so after taking pictures and having our oohs and aahs lost in the roar of the water, we set off for Lucerne, with a brief nod to Zurich along the way.

We arrived in Lucerne after banking hours, and since Feast of the Assumption is a bank holiday (fancy that, it's just an ordinary day in Manila), we changed money at the Banhof station.  Then Earl took us on a walking tour of Lucerne (or Luzern, as the locals spell it).  I managed to have quite a nice chat with Earl as we crossed the famous covered bridge, the Kappellbrucke, over Lake Lucerne; he moved us down various side streets and we then ended at the Bucherer store, which would be staying open till midnight.  Many women were mightily pleased at this information - you could see people calculating budgets in their heads.

Ma and I headed straight for the top floor and Ma got herself a watch; I was too busy enjoying the sight of the merchandise to think about getting anything for myself.  Eventually, Ma, Truding and Josefina wanted to leave before the rest of the group, so Bart deputised me as assistant guide back to the hotel.  Not that it was going to be a complicated matter.  The directions were easy enough to follow, all straight lines for the most part - straight down the bridge, down two corners, turn left, straight down the street, and there you go.

This hotel has *small* elevator : maximum of four people!!  Probably one of the smallest on tour to date.  One thing about traveling in Europe, you never know what the hotels will offer from one destination to the next!

[EUROBOUT CONTINENTAL CAROUSEL - 1984] DAY 3

Travel Notes
August 13, 1984 - Day 13
HOLLAND - GERMANY

Amsterdam, Holland - Euromotel E.9

An early wake-up call found many of the group members gathered in the lounge to watch the closing ceremonies of the Olympics, which was an impressive sight.  Some of the group had gone in to breakfast early, and tried to smuggle out some makeshift sandwiches, however these “smugglers“ were caught and had to eat what they had wrapped as penance.  Ma and I managed to get away with the same tactic, having arrived after this mass movement to convert the buffet into take-away: two slices of ham into a croissant, the whole bundled into my overcoat pocket (not without pangs of guilt, mind you).

Earl mentioned at the foyer and on the bus that we weren't to think that today's breakfast was the real Continental service, and that we'd actually been spoilt by the hotel by the variety of foods available at the buffet.

Amsterdam, Holland - Cologne, Germany

There was a great deal of good-natured banter all the way to Cologne about who came in late from the red-light district last night; everyone knows everyone else's name now.  When Earl brought up the subject of the optional Rhine cruise, he met with universal agreement from the group.

At the border stop, we were let out to change money and use the washrooms.  Since the comfort room for the ladies was crowded, the OIC (an ex-prison matron, for sure) sent some of the women into the *men's* room!  As is the custom in Europe, we had to pay a nominal fee for the use of the washrooms.  I guess this is for the upkeep and augments the salary of the “Madame”.  Back in Brussels, though, we women used the tactic of one coin, taking turns keeping the door open upon exiting from the stall, while the “Madame” was occupied elsewhere.

We pulled into Cologne with strict instructions about getting back to the bus within two hours, so that we could catch the 1330H Rhine River cruise.  That meant very little time to check out the cathedral and have lunch.  The cathedral, we were told, was very nearly the only structure left standing after the carpet-bombings of World War II.  The Allied pilots were under strict orders to spare the church and its beautiful twin spires - such an obvious landmark!

Ma and I literally nipped into the Cathedral and kept to the main aisle.  One quick look at the vaulted ceiling and the stained glass windows; then out to the closest place to get a fast meal - the local McDonald's!  I practiced my basic German with modest success, and we made an al fresco meal of it, watching all the people go by. Then, after bolting down our meal and a quick trip to the washrooms, we got ourselves back on the bus.

Unfortunately, this is where it was discovered that two of our Taiwanese girls were missing.  When Diana and Francy didn't show up after more than 15 minutes, everyone on the bus started worrying about where they could have gone.  We were not to know until later that Diana decided she wanted a panoramic view of Cologne, so she climbed up the cathedral spire (!!) to get it, dragging unwilling Francy along with her for company.  On their way down, Diana got totally disoriented and couldn't find her way back to the bus!

Earl, bless him, was *extremely* calm about the whole situation.  There was no lack of volunteer effort to help him find the lost ones; Frank, Basil, Joe and Keith offered their services to help search the square, rightly reasoning that there would be better progress with more of them involved in the search.  Earl went off with Basil while Bart took the rest of us, round the block in the bus.  After completing one full circuit, Earl arrived with Diana and Francy, who was weeping in embarrassment as the bus heaved a collective sigh of relief and clucked in disapproval, There were cooing sounds of consolation for Francy, profuse with apologies from underneath her overcoat; while Diana could hardly say a word and thus got hardly any sympathy at all on the way down to the Rhine.

Rhine River Cruise - St. Goar - Koblenz

Naturally, we missed the first boat. We did manage to get on the 1500H boat, thanks to providence and some persuasiveness from Earl's end.  After all the excitement, it was a lovely afternoon on the river.  My favorite spot, strangely enough, was not the Lorelei Rock.  It was the little church that actually had a working pub attached to it - one presumes that after the good dominee gave thundering sermons, the men would then sink into contemplation over their steins of lager beer.

Earl spent most of the cruise solacing himself with a bottle of delicious Rhine wine belowdecks.  Naturally, as tour director, it was supposed to be his quiet time; but everyone took turns helping him unwind, and it wasn't long before his soft chuckles filled the room as folks commended him on his calm way of handling things.

We disembarked at St. Goar, re-boarded the bus to follow the Rhine banks past Koblenz, which is German for “confluence“.  It's the point where the Rhine and Moselle Rivers meet, and just a little distance from Mannheim, where we would be spending the night.

Mannheim, Germany - Novotel

Earl had us on the lookout for the hotel, and no sooner had the words left his mouth when Bart turned into the driveway.  Basil, Joe and I took a little time to thank Bart for playing “Hooked on Classics“ on the drive down to Mannheim - one of my personal favorites in music.  This was the point where Bart managed to mellow out enough to mingle and crack a few jokes before we were called in to dinner.

Dinner : chicken, again!  But served hot and with generous sidings, so not a disappointment after a long day.

For the record, this hotel serves *humungous* dessert cups!  At least a quarter-kilo of ice-cream in each cup - no, *bowl* is more like it - and that doesn't even include the syrup and barquillos.  Shirley, Evelyn, Ma and I watched the waitress go by with TWO, and burst into giggles as our eyes met; we had seen the generously-built German man who had ordered one, and marvelled at his capacity.  Serious thought was given to buying one and sharing, but the suspected calorie count was formidable, so we discarded that notion.

[EUROBOUT CONTINENTAL CAROUSEL - 1984] DAY 2

Travel Notes
August 12, 1984 - Day 12
BELGIUM - HOLLAND/NETHERLANDS

Brussels, Belgium - Hotel Bedford

I had called Dad to let him know that we were on the Continent, and I had just hung up from reassuring him we were okay when I heard a *thump* in the bathroom, and the sound of someone moaning. Dashing into the bathroom, I discovered that Ma began the day by slipping in the bathtub and knocking her chin on its edge! @__@

It was nothing serious, fortunately, just a huge scare for both of us. It was my first encounter with different shower controls : shower here is nothing like the Royal National. Apparently Ma had been trying to adjust controls when she slipped. Her hip was a little sore, but we managed to make it to breakfast and on the bus in good time.

Brussels, Belgium - Amsterdam, Holland

It was an uneventful drive through the countryside, not looking at its best under cloudy skies and showers. Saw my first windmills after we crossed the Dutch border, and went through the center of town until we stopped at Coster Diamonds in Amsterdam. Here, we were bidden down from the coach, and literally locked into the display room, where learned about the different grades of diamonds. I was teased that my eyes had the same sparkle as Top Wesselton stones - I maintain that once you have seen the sparkle of real diamonds, you cannot be satisfied with anything less. And while size matters, a small, fiery stone trumps a large, dull stone any day.

Coster Diamonds nearly the twin of the London Diamond Centre, and was the company charged with the cleaving of the raw Cullinan diamond into the Cullinan collection, some stones of which are now part of the British Crown Jewels.

Some folks were lucky enough to have the money to buy jewelry; Ma and I had to content ourselves with looking at the displays until we were allowed out of the store.

Amsterdam - Volendam, Holland

From diamonds to fish...we arrived at Volendam in time for lunch, and not a moment too soon, as there were those of us who were *starving*. Earl recommended smoked eel for the adventurous diners; the people who wanted to walk around the town and find their own tables. Otherwise, for the truly hungry, lunch was at Volendam's main hotel, located on the shore of the Ijsselmeer Lake -- a sea lake, apparently!

I remember ordering open-faced sandwiches for Ma and myself, and we discovered that the Dutch serve food generously! What arrived at the table was a literal mountain of bread, salad, and cold cuts per person. That we actually managed to stuff the lot down only proved that we were hollow from the feet up after the long drive.

Afternoon at leisure : Mama and I joined Shirley and Evelyn Ong for a walk past charming cottages and a welcome breath of fresh lakeside air. During this time, we spent leftover loose change so as not to have any extra weight at the border stop. We also got acquainted with Jun Galang and Gene Nocon from San Diego. Quite a groovy pair, those two - and if their humor was somewhat of the racy variety, well. One makes allowances for certain things while travelling.

Amsterdam - Euromotel E.9

We piled into the coach and left Volendam at 5.00PM, returning through the main part of Amsterdam. Earl pointed out Dam Square and the road to the red-light district (and blushed!) while various racy comments circulated around the coach. Basil Jackson (from Trinidad) said it was the hallmark of a British public (read, "private) school education for a young man's face to redden at the mention of such things.

Blushing certainly becomes Earl, I must say. It's rare to find a man as competent/confident as he seems to be, coloring up at the mention of the red-light district, which I am sure he has pointed out any number of times in his career as a tour director.

He warned everyone that breakfast is at 0730H tomorrow, and the bus was scheduled to leave at 0800H promptly, with or without its full complement of passengers, which comment engendered more racy commentary, nudges and winks.

I would have liked to join the group, but the hotel is too far from the city centre to manage a walk back to the hotel by myself. The idea was that the Tour Director would lead the party into the red-light district, and then give directions to catch the public transport back to the hotel upon leading the party out. Not the kind of arrangement that would sit well with Ma, especially that everyone else was practically strangers. So, no red-light district.

However, hotel is right next to the river Amstel, and there's a good breeze blowing in : will have a slow walk after dinner instead, and enjoy the view of the river traffic till it's time to get back to the room!

[EUROBOUT CONTINENTAL CAROUSEL - 1984] DAY 1

August 11, 1984 - Day 11
LONDON - FRANCE - BELGIUM

London - Ramsgate - Dunkirk, France : en route

One of the trivia bits I read in some magazine said that the phone number of the Buckingham Palace switchboard was actually listed in the phone book! So, just to verify with my own eyes that it was so, I opened up the phone book on the dresser table and there it was! I took it down in my travel journal notebook, and then set about the process of checking out of our Royal National home.

We left a bag with various assorted London purchases at the concierge's desk, for pick up upon our arrival at the end of the tour. The first people we made acquaintance with were the Fil-Ams from San Diego. Gene N. stuck these San Diego carnation stickers on Ma and I, and introduced us to his group. Jun G. was hoping to find a power pack for his video camera, which was running low on battery power. Nice folk, if a bit full of the bonhomie.

We were scheduled to arrive in Brussels via Dunkirk, on the Channel ferry from Ramsgate. The bus going to Ramsgate had one of the worst PA systems imaginable, and our poor Tour Manager had troubles unending trying to get his voice to be heard through to the back of the bus.

The route from London went through the lovely countryside of Kent, which made up for the noise and general commotion in the bus. We got ourselves loaded onto the ferry with very little fuss, and ended up sitting with Jun and his wife Carmen, more or less. That's because it was a somewhat choppy ride, and I was starting to feel queasy until I learned it was better to walk around on deck instead of sit and watch the dipping of the horizon outside the windows.

I would have gone topside, but then I learned that there were on board slot machines and duty-free shopping. I changed over our leftover pounds into dollars, which were endorsed to Ma. With the 60p left in my hand, I went over to the slot machines, where I won a two-pound jackpot that was spent on a t-shirt and cologne.

When we arrived at Dunkirk, there was no one manning the customs/immigration desks, so Ma and I sailed on through. This, I discovered, entitles us to one extra entry into France, which will come in handy, as the travel agency has only given us a double-entry visa instead of a multiple-entry one. We are fortunate!

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Dunkirk, France - Brussels, Belgium

The bus into which we were bundled for the Continental portion of our tour had a good PA system. Light-years away from the other bus, which is a mercy for our Tour Manager. We were finally able to decipher that his name is Earl Younger - an *extremely* good-looking person, he is — most definitely spoken for. After taking care of the "administrative details", he showed that he knows how to take a catnap on the bus; he put his fee up on his briefcase, and was off like a light!

It was raining by the time we arrived at Belgian border, giving me thoughts of espionage movies and border crossings. We had a driver substitution, as Martin's back problems had flared up. He was replaced by Bart Wildenbergh, who will be with us until we get back to Dunkirk again. The rain softened to a slow misting throughout our 2.5 hour drive from the border to the city of Brussels, and it was under overcast skies that I had my first view of the city.

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Brussels : Hotel Bedford

Bart guided the bus down old cobblestone streets to the front of the hotel, where Earl checked us in and distributed our room keys so we could freshen up before our walking tour to the Grand Place. After gathering us in the lobby, Earl set off on a route that passed at least half a dozen lace shops on the way, filled with examples of the world-famous Flemish lace. Our last stop was at the Manniken Pis statue (the little boy who peed to put out a beginning fire at the city wall and thus saved the city), and from there, Earl said we could make our own way back to the hotel.

Taking our time, we walked towards the Grand Place, and found a mysterious plaque on the wall of a shop or pub just off the main square, on the lower corner, leading to the street of the Manniken Pis. It showed a reclining man embossed into the brass, with a Latin inscription at the bottom of the plaque indicating a patriot or martyr. We noticed that people passing by would pass their hands over it as if it were a religious icon -- the plaque is very well-rubbed, almost hard to see figure, and the inscription is blurred as well.

In the middle of the Grand Place, a stage was set up for a presentation of modern ballet, and a friendly policeman told us the show began at nine p.m. What a great pity we had to leave the city early the next morning, it would have been nice to see an open-air performance. Instead, I thanked the policeman in halting French and got him to smile and answer back -- in French, as well!

[LONDON LIGHTS 1984] DAY 10

August 10, 1984 - Day 10

Today is the actual start date of the Eurobout tour, according to the brochure. Like all tours, it's basically a free day for the rest of the tour members to check-in at the hotel. Since we decided to fly in a week early (!!) to give allowance for jet lag and exploring London, this we're amply rested and ready for the tour to start.

Nigel had made arrangements to meet us at the Leytonstone Tube station for a drive through the English countryside. I had to consult the handy Tube map that had been my constant companion since we started using it. Discovered that Leytonstone Station is on the Central Line of the London Underground, on the boundary of Zones 3 and 4. OK, no problem about that, and Nigel was waiting with a smile on the platform when we arrived.

He handed Ma and I into the car and soon we were heading out to Essex, to the town of Chipping Ongar. It's the home of St. Andrew's Church, Greensted-juxta-Ongar. Historical notes say that recent analysis of the wooded plank walls which indicate that they date from around 1063 AD (rather than the 845 AD date given by an earlier test). It is still acknowledged as the oldest wooden stave built church in the world. In all probability, it was built by Homo Dapifer, the new Norman lord of the manor recorded in the Doomsday Book.

It's a tiny little church, a simple place, with wood darkened by age and the feeling of several generations of worship gathered in a single place. It gives a sense of spiritual comfort, and I found myself saying a prayer for a safe journey and for good things to happen to Nigel for being so nice to someone he'd only just met.

Our next stop was Finchfield, for lunch a short walk. Finchfield is a small residential district in Wolverhampton. It's a lovely place, with shady walks and houses that seem to have been planted there for a very long time. The air was brisk and good for the appetite — I managed to demolish a huge steak and kidney pie!

We popped into the car again, and along the road, Ma and I were admiring the rolling green fields of the countryside, marvelling how fresh everything looked. There were cows in some fields, and then Nigel pulled over at one point, and led us out to meet some horses standing by a roadside fence! They were lovely animals, both brown, and taller than I was — their heads came up to Nigel's shoulders. They seemed happy to see us, and could hear the pleasure in our voices as we said hello, and the one nearest me bent down to snuffle my pockets for sugar or carrots or an apple. Pity I didn't have any on hand, but the horse let me pet it anyway.

Our last stop of the day was Castle Hedingham, dating back to the Norman Conquest. It was primarily a garrison rather than a residence, and is 110 feet high. Built c.1140 by Aubrey de Vere, it is still owned by one of his descendants, The Honourable Thomas Lindsay and his wife Virginia. There are four floors to explore, including a magnificent Banqueting Hall spanned by a remarkable 28 foot arch, one of the largest Norman arches in England. A good view of this splendid room can be obtained from the Minstrels' Gallery, built within the thickness of the 12 foot walls.

What a pity that the place was closed, I would have enjoyed exploring about inside an honest to goodness castle keep. (Just think of the stories I could have spun from that visit!) Still, we had a lovely time strolling about the grounds before Nigel drove us back to Leytonstone to catch the Tube for London.

It was a lovely day, and we got back early to get our bags organized. We'll have to be leaving some stuff with the concierge when we leave, and pick it up when we get back from the Continent.

Tomorrow the tour gets underway!

EUROBOUT CONTINENTAL CAROUSEL 1984 - PASSENGER LIST

EUROBOUT 808-04 CONTINENTAL CAROUSEL
10 August- 2 September 1984

United States
Frank and Bertha, Angie, Lois

Fil-Americans
Gene and Puring, Truding, Josefina, Jun and Carmen

Taiwan
Francy, Sylvia, Gremy, Diana

Philippines
Shirley and Evelyn, Eduardo, Cora and Cindy, Teodoro and Thelma

Trinidad and Tobago
Basil and Rita, Yolande, Betty Ann, Choy Lee

Jamaica
Keith and Sonia

India
Joe and Maria


Eurobout Staff
Keith Totilo - owner/manager
Earl Younger - Tour Manager

Drivers
Martin - Dunkirk to Belgian border
Bart Wildenbergh - Belgian Border, across the Continent, back to Dunkirk

City Guides
Vienna : Christina (city tour) and Uwe (Vienna Woods and Illuminations)
Rome : Gabriella
Venice : Paolo
Barcelona : Nuria
Paris : Christine Vignot

[LONDON LIGHTS 1984] DAY 9

August 8, 1984

Today on our "must-see" list was Harrods, which, according to all the heraldic devices on its store frontage, is official purveyor to Her Majesty the Queen Mother, Her Majesty the Queen, HRH the Duke of Edinburgh, and HRH the Prince of Wales. Mercy on us, but it is a bastion of the aristocracy, rather like Rustan's back home. Only of course, Harrod's dates back quite a few years before Rustan's...you can almost feel the spirits of ancient shoppers checking you out.

Armed with our new-found knowledge of the Tube, we hopped on it at Russell Square station and landed in Knightsbridge in no time. We popped out of the station and took a good look around us to orient ourselves, and then, like pilgrims entering a shrine, popped ourselves inside.

It's a lovely place. Never mind that one feels like a country bumpkin for never having been there before — it is a lovely place. Exclusive merchandise everywhere, the sales personnel keep an eye on you without making you feel like they think you'll run off with the display items; neither do they hover about you like circling vultures. I felt my jaw drop inside the Wedgewood section, which wasn't so bad after being afraid to breathe through the entire lead crystal display. Gawds! Ma and I picked up two Wedgewood saucers as souvenirs. One is pink and one is blue, and both of them have those Grecian cameo figures.

We returned by Tube to the hotel for an afternoon nap, in preparation for our first theatre showing. At three p.m., we presented (or rather, rushed) ourselves past the doorman of the Garrick Theatre, and were shown to marvelous seats for the matinee of No Sex, Please...We're British. Apparently, this is the world's longest running comedy, about a bank manager's wife who thinks she's being hired to distribute Swedish crystal.

Unfortunately, the crystal is actually a shipment of X-rated movies, and the disposal of the blue films is what drives the play. It doesn't help matters that the bank manager is trying to ingratiate himself with his boss, who has consented to have dinner at his subordinate's house, as a sign of grace and favor, if you will.

I couldn't stop laughing. It was good thing everyone around me was laughing as well — the dialogue was sharp and witty, full of wordplays and double-entendres. The acting was marvelous! Some of the facial expressions were priceless. Two marvelous hours of fine acting by a wonderful cast, and I begin to understand why there are those who consider the theatre the only venue for actors who wish to be called actors in the truest sense of the world.

Back to the hotel for an early dinner and a last minute check of our things. Tomorrow is the start of our tour!