The Sign

Signs are obviously everywhere. In Europe, there is a critical category of sign -- those which identify the nearest toilet, or the loo. (The origination of the term "loo" is quite an entire different and interesting discussion. Really.) And the public latrines are often not equiped to our standards; and often one must pay to use or buy sheets of toilet paper. If such paper is even available.

We do tend to take for granted the availability of rest room facilities in this country. Outside the US, a constant awareness of the nearest available water closet, and its state of cleanliness, can be crucial. Given the sudden change in diet and exposure to new strains of bacteria, which often accompanies foreign travel, such knowledge can save the intrepid traveler from quite the predicament.

Trust me, I know.

Bulgarian Sling Shot

I could not have predicted what I witnessed on my first visit to the Black Sea. This is a former Warsaw Pact country? To the side preconceived notions. Thanks propaganda.

Slanchev Bryag (Sunny Beach) is a resort area just south of Varna, north of Bourgas, on the Black Sea. Bulgaria. It is a natural harbor area where Roman Legionaries retired after their 20-year term of service during the first century AD. History there reaches back in time. Pushes forward. Thracian, Greek, Roman, Byzantine, Ottoman, Bulgarian Renaissance impressions everywhere. Communist influence fleeting, gone. No trace. Anomaly.

Sunny Beach is now a resort with over a hundred hotels. Western Europeans flock there due to the excellent climate and holiday environment. It is also very inexpensive.

So I'll start here. A giant sling shot. Also known as a reverse bungee. I watched countless tourists pay to get strapped in and catapulted into the sky. Unsuspecting. The removal of shoes, jewelry, the emptying of pockets should have been preparatory clues. Launch and blood curdling screams. Were they not paying attention? I was. The horror. The amusement.

Paratus

One anecdote which exemplifies ancient Roman wisdom is the advice that "victory likes careful preparation" -- paratus, to be exact. Paratus for travel shares this wisdom, if only as "an enjoyable holiday likes careful preparation".

I recently crossed paths with a Austrian-German couple about to embark on a 5-week bicycle tour of the Danube River -- from a location near its source, all the way to the Black Sea. I was amazed by how carefully they had planned and prepared for their trip, with the anticipation of encountering weather's impact on their progress, as well as finding reasonable accommodations for any given day. One couple, two bikes, and airline tickets to return from Bucharest. Every day an adventure, with a new set of opportunities to explore and problems to solve.

 

As I am preparing for another European excursion, I'm newly inspired to take a different cultural approach to travel. We Americans tend to travel differently, unafraid to cast about an excess of funds for assured amenities and convenience. And we tend to drag along robust baggage trains with a variety of accoutrement -- we take "home" along with us.

 

This time, inspired by today's economic climate and my European friends, it's me and my backpack.

Rome's Pantheon

For me, it was not easy to realize the Pantheon is the oldest standing domed structure in Rome. It is in remarkably good shape for its age -- the original structure is over 2000 years old -- and it remains the largest un-reinforced concrete dome in the world. The credit goes to Roman architects and engineers and their expert use of concrete coffering.

The Pantheon's coffers, employed to lighten the weight of the dome, were poured in molds prior to being set in place; the oculus further reduces the structure's weight and admits the building's only light. The oculus also cools and ventilates the Pantheon. As one stands inside and admires the dome, it is natural to ponder the effects of bad weather. The Pantheon’s builders anticipated this phenomenon -- a drainage system below the floor handles any intruding rainfall.

Built in 31 BC during the reign of Augustus, it originally was a temple dedicated to all the gods of Ancient Rome (hence the name pantheon). It was restored in the second century AD after being completely destroyed by fire in 80 AD. The building's consecration as a Roman Catholic church in the 7th century certainly saved it from the abandonment, destruction and decay which befell the majority of ancient Rome's buildings during the Middle Ages.

Fortunately, the marble interior and the great bronze doors have survived. Sadly, as is common with ancient structures, most of the external marble was removed over the centuries. The bronze ceiling of the portico disappeared. The sunken coffers may have contained some form of bronze ornamentation. There are even capitals from the Pantheon in the British Museum. Carried away, now held hostage.

It is interesting how our mental images of the past are influenced by modern observation of an ancient structure’s skeletal remains. Some of these sites have elements which survive apart, scattered in various museums and private collections throughout the world. Can we not return surviving antiquities to their places of origin, restore at least a part of their long lost splendor? How does one undo events in the past which we would not allow today? History cannot be undone one way or another, even if rewritten. Still, the present does offer the opportunity to address such situations.

Most discussions ultimately are about time, solutions never seriously broached. Certainly this is one real Pandora's Box -- realized at a nearby café, as hordes of pigeons settle and shift, traffic noise and children's voices echo about, and the march of Prada and Gucci keeps perfect time in the shadow of Imperial Rome. A street performer stops to invade, playing a guitar missing at least one string. Pay and rescue the moment -- please move along and rejoin the parade.

Time for another espresso -- posso avere un espresso, per favore.

Gondolas

Hear gondola, think Venice.

Venice is world famous for its gondolas. Today however, they are mostly used by tourists. Or for ceremonies -- funerals, weddings. Local Venetians prefer to travel by modern ferries along Venice's major canals and between the city's islands. Faster, more convenient.

Venice rests on an archipelago consisting of over 110 islands with 150 canals. All in a shallow lagoon. The islands on which the city is built are connected by hundreds of bridges. In Venice’s centrum, canals serve as roads. One’s choice is to walk via bridge or transit by gondola. Venice is Europe's largest car free urban area. Nice.

Brace yourself for the bad news. Venice has no sewage treatment facilities. Untreated waste is immediately dumped into Venice’s canals. I witnessed first hand. Literally, flush. Floaties, from individual buildings. Romantic. But the tide comes and goes. More flushing, whisking stuff away into coastal waters and points beyond.

I'm walking, thanks. Still worth a visit though. Caution.

Romas

If you travel to Central or Eastern Europe, you're bound to encounter the Romani. Though they are involved in a number of trades, family or clan teams work the streets in tourist areas -- begging, performing, selling.

Romas, or Gypsies, are a nomadic people originally from the Punjab region of India. They entered Europe early on in the Middle Ages, migrating through Persia, Asia Minor, and the Balkans. They were labeled "Gypsies" because Europeans mistakenly thought they were Egyptian. For centuries they've been treated as pariahs, weathering hardship, persecution, and genocide (Holocaust). And they generally appear to live in squalor.

One learns quickly not to reward Roma beggars -- a token given attracts a horde. A nuisance unwilling to leave empty handed. On the other hand, Roma merchandisers are at least amusing. They'll haggle a bit then move on for more peddling -- whether one buys or not. On this particular afternoon in Plovdiv, Bulgaria, our group was approached by two Romas, offering Rado watches for $5. Fakes, of course. Indulge us a bit, please -- $1? Okay, $2.

Mine ran for five minutes and then fell apart the next day.

Expected. Entertained.

Bulgarian Omen

The ancient Romans believed that the eagle was a messenger of the gods -- eagle sightings and behavior were therefore considered omens. At Nessebar, Bulgaria, on the Black Sea, I encountered a similar omen. This one was delivered by a seagull. Good, bad? One of our Bulgarian hosts noted that it was a sign of good luck, mentioning something about his brother's marriage. I took it as strong direction to buy a new shirt.

Bulgarian Rail

I have always had an affinity for travel by rail. Particularly in Europe. It's regular and the schedule is generally robust. Going from one place to another is calculated and there is time to sight see, relax, read. Or whatever. And it is generally inexpensive. Perhaps there is a degree of nostalgia attached. Grand tour. Or blame Hollywood.

The Orient Express.

Unfortunately, the original, running from Paris to Istanbul is long gone. Just imagine the possibilities of such a trip. And with the Channel Tunnel open, one could begin in London, train across to Paris. Eat, shop, see, converse. Then to points east -- Istanbul. Explore, discover. Return. There is a current Orient, but it runs overnight from Strasbourg to Vienna. Only. The original Orient was certainly replaced by more efficient commercial air. That said, the current European rail system is an excellent way to go from one destination to another. Anywhere.

For me, traveling by rail in the former Warsaw Pact had a special appeal. I had ridden the underground rail system in West Berlin which went unencumbered into the Eastern Sector. Miss your stop and you're now in a James Bond movie. Focus. My papers were in order. I got off at my appointed stop, survived. All told, it worked nicely.

Bulgaria was no exception.

These two engines or tanks, from different generations, are sitting in the rail yard at the Plovdiv Depot.

This is the routine Sofia-Plovdiv service, arriving in Plovdiv.

This is the Sofia-Slanchev Bryag (Sunny Beach Resort) Express which transits Plovdiv and Bourgas, preparing to depart the main Sophia Rail Station.

It is a shame that rail service in the United States is not as common or reliable. Or as cheap. Or that our lifestyle does not accommodate such a transportation system.
At what price?

Seville's Holy Week

Witnessing a Spanish festival for the first time is a most unique experience, as most festival elements and events are unfamiliar. Seville's Holy Week -- given the hooded processions of Catholic brotherhoods, Nazarenos -- was no different.

Semana Santa en Sevilla is one of Spain's largest religious events. Conducted during the week between Palm Sunday and Easter, it features daily processions by brotherhoods parading pasos -- floats featuring sculptured scenes of Jesus Christ during distinct phases of his death and resurrection; the other being a float with a grieving Virgin Mary. Many are considered masterful works of art and are housed in nearby churches.

Semana Santa en Sevilla is one of Spain's largest religious events. Conducted during the week between Palm Sunday and Easter, it features daily processions by brotherhoods parading pasos -- floats featuring sculptured scenes of Jesus Christ during distinct phases of his death and resurrection; the other being a float with a grieving Virgin Mary. Many are considered centuries-old masterful works of art and are housed throughout the year in neighborhood churches. Most brotherhoods carry two floats, a few carry three. The processions are organized and conducted by over 50 religious fraternities (some dating back to the 14th century) and the processional itinerary is scheduled by a Supreme Council of Brotherhoods. During the processions, members dressed in hooded penitential robes, precede the pasos, with an occasional brass band accompanying the march. The processions work along the shortest route from their home church to the Cathedral of Seville -- routes decreed since the 17th century by the processions' rule of ordinances. They then return to their points of origin, some taking over 12 hours.

If you're in need of a touring tip, the first part of Seville's Holy Week is not as crowded for procession viewing and is more relaxed. Towards the end of the week as many as a million spectators crowd Seville's streets. The climax of the week is Thursday night when the most popular processions set out to arrive at the cathedral on the dawn of Good Friday.

I still find myself comparing this tradition with some darker elements of America's past -- and the influence and context of signs and symbols, proliferating one's culture. Comparing American and Spanish cultures, the hooded parading participant signifies a very different role and purpose -- penitence not malfeasance. In this case, the shame is on us.

Graffiti, Seville

Ancient Street, Pompeii

Although Pompeii is a ruined and partially buried Roman city, accidentally rediscovered in 1748 and now excavated, there is no doubt its streets are frozen in time -- since 24 August 79 AD. 1900-plus years later, we can contemplate Roman road construction, engineering.

I was initially impressed by the street scape of Pompeii as not being much different than those one may encounter throughout European centrums today -- the stone and cobblestone workmanship of the streets.

The oddity was wheel grooves, an obviously indicator Pompeii's streets were adequately accommodating its robust wheeled traffic. These street were constructed in a way to elevate foot traffic above the road's surface for water runoff, perhaps even sewage. Roman architects and engineers managed water and sewage quite well, though not necessarily in the open, in the streets. There are many examples of drainage pipes beneath the surface, some still operational. Not only is the water distribution system in Pompeii impressive, it reveals a great degree of forethought and urban planning.

Could the strength of the Roman Empire, at least in part, be borne of its engineering prowess?

Unfortunately, as all ancient excavations experience, renewed exposure to the elements hastens deterioration. In tight financial times, seeking funds to protect these sites is a low priority. Thus, the curious observer should visit sooner rather than later.

Spandau Prison

I witnessed Spandau Prison, at the time located in West Berlin, during a helicopter tour of the city in 1986. Rudolf Hess was the lone prisoner and unbeknownst to me or anyone else at the time, he had a year to live -- and the demise of the prison would soon follow as well.

After his death, Spandau Prison was demolished as a means to prevent it from becoming a Neo-Nazi shrine. But the West Germans did not stop there. To further ensure its erasure, the site was made into a parking facility and a shopping center, and all materials from the demolished prison were ground to powder and dispersed into the North Sea.

I'm a bit sad -- it was a magnificent structure, even as a prison. Built in 1876, it initially served as a military detention center and later housed civilian inmates. After the Second World War, it was administered by the Allies to house Nazi war criminals after the Nuremberg Trials -- the seven which had escaped the death penalty.

Ultimately, Spandau Prison itself could not escape its association with its Nazi past. Erased.

Zeughaus

Graz. If this name sounds familiar, you must either have visited Austria’s second largest city or you know that Arnold Schwarzenegger is one of Graz’s more famous sons. Or perhaps you may recall that its football stadium was once named after him. Once. That was until the city's assembly condemned the California governor's refusal to grant clemency and halt the execution of a convicted murderer. Literally overnight, they had the large letters spelling his name pulled from the arena. Capital punishment is illegal in Austria. Am I sensing a degree of passion -- or testosterone? Governor Schwarzenegger subsequently returned by post the honorary ring the city had presented to him. Now, now.

For many other and better reasons, Graz is unique. Its old town is one of the best-preserved city centers in Europe -- it somehow avoided the mass destruction of Allied bombing raids during the Second World War. This is most fortunate since Graz had been the resident city of the younger Austrian line of the Habsburgs, beginning in the 14th century. They lived in Schloßberg castle and from there ruled Styria, Carinthia, portions of Italy and Slovenia. Later, Italian Renaissance artists and architects contributed to the city's planning and design. Located between Italy, the Balkan States, with Central Europe to the north, Graz over time absorbed various influences from these neighboring areas -- from Gothic to Modern.

Graz is situated in the Austrian federal state of Styria (Steiermark). The older German interpretation of the word mark literally refers to an area of land utilized as a defensive frontier. In these areas the local population was trained to organize and fight against invaders. Given its location, Graz was often assaulted -- by the Hungarians (1481) and the Ottoman Turks (1529, 1532). Unsuccessfully, mind you. In fact, its fortress was one of only two fortifications in the region which never fell to the Turks. The city also withstood two occupations by Napoleon's army (1797, 1809). Ironically, though the Austrian forces within Schloßberg were outnumbered and repelled numerous attacks by the French, their emperor, Francis I, ordered their surrender after Napoleon overwhelmed Vienna. Unfortunately, the Treaty of Schönbrunn (1809) imposed harsh terms on Austria, to include the destruction of Vienna’s and Graz’s fortifications. Schloßberg was demolished; though its Uhrturm clock tower was spared by ransom.

Naturally then, Graz is home to the region's provincial armory, the Landeszeughaus. The strategic importance of Graz required its armory to be a vital arsenal for the Habsburg Empire on its south-eastern flank. Completed in 1645, its Baroque entrance is guarded by Mars (god of war) and Minerva (goddess of war). The Landeszeughaus now houses an impressive collection of pikes, pistols, rifles, swords, coats of mail, and various forms of armor.

When I wandered through the Landeszeughaus, exploring the world's largest historical collection of Baroque weaponry, I literally stepped back in time. The armory consists of five floors, with different types of military hardware arranged by historical period. I was struck by the armory’s pristine state of preparedness -- it was as if it was still standing ready to outfit an entire medieval militia, mustering to oppose an imminent invasion. I also noticed that most of the armor appeared to have small battle scars or dents. A curator pointed out that they were not marks left by conflict, but were “tests” to insure the proper strength of the metal. Aha -- medieval armor making was an exacting life or death craft.

There are certain situations in which we must erase all doubt.

The Landeszeughaus also has a few of the last surviving sets of horse body armor. I was captivated. I had to touch, feel -- with the requisite protective gloves on, of course. But I could not stop there. Blades, swords. Several of the swords I handled, to include a long two-handed sword, or Zweihänder, were amazingly light to wield. The Zweihänder was apparently used by specialized swordsmen to reach beyond the front line spears, hewing through the difficult barriers which spearmen and pikemen presented. My mind drifted into visions of charging brigades, brandished swords, flanking cavalry -- the chaos of swift deadly thrusts, slices, cuts.

Brutal. Blood, sweat and tears.

I'm pleased that we've seemingly progressed. But I can't help but wonder if we've become oblivious to the cost of employing lethal force -- even in defense. Penetrating and blunt force trauma. Devastation -- pestilence occupies the ensuing void. Mortal combat has always been horrific. History becomes legend, then myth -- and we forget. But what if we're ignorant of history in the first place?

The Landeszeughaus is history.