TRIP REPORT
POLAND (and UK)
4/21 –5/1/00
I had intended this report to only describe Poland but there were some events in the UK leading up to this trip that adversely affected the Poland trip so thought it would be best to include those also.
And you probably thought that I was just sitting around on my hands after I had waved goodbye to my team of ex-virgins from the BBR at the end of the London Marathon.
Wrong! Four days later my baby brother Doug and his wife Darleen arrived from Richardson, Texas. I made them stay up that first day as I toured them around Cambridge in the rain. From experience we have determined that it is best to stay awake till your normal bedtime and then crash and sleep for as long as you need. When you finally do get up most of the jet lag is behind you! The next day (Friday) was the start of a long weekend so all four of us took off (in the rain again) on a worldwind tour of England and Scotland.
We drove up through the Lake District and stayed in the Lake Windermere area. The following day we toured through some of the back roads in the Lake District as we made our way north to Lanark, Scotland. We stopped in Lanark for lunch and a short walking tour to discover more facts about Sir William Wallace –Braveheart. This is where he did indeed marry 18 year old Marion Braidfute in 1296. And she was later killed by the mean old English sheriff of Lanark called Haselrigg whom William killed for revenge by splitting his skull with his huge broadsword. But contrary to the movie version, William and Marion did have a daughter before she was murdered.
We traveled on through the city of Perth to Stirling where we stayed overnight and Doug was able to complete his pilgrimage to the Wallace Monument. Stirling is the location where William Wallace reached his historical peak with a magnificent victory over an overwhelming English army on September 11, 1297. In 1298 he was appointed as ‘Guardian of Scotland’ and in 1305 he was betrayed by Sir John Montieth. On August 23, 1305 in Smithfield, he was hanged, disemboweled whilst still conscious and his entrails burned. His head was displayed on London Bridge and the four quarters of his body sent for exhibition at Newcastle, Berwick, Stirling and Perth. And you thought this was a PG-report!
It is fitting that the Wallace National Monument was built on top of Abbey Craig, Stirling – a 330-foot volcanic plug from which Wallace mounted the attack. The Monument was completed in 1869 and the top of the 220 feet high tower is reached by climbing 246 steps. Three chambers house various Wallace artifacts including Wallace’s famous double-handed broadsword. I always told my kids that if they could raise the sword above their head that they could lay claim as chieftain of the Wallace Clan!
The movie ‘Braveheart’ did provide a lot of positive exposure to Wallace and Scotland but I think that they might have gone too far in their appreciation when they built a new statue of Wallace or ‘Braveheart’ at the base of the Monument – in the image of Mel Gibson!
But now it was time to move north to Loch Ness and like everyone else who is captivated with the legend of the monster - look for ‘Nessie’. I told my baby brother that since he was the youngest and therefore more agile and quicker that it would only be fair that I hold the fishing pole and he swim out into the Loch with the line and bobber. He was to splash and act like a big fish and call “Here Nessie, here Nessie”! After we checked into a local hotel/B&B in Drumnadrochit we met a local Scotsman called Willie in the bar. We asked him where to look for Nessie. He told us that the only chance we had to see Nessie was to buy a large bottle of local Scotch Whiskey and the more we drank the better the better our chances would get! We had a delightful evening talking with Willie. And how smart he was!
For the next morning we went directly to the ‘Loch Ness 2000 – the new exhibition’. It is a high-tech, multi-media exhibition and presentation on the history of Loch Ness and Nessie. It covers everything from sightings over a hundred years ago to recent scientific studies and explorations including the last one a few years ago where an armada of sonar boats scanned ever square inch of the Loch. The conclusion was damnable frank! There is no Nessie and the Loch cannot ecologically support a monster or mammal of that size! Well- Burst our Bubbles! The next thing you know some scientific jerk will tell us there is no Santa Claus! And then none of us will get any more Christmas presents from Santa!
We were so flabbergasted and shocked that we just left and traveled on to St Andrews through the rain and intermittent sun. At least I knew that we would find great golf courses, some castle and church ruins there!
Everyone enjoyed St Andrews as it is a very pretty and picturesque town with a lot of history. We even managed to buy some Wallace tartans and momentos there since they were impossible to find in Stirling- I guess everyone believes that they become an honorary member of the Clan if they visit the Monument?
But now my own misery was about to begin. Did I mention rain a few times? Did I mention that this past April has been the wettest April on record in the UK? Well of course I had been running in this wonderful liquid sunshine all month including each day of the trip. Now I don’t know if weather is the reason but as each day of the trip progressed I seemed to feel worse and worse with a cold or flu. That final morning in St Andrews I got up early to run along the ‘West Sands Beach” where they filmed ‘Chariots of Fire’. It was so cold, rainy and windy as I ran along the beach that I quit after two miles. By the time we started the drive to Edinburgh I was feeling very poorly. But I wanted to show Doug and Dee the city of Edinburgh since it is a pretty city with a lot of history. It was raining so hard that we had to take a city bus tour and stay on the bus. Finally we left the city after lunch and started the 8-hour drive home. It rained all the way but thankfully my kind wife took pity on me and drove for two hours through torrential rain while I grabbed a nap. By the time we arrived home my cold or flu was in full bloom –and I was schedule to leave for Poland in two days!
Not only did I feel sick for the next few days but I felt badly that I could not accompany Doug and Dee into London to explore the city during those days. But they managed fine without me as I stayed in bed trying to kill off the flu bug that was unfortunately winning. Finally on Friday it was time to leave for Poland. If I had not prepaid the nonrefundable tickets and booked the hotel, etc I would have stayed at home. But the marathon was on Sunday and I still had hopes for a recovery in the next few days? So off I went! What a long miserable journey as I flew from Heathrow to Warsaw and then connected with a commuter flight on to Wroclaw. I had done a fair amount of research on Poland before leaving and was to find out that 75% of what I read or learned was wrong - at least when applied to Wroclaw.
Wroclaw, the city of 100 Bridges, is the fourth largest city in Poland with a population of 700,000. It is situated in the southwest province of Silesia. The city is celebrating its 1000th anniversary this year and has had a tumultuous history. For centuries the city was known as Breslau when it was part of Prussia. At the end of WWII, the city was confiscated from Germany and the German population forced to leave. Polish citizens from the city of Lwow in Ukraine were then forced to leave that city and occupy Breslau which reverted back to its Polish name of Wroclaw. Most of the city was destroyed in 1945. Wroclaw’s city center or ‘Old Town’ is delineated by the River Odra to the north and the original defensive moats to the south. The town square, called Rynek is the heart of the city and is the largest in Poland. It reminds me very much of the town squares in Tallinn, Estonia and Prague, CZR. The center-piece of Rynek Square is the Ratusz or town hall which was built in stages between 1290 and 1504. It has a large astronomical clock like Prague and much of its interior is well preserved and contains many original furnishings and paintings. The rest of Rynek Square has been reconstructed since 1945 to resemble the buildings of the 15th century. They have done an excellent job and the square is very colorful and artistic. But in Prague and Tallinn the old town squares contain the original buildings that have been restored and you really can tell the difference! And this is one of the first major errors I found in the guidebooks. They claimed that the cities were dirty and crime-ridden – I found just the opposite. Wroclaw is clean and most of the buildings in Old Town have been rebuilt or refurbished and new office buildings and hotels are being built. There are no signs of crime; e.g. bars or security screens on windows and storefronts. People walk around at all hours of the day and except for a few beggars there is no hassle or threats. The people are very friendly and strangely unfamiliar with tourists because tourism has yet to be discovered. It is a very pleasant city to visit. The only drawback is language. The guidebooks stated that most Poles speak English. Wrong! The only person I found to speak English in the whole city was the desk clerk at the hotel. Surprisingly even the young people could not speak English!
There are many other tourist attractions in the city. If you are into old churches then Wroclaw is your place. It could easily be called the ‘City of 100 Churches’. Most of the churches were built in the 14 and 15th Centuries and have been fully restored. But I have been ‘churched out’ and only viewed them from the exterior. But I did enjoy Wroclaw’s best-loved sight –‘The Panorama of the Battle of Raclawice’. This gigantic painting/mural, 360 feet long and 45 feet high, was commissioned in 1894 to celebrate the centenary of the defeat of the Russian army by the Poles near the village of Raclawice. It is housed in a specially designed rotunda that includes soil and props from the actual region and is so well done that it is difficult to tell where the props end and the mural begins. It is accompanied by a half-hour presentation to describe the battle scenes depicted in the mural. It had lain damaged and in storage for years until Poland escaped the communist cloak and is now Poland’s most visited site!
All these wonderful sites and attractions I was able to visit in only a few days while still feeling like a piece of warmed-up crap! Fortunately the weather was sunny and hot –very hot - which seemed to help me. Or maybe it was the scantily clad Polish women enjoying the first heat wave of the year as they walked around Old Town. I was pleasantly surprised to discover that many young Polish women have unbelievable Barbie-Doll type figures –ultra slim bodies with large wonderful boobs! Forgive my male hormones – but the truth is -it was wonderful! Again a major drawback was that none of them spoke English.
The language issue did cause a few problems during my visit. When I finally found the race HQ to pick up my entry, etc. not one race volunteer spoke English. Since I have been through this routine a few times I was able to sort my own way through the process until it came time to pay. The entry fee was a whole 30 Zloty (zl) or $7.50 which included a T-shirt, goody package and finisher’s medal ( vs the norm of about $50). When I tried to pay they just kept saying “Nie” ( No). They refused to take my money? The only reason I can guess that they comp’d me is that I was the only American entered in the race and maybe they figured I spent enough just getting there? Another problem was that all the race instructions were in Polish and I couldn’t figure out what the last minute instructions were. But I did figure out where the race started so I just made sure to show up early so I could follow the crowd.
And lastly I had a difficult time with the menus. Piwo (beer) and woda (water) were easy to learn but most of the other important food groups were not as easy. But its amazing how quickly you can adapt to survive.
Finally Sunday or M-day arrived. When I woke up I felt about 60% which is the best I had felt all week. So I figured “shit, I’m here, I’ve nothing else to do and if I run real easy there is a good chance I may not die”! So off to the start you lazy bugger! It was a 9 am start which was probably OK in a normal year but the temperature had already climbed above 70 degrees F. This already had the signs of getting real ugly! Things actually went fairly smoothly for the first 20 miles but then my prediction started coming true. My body was still running a fever with the flu and by 20 miles the temperatures were exceeding 80 degrees and I just couldn’t cool down fast enough. And the race only had woda every 5 K which was not enough in that heat. But to make a long agonizing and painful story short, I finished (3:57:57) and I survived to do it again another day and another race!
Now for the reward! Lots of cold piwo while sitting under a cool umbrella at an outdoor café on the Square while watching all those wonderful Barbie Dolls parade by in their mini skirts, shorts and halter-tops. Ah! Life doesn’t get much better!
But I would probably trade at least a few minutes of that glorious R &R to get rid of this damn cold that is still plaguing me even after my return. I have now resolved to rest and back off running until I beat this thing completely. Fortunately I have a few weeks before my next running adventure. Stay tuned!
Sunday, April 30, 2000
Sunday, April 16, 2000
TR London & Paris Marathons Part 2
TRIP REPORT
France and England –Part 2
4/6 – 4/16/00
Now where were we? Oh yes! Arriving in Stortford after a 7-hour drive from Versailles. Did I mention that it started to rain as we approached the North Sea coast and it rained from the time we exited the chunnel until we arrived home? Welcome to England!
That evening the Wallaces and Ballingers stayed at home to rest and enjoy a home-cooked meal by the renowned ‘Chef Jean’ and complimented by some of the excellent French wines that we imported and liqueurs from other European countries.
A quick phone call confirmed that the rest of the BBR had arrived in London and Debbie and Holly were on a final shopping binge before they caught their flight back to Dallas Wednesday morning. John had to leave also on Wednesday for a business meeting in Budapest, Hungary so Fred planned to catch a train to Stortford and reunite with the rest of us for a few days at the ‘Wallace Hilton’ where the rates were much cheaper and the rooms better.
The following morning Dick and Sue visited with an elderly friend in a neighboring town while I picked Fred up at the train station. Nicole unfortunately had to go to work. Work –yuk! What a waste of good time that could be spent doing things that you LIKE TO DO!
Anyway the four of us non-workers took off to visit Cambridge. We toured around the city and the various college campuses. The weather unfortunately was not pleasant – sunny for one minute and cold and rainy for the next fifty-nine – not a satisfactory ratio! So after a few hours we returned home to prepare for an evening with the Bishops Stortford Running Club. I took Fred and Dick to the club to experience an evening with the local runners while Nicole and Sue went off to a local pub to experience local pub food and beer. The club members led us on a fast 8-mile tour around Stortford and as Fred commented “every hill in Stortford”. Actually it was only our regular route but Fred doesn't like hills. After the run and a quick shower at the club, I treated Fred and Dick to a massage by the club masseuse Sue – I call her ‘Magic Fingers Sue’ because she always finds some muscle that is hurting even when you think everything is fine. She didn’t let me down as she made all three of us writhe and scream in pain – but we all felt better after she was done!
Then we drank beer and talked with the club members whom explained to Fred and Dick that they weren’t sure whether the club was made up of “runners with a drinking problem” or “drunkards with a running problem”? I think both Fred and Dick were impressed with the camaraderie of the club and the participation for a small town like Stortford.
The following day (Thursday) turned out to be a rest or recharge day. With the weather still very inhospitable and everyone needing to do laundry we just lazed around the house and recharged our batteries for the next onslaught of activities. And of course another home-cooked gourmet meal by Chef Jean complimented by his exquisite wine cellar and liqueur cabinet –all part of the Maddog pre-marathon diet
Finally it was time to swing into action again! On Friday morning I accompanied the BBR into London on the train and they checked into their hotel – and indeed did confirm that the rooms were much better at the ‘Wallace Hilton’. The hotel selected in Paris by Marathon Tours was much better than the one in London. After they checked in we departed for Covent Garden to see if we could find tickets for ‘The Lion King’. I had tried to buy tickets in advance but the musical was sold out through October 2000. I didn’t hold out much hope but we proceeded directly to the Lyceum Theatre to see if they had any returned tickets. No luck! So we walked around Covent Garden until we found a discount ticket vendor to determine what shows he did have tickets for. As a joke I asked if he had six tickets for the Lion King and was shocked when he claimed that he had six tickets in a row in the balcony or Grand Circle for the evening performance. Sure enough – he did! He charged a 100% premium but we still jumped on them! Then I made a quick phone call to Nicole (still at work – yuk!) and asked her to meet us at the theatre. She wanted very badly to see the Lion King before we left London.
Then we were off to the marathon exhibition to pick up our race packets and visit the booths. It turned out to be a hectic day as we had to rush back to the hotel to meet and inform John that he was going to the Lion King and then meet Nicole at the theatre for dinner.
The Lion King is a great show. The sets and costumes are spectacular and according to Fred whom has watched the video many times with his six year-old son, follows the story line fairly closely.
On Saturday I left the BBR to do their own thing in London while I caught up on some personal chores at home. The weather was still miserable (cold and rain) and I have done the city tour too many times already. Apparently so had most of the BBR as they decided to spend the day indoors at Harrod’s! On Saturday evening I rejoined the group for the pasta feed and bunked out in Fred and John’s hotel room so that we could all catch the bus together to the start line. The marathon starts in Greenwich and Marathon Tours provided a charter bus to take their clients to the start. On Saturday we had reluctantly accepted the fact that the weather was going to be miserable during the race and were prepared to run in cold weather gear.
Boy, were we pleasantly surprised to wake up on M-Day to SUNNY and DRY skies! By the time the race started we had stripped down to shorts and a singlet! I forgot to mention that we all ran both marathons in a Texas-flag singlet that brought us many cheers from spectators that recognized the flag!
The marathon starts in Greenwich and the course passes many of the major tourist sites in London such as the Cutty Sark, Canary Wharf, the Tower of London, over the Tower Bridge, along the Thames River, past the London Eye, Big Ben and the Parliament Buildings to finish in St James Park.
Again we pledged that it was all or none – especially for the second one. Remember, I was escorting three running virgins on the second leg of their first-ever back-to-back marathons. Thus our primary goal was that everyone finish –the secondary goal was to beat 3:45 and our Paris time! And London did not want to make it easy to accomplish goal # 2! Although they used computer chips for timing just as Paris did the big difference was that the official time started with the gun and not the actual time that you crossed the start line (most races using computer chips start your time when your chip crosses the start line). It took us 02:15 to cross the start line plus 09:41 for the first mile so we had a huge time penalty to overcome to accomplish goal # 2. Again there were 30,000+ runners and the narrow streets squeezed the runners together and made it very difficult to stay together. But we used the same strategy that worked in Paris and always had each other in sight. We made up some of our penalty time in the first half and continued the strong even pace throughout the second half. John started to fade a bit after mile 20 (he hadn’t received the benefits of Magic Fingers Sue’s recuperative massage) but we took turns pulling him along with encouragement and lies. The last 10K are all willpower and mind games and we just helped him fool his mind. Much to his credit he sucked it in, focused on overcoming the pain and kept up with us! All four members of the BBR crossed the finish line hand-in-hand in 3:44:22! The three virgins accomplished an amazing feat –they not only ran the second leg of their first back-to-back marathons faster than the first but they ran a negative split in that second marathon. They should be very proud of themselves! As we walked back to the hotel through Hyde Park John commented “Well, we have just experienced a brief sample in the life of a Maddog – and once is enough!”
After showers and a short rest, Nicole and Sue joined us and we enjoyed a bottle of French Champagne to celebrate our success! Then we headed for the nearest pub to eat greasy food (to replace all the fat cells burned during the race) and wash it down with beer. Properly replenished we headed for the London Eye or as Dick calls it “the big-ass Ferris wheel”. I was able to reserve tickets in advance so we walked straight on for our ‘flight’ as they call it. The views of London are spectacular from the Eye. And unbelievably the weather was still cooperating with us –it remained sunny and dry until about 5 minutes after we got off the Eye and then it started to rain again. Thus we decided to tube it back to the hotel and find a restaurant close to the hotel for our victory dinner. Although we were all very pleased and wanting to celebrate it was a quiet dinner because fatigue was setting in. So we said our final good byes at the hotel and parted ways.
It was a fun time and I hope an enjoyable and memorable experience for all members of the BBR and their spouses who participated in this adventure. Maybe I will find out later this year as I threw a parting challenge out – there is an inaugural marathon in December 2000 in Tampa Bay (just up the road from our new home in Sarasota) the week after the Dallas White Rock Marathon- why don’t we do both????
France and England –Part 2
4/6 – 4/16/00
Now where were we? Oh yes! Arriving in Stortford after a 7-hour drive from Versailles. Did I mention that it started to rain as we approached the North Sea coast and it rained from the time we exited the chunnel until we arrived home? Welcome to England!
That evening the Wallaces and Ballingers stayed at home to rest and enjoy a home-cooked meal by the renowned ‘Chef Jean’ and complimented by some of the excellent French wines that we imported and liqueurs from other European countries.
A quick phone call confirmed that the rest of the BBR had arrived in London and Debbie and Holly were on a final shopping binge before they caught their flight back to Dallas Wednesday morning. John had to leave also on Wednesday for a business meeting in Budapest, Hungary so Fred planned to catch a train to Stortford and reunite with the rest of us for a few days at the ‘Wallace Hilton’ where the rates were much cheaper and the rooms better.
The following morning Dick and Sue visited with an elderly friend in a neighboring town while I picked Fred up at the train station. Nicole unfortunately had to go to work. Work –yuk! What a waste of good time that could be spent doing things that you LIKE TO DO!
Anyway the four of us non-workers took off to visit Cambridge. We toured around the city and the various college campuses. The weather unfortunately was not pleasant – sunny for one minute and cold and rainy for the next fifty-nine – not a satisfactory ratio! So after a few hours we returned home to prepare for an evening with the Bishops Stortford Running Club. I took Fred and Dick to the club to experience an evening with the local runners while Nicole and Sue went off to a local pub to experience local pub food and beer. The club members led us on a fast 8-mile tour around Stortford and as Fred commented “every hill in Stortford”. Actually it was only our regular route but Fred doesn't like hills. After the run and a quick shower at the club, I treated Fred and Dick to a massage by the club masseuse Sue – I call her ‘Magic Fingers Sue’ because she always finds some muscle that is hurting even when you think everything is fine. She didn’t let me down as she made all three of us writhe and scream in pain – but we all felt better after she was done!
Then we drank beer and talked with the club members whom explained to Fred and Dick that they weren’t sure whether the club was made up of “runners with a drinking problem” or “drunkards with a running problem”? I think both Fred and Dick were impressed with the camaraderie of the club and the participation for a small town like Stortford.
The following day (Thursday) turned out to be a rest or recharge day. With the weather still very inhospitable and everyone needing to do laundry we just lazed around the house and recharged our batteries for the next onslaught of activities. And of course another home-cooked gourmet meal by Chef Jean complimented by his exquisite wine cellar and liqueur cabinet –all part of the Maddog pre-marathon diet
Finally it was time to swing into action again! On Friday morning I accompanied the BBR into London on the train and they checked into their hotel – and indeed did confirm that the rooms were much better at the ‘Wallace Hilton’. The hotel selected in Paris by Marathon Tours was much better than the one in London. After they checked in we departed for Covent Garden to see if we could find tickets for ‘The Lion King’. I had tried to buy tickets in advance but the musical was sold out through October 2000. I didn’t hold out much hope but we proceeded directly to the Lyceum Theatre to see if they had any returned tickets. No luck! So we walked around Covent Garden until we found a discount ticket vendor to determine what shows he did have tickets for. As a joke I asked if he had six tickets for the Lion King and was shocked when he claimed that he had six tickets in a row in the balcony or Grand Circle for the evening performance. Sure enough – he did! He charged a 100% premium but we still jumped on them! Then I made a quick phone call to Nicole (still at work – yuk!) and asked her to meet us at the theatre. She wanted very badly to see the Lion King before we left London.
Then we were off to the marathon exhibition to pick up our race packets and visit the booths. It turned out to be a hectic day as we had to rush back to the hotel to meet and inform John that he was going to the Lion King and then meet Nicole at the theatre for dinner.
The Lion King is a great show. The sets and costumes are spectacular and according to Fred whom has watched the video many times with his six year-old son, follows the story line fairly closely.
On Saturday I left the BBR to do their own thing in London while I caught up on some personal chores at home. The weather was still miserable (cold and rain) and I have done the city tour too many times already. Apparently so had most of the BBR as they decided to spend the day indoors at Harrod’s! On Saturday evening I rejoined the group for the pasta feed and bunked out in Fred and John’s hotel room so that we could all catch the bus together to the start line. The marathon starts in Greenwich and Marathon Tours provided a charter bus to take their clients to the start. On Saturday we had reluctantly accepted the fact that the weather was going to be miserable during the race and were prepared to run in cold weather gear.
Boy, were we pleasantly surprised to wake up on M-Day to SUNNY and DRY skies! By the time the race started we had stripped down to shorts and a singlet! I forgot to mention that we all ran both marathons in a Texas-flag singlet that brought us many cheers from spectators that recognized the flag!
The marathon starts in Greenwich and the course passes many of the major tourist sites in London such as the Cutty Sark, Canary Wharf, the Tower of London, over the Tower Bridge, along the Thames River, past the London Eye, Big Ben and the Parliament Buildings to finish in St James Park.
Again we pledged that it was all or none – especially for the second one. Remember, I was escorting three running virgins on the second leg of their first-ever back-to-back marathons. Thus our primary goal was that everyone finish –the secondary goal was to beat 3:45 and our Paris time! And London did not want to make it easy to accomplish goal # 2! Although they used computer chips for timing just as Paris did the big difference was that the official time started with the gun and not the actual time that you crossed the start line (most races using computer chips start your time when your chip crosses the start line). It took us 02:15 to cross the start line plus 09:41 for the first mile so we had a huge time penalty to overcome to accomplish goal # 2. Again there were 30,000+ runners and the narrow streets squeezed the runners together and made it very difficult to stay together. But we used the same strategy that worked in Paris and always had each other in sight. We made up some of our penalty time in the first half and continued the strong even pace throughout the second half. John started to fade a bit after mile 20 (he hadn’t received the benefits of Magic Fingers Sue’s recuperative massage) but we took turns pulling him along with encouragement and lies. The last 10K are all willpower and mind games and we just helped him fool his mind. Much to his credit he sucked it in, focused on overcoming the pain and kept up with us! All four members of the BBR crossed the finish line hand-in-hand in 3:44:22! The three virgins accomplished an amazing feat –they not only ran the second leg of their first back-to-back marathons faster than the first but they ran a negative split in that second marathon. They should be very proud of themselves! As we walked back to the hotel through Hyde Park John commented “Well, we have just experienced a brief sample in the life of a Maddog – and once is enough!”
After showers and a short rest, Nicole and Sue joined us and we enjoyed a bottle of French Champagne to celebrate our success! Then we headed for the nearest pub to eat greasy food (to replace all the fat cells burned during the race) and wash it down with beer. Properly replenished we headed for the London Eye or as Dick calls it “the big-ass Ferris wheel”. I was able to reserve tickets in advance so we walked straight on for our ‘flight’ as they call it. The views of London are spectacular from the Eye. And unbelievably the weather was still cooperating with us –it remained sunny and dry until about 5 minutes after we got off the Eye and then it started to rain again. Thus we decided to tube it back to the hotel and find a restaurant close to the hotel for our victory dinner. Although we were all very pleased and wanting to celebrate it was a quiet dinner because fatigue was setting in. So we said our final good byes at the hotel and parted ways.
It was a fun time and I hope an enjoyable and memorable experience for all members of the BBR and their spouses who participated in this adventure. Maybe I will find out later this year as I threw a parting challenge out – there is an inaugural marathon in December 2000 in Tampa Bay (just up the road from our new home in Sarasota) the week after the Dallas White Rock Marathon- why don’t we do both????
Monday, April 10, 2000
TR London & Paris Marathons Part 1
TRIP REPORT
France and England
4/6 – 4/16/00
The planning for this trip started over one year ago. As soon as we confirmed that we were moving to England a few of my running buddies from Dallas stated that they would run the London Marathon if we were still here in April 2000. After we arrived in England, I discovered that the Paris marathon was to be held the weekend before London so I asked or challenged them to run back-to-back marathons with me.
These runners are part of an informal group in Dallas called the ‘BrookBachRock’ or ‘BBR’ which is an abbreviation for Brookhaven College, Bachman Lake and White Rock Lake – the three locations in Dallas where we would meet for our training runs. The group has run together for over sixteen years and has added and lost various members throughout that period as some runners quit running and new runners joined the group.
When I left Dallas the group had dwindled down to about five members of which only two were from the original group. But those two, Fred Giles and John Hubbard, plus another ‘original’, Dick Ballinger, whom had retired and moved to Connecticut, accepted my challenge. Another member, Holly Moshier, also accepted the challenge.
Now to put the mentality of these runners and good long-time friends in perspective I must point out that these are the same group that gave a demure, non-competitive, non-obsessive person -‘moi’- the nickname “Maddog”! How was such a name derived? Surely it could not have been as simple as trying to denote that the owner was crazy?
Everyone already knew that fact? No, the explanation I prefer came from a sports article that was written when I completed the 50 + DC challenge. One of my esteemed colleagues/friends provided the following quote: “We call him Maddog because he is so tenacious. When he is in a race he will not give up no matter how difficult the obstacles or conditions are!” I accepted that comment as a compliment and have used the nickname proudly ever since.
Our initial plan was to submit our entries through the normal lottery for the London Marathon and use the ‘Wallace Hilton’ as our base. Since London gets over 200,000 entries for only 30,000 slots they use a lottery system. Many local runners here in England have to try their luck for years before they ever get accepted. We had expected/hoped that overseas entries might get special treatment but no way! We combined our entries under one check, which meant all or nothing, and we were both surprised and disappointed when we received a rejection notice. But not to be daunted we decided to buy our way in by purchasing a race package through Marathon Tours in Boston. The marathon tour operators get guaranteed entry slots for overseas runners to combine with travel packages. The advantage is that they provide all the travel arrangements and guarantee an entry. The disadvantage is the added time and cost because you must accept their travel itineraries and this factor caused Holly to drop out.
But the others were still game and indeed decided to use Marathon Tours to book both London and Paris for them. I had already sent my entry in for Paris but now I had a small problem –no entry for London! I called Marathon Tours and spoke to the owner and reminded him of all the money I had spent with his firm (Greece, Antarctica and London in 86). And since I was sending him three customers for Paris and London, the least he could do was sell me an entry slot. He finally agreed to sell me a slot – for $180! That’s the most I have ever paid for a marathon entry but I was not going to leave London after living here for a year without running the local marathon! So the BBR were on for back-to-back marathons!
The plan was to meet the BBR in Paris, run the marathon and return to our home for a few days before they moved into the package hotel in London. Nicole coordinated a business trip to Paris so we could take our car and make a final wine run also. In the final few days there was a surprising but pleasant change in plans. Holly decided to come to Paris just for the Paris Marathon and John brought his wife Debbie along also for the Paris portion of the trip. Thus there were five members of the BBR and three spouses in the final count when we met in Paris a few days before the marathon (Dick’s wife Sue had always planned to come on the trip).
To say it was a fun time would be putting it in very simple terms. We explored Paris together - well some of us. John and Nicole had to go off to work on Friday while the rest of us explored Paris (or shopped). But we terrorized Paris together the rest of the time. We did the city tour thing and wandered around the Louvre. Some ventured off to explore the Eiffel Tower, the Notre Dame and MontMartre. But we always met up for dinner including a great dinner cruise on the Seine on Friday evening. It just happened to be a birthday weekend for John and Dick. So everyone adopted the Maddog marathon diet – lots of food washed down with copious amounts of beer and wine! But we did get serious the night before M- Day, eating pasta and going to bed early. And M-Day turned out to be a fine day. The weather was cool and sunny.
The marathon started on the Champs Elysees next to the Arc De Triumphe. Fortunately the hotel selected by Marathon Tours was right next to the Arc so that we were able to walk to the start. The course passed through or by most of the major tourist sites in Paris such as Place De La Concorde, Jardin Des Tuileries, the Louvre, Place De La Bastille, through the Bois De Vincennes and past the Parc Zoologique and the Hippodrome de Vincennes, back along the Right Bank of the Seine past Notre Dame, the Grand and Petit Palais, Tour Eiffel, Palais De Chaillot, and through the Bois de Boulogne to finish on Avenue Foch next to the Arc De Triumphe.
We had decided before the race that it would be all or none; i.e. we would all finish together or not at all and the latter was not really an option! With 30,000+ runners and the narrow streets of Paris the race was very crowded and it was difficult at times trying to stay together. But we eventually worked out a system to keep each other in sight especially at the water stations and even for ‘relief’ breaks. Our goal was to finish in 3:45. We ran at an almost perfect pace except when Fred took the lead so we fired him quickly. And even though all of us went through a typical lull at some point during the race we pulled each other along to cross the finish line hand-in-hand in 3:45:12! Time to celebrate! So after our showers, rest, etc. we met and headed down the Champs Elysees to celebrate and enjoy a victory dinner.
On Monday the group had to separate and go different ways. Nicole had business meetings in Versailles on Monday and Tuesday so we decided to move to a hotel in Versailles. Since Dick and Sue were returning to England with us they accompanied us to Versailles. That gave us the opportunity to explore Versailles while Nicole was working and made it easier for her to get to her meetings. The rest of the group stayed in Paris because they planned to take the Eurostar direct from Paris to London on Tuesday. While they shopped and continued to explore Paris, Dick, Sue and I explored the Chateau Versailles and the town. As it turned out the Chateau and most of the town were closed on Monday but we were able to walk around the gardens or Parc of the Chateau and visit the Grand and Petit Trianons. The Grand Trianon was a ‘small’ castle or retreat built by Louis XIV in 1687 at the far end of the park to get away from the constraints of power and the crowd of courtiers at the Chateau. The Petit Trianon was built for the private use of Louis XV in 1760 and is situated in the middle of a botanical garden. It took us all afternoon just to walk around the park and to explore the old quarter of Versailles. We arrived back at the hotel about 6pm – and no Nicole? Nine PM and no Nicole and no message? I figured that she probably had to go to dinner with the NT people but normally she would always leave me a message. So finally we went to dinner and when we returned about 10:30pm –still no Nicole? I waited another hour and was in the process of demanding that the front desk contact the police when in walks – Nicole! She had left a message but the hotel had lost it! And they didn’t even offer us a bottle of wine or a drink to sooth our nerves?
The following morning Dick and I did an easy run through the gardens and park of the Chateau. They are so vast that we figured that you could run a 10K within the park without ever having to loop on any of the dirt paths. While Nicole was wrapping up her meeting, Dick, Sue and I visited the Chateau Versailles. It is the biggest palace I have seen in Europe –and I have seen a lot of them. Although it is grand and some rooms such as the Hall of Mirrors are definitely decadent, I have visited other castles such as the Summer Palace in St. Petersburg, Russia that are more gaudy and decadent!
But now it was time to make the long drive back to England. But first we made a stop at a local wine shop in Versailles where we bought four cases of excellent and high quality wines such as Margaux, Pauillac, St Emillion and Medoc to take back to our wine cellar in the US. We also bought four cases of inexpensive red wines to carry us through our final six weeks in England. Then it was a long 7-hour drive around Paris, across France, through the chunnel, across England, around London and back to Stortford. The rest of the BBR were already on their easy 3-hour Eurostar journey from Paris to London – but they didn’t have eight cases of great French wine with them!
And I guess I need to split this report into two sections to give everyone a rest. Rejoin us in England!
France and England
4/6 – 4/16/00
The planning for this trip started over one year ago. As soon as we confirmed that we were moving to England a few of my running buddies from Dallas stated that they would run the London Marathon if we were still here in April 2000. After we arrived in England, I discovered that the Paris marathon was to be held the weekend before London so I asked or challenged them to run back-to-back marathons with me.
These runners are part of an informal group in Dallas called the ‘BrookBachRock’ or ‘BBR’ which is an abbreviation for Brookhaven College, Bachman Lake and White Rock Lake – the three locations in Dallas where we would meet for our training runs. The group has run together for over sixteen years and has added and lost various members throughout that period as some runners quit running and new runners joined the group.
When I left Dallas the group had dwindled down to about five members of which only two were from the original group. But those two, Fred Giles and John Hubbard, plus another ‘original’, Dick Ballinger, whom had retired and moved to Connecticut, accepted my challenge. Another member, Holly Moshier, also accepted the challenge.
Now to put the mentality of these runners and good long-time friends in perspective I must point out that these are the same group that gave a demure, non-competitive, non-obsessive person -‘moi’- the nickname “Maddog”! How was such a name derived? Surely it could not have been as simple as trying to denote that the owner was crazy?
Everyone already knew that fact? No, the explanation I prefer came from a sports article that was written when I completed the 50 + DC challenge. One of my esteemed colleagues/friends provided the following quote: “We call him Maddog because he is so tenacious. When he is in a race he will not give up no matter how difficult the obstacles or conditions are!” I accepted that comment as a compliment and have used the nickname proudly ever since.
Our initial plan was to submit our entries through the normal lottery for the London Marathon and use the ‘Wallace Hilton’ as our base. Since London gets over 200,000 entries for only 30,000 slots they use a lottery system. Many local runners here in England have to try their luck for years before they ever get accepted. We had expected/hoped that overseas entries might get special treatment but no way! We combined our entries under one check, which meant all or nothing, and we were both surprised and disappointed when we received a rejection notice. But not to be daunted we decided to buy our way in by purchasing a race package through Marathon Tours in Boston. The marathon tour operators get guaranteed entry slots for overseas runners to combine with travel packages. The advantage is that they provide all the travel arrangements and guarantee an entry. The disadvantage is the added time and cost because you must accept their travel itineraries and this factor caused Holly to drop out.
But the others were still game and indeed decided to use Marathon Tours to book both London and Paris for them. I had already sent my entry in for Paris but now I had a small problem –no entry for London! I called Marathon Tours and spoke to the owner and reminded him of all the money I had spent with his firm (Greece, Antarctica and London in 86). And since I was sending him three customers for Paris and London, the least he could do was sell me an entry slot. He finally agreed to sell me a slot – for $180! That’s the most I have ever paid for a marathon entry but I was not going to leave London after living here for a year without running the local marathon! So the BBR were on for back-to-back marathons!
The plan was to meet the BBR in Paris, run the marathon and return to our home for a few days before they moved into the package hotel in London. Nicole coordinated a business trip to Paris so we could take our car and make a final wine run also. In the final few days there was a surprising but pleasant change in plans. Holly decided to come to Paris just for the Paris Marathon and John brought his wife Debbie along also for the Paris portion of the trip. Thus there were five members of the BBR and three spouses in the final count when we met in Paris a few days before the marathon (Dick’s wife Sue had always planned to come on the trip).
To say it was a fun time would be putting it in very simple terms. We explored Paris together - well some of us. John and Nicole had to go off to work on Friday while the rest of us explored Paris (or shopped). But we terrorized Paris together the rest of the time. We did the city tour thing and wandered around the Louvre. Some ventured off to explore the Eiffel Tower, the Notre Dame and MontMartre. But we always met up for dinner including a great dinner cruise on the Seine on Friday evening. It just happened to be a birthday weekend for John and Dick. So everyone adopted the Maddog marathon diet – lots of food washed down with copious amounts of beer and wine! But we did get serious the night before M- Day, eating pasta and going to bed early. And M-Day turned out to be a fine day. The weather was cool and sunny.
The marathon started on the Champs Elysees next to the Arc De Triumphe. Fortunately the hotel selected by Marathon Tours was right next to the Arc so that we were able to walk to the start. The course passed through or by most of the major tourist sites in Paris such as Place De La Concorde, Jardin Des Tuileries, the Louvre, Place De La Bastille, through the Bois De Vincennes and past the Parc Zoologique and the Hippodrome de Vincennes, back along the Right Bank of the Seine past Notre Dame, the Grand and Petit Palais, Tour Eiffel, Palais De Chaillot, and through the Bois de Boulogne to finish on Avenue Foch next to the Arc De Triumphe.
We had decided before the race that it would be all or none; i.e. we would all finish together or not at all and the latter was not really an option! With 30,000+ runners and the narrow streets of Paris the race was very crowded and it was difficult at times trying to stay together. But we eventually worked out a system to keep each other in sight especially at the water stations and even for ‘relief’ breaks. Our goal was to finish in 3:45. We ran at an almost perfect pace except when Fred took the lead so we fired him quickly. And even though all of us went through a typical lull at some point during the race we pulled each other along to cross the finish line hand-in-hand in 3:45:12! Time to celebrate! So after our showers, rest, etc. we met and headed down the Champs Elysees to celebrate and enjoy a victory dinner.
On Monday the group had to separate and go different ways. Nicole had business meetings in Versailles on Monday and Tuesday so we decided to move to a hotel in Versailles. Since Dick and Sue were returning to England with us they accompanied us to Versailles. That gave us the opportunity to explore Versailles while Nicole was working and made it easier for her to get to her meetings. The rest of the group stayed in Paris because they planned to take the Eurostar direct from Paris to London on Tuesday. While they shopped and continued to explore Paris, Dick, Sue and I explored the Chateau Versailles and the town. As it turned out the Chateau and most of the town were closed on Monday but we were able to walk around the gardens or Parc of the Chateau and visit the Grand and Petit Trianons. The Grand Trianon was a ‘small’ castle or retreat built by Louis XIV in 1687 at the far end of the park to get away from the constraints of power and the crowd of courtiers at the Chateau. The Petit Trianon was built for the private use of Louis XV in 1760 and is situated in the middle of a botanical garden. It took us all afternoon just to walk around the park and to explore the old quarter of Versailles. We arrived back at the hotel about 6pm – and no Nicole? Nine PM and no Nicole and no message? I figured that she probably had to go to dinner with the NT people but normally she would always leave me a message. So finally we went to dinner and when we returned about 10:30pm –still no Nicole? I waited another hour and was in the process of demanding that the front desk contact the police when in walks – Nicole! She had left a message but the hotel had lost it! And they didn’t even offer us a bottle of wine or a drink to sooth our nerves?
The following morning Dick and I did an easy run through the gardens and park of the Chateau. They are so vast that we figured that you could run a 10K within the park without ever having to loop on any of the dirt paths. While Nicole was wrapping up her meeting, Dick, Sue and I visited the Chateau Versailles. It is the biggest palace I have seen in Europe –and I have seen a lot of them. Although it is grand and some rooms such as the Hall of Mirrors are definitely decadent, I have visited other castles such as the Summer Palace in St. Petersburg, Russia that are more gaudy and decadent!
But now it was time to make the long drive back to England. But first we made a stop at a local wine shop in Versailles where we bought four cases of excellent and high quality wines such as Margaux, Pauillac, St Emillion and Medoc to take back to our wine cellar in the US. We also bought four cases of inexpensive red wines to carry us through our final six weeks in England. Then it was a long 7-hour drive around Paris, across France, through the chunnel, across England, around London and back to Stortford. The rest of the BBR were already on their easy 3-hour Eurostar journey from Paris to London – but they didn’t have eight cases of great French wine with them!
And I guess I need to split this report into two sections to give everyone a rest. Rejoin us in England!
Saturday, April 01, 2000
TR San Marino
TRIP REPORT
Italy- San Marino - Italy
3/29 –4/1/00
I had decided to book this trip on a spur-of-the moment whim a few weeks back. I realized that I would have a marathon-free weekend after Turin and did not want to sit around idly. So I figured that I could (should) explore one of those small countries on my European list. It is unlikely that I would ever want to fly all the way from the US just to visit one so what better time than now? I narrowed the list down to Andorra or San Marino and chose the latter since I figured the weather would be better there. If I hadn’t already purchased my tickets for Turin I would have just continued on from there last week by train. Now I had to fly to Bologna, rent a car and drive 135 km to San Marino. But it was a very pleasant drive since the highway passed through several vineyards and orchards and the blossoms were in full bloom.
San Marino is a small country in the heart of Italy about 22 km from the seaside resort of Rimini (10 km as the crow flies from the Adriatic Sea). It is shaped like an irregular quadrilateral with a total area of 60 sq. km. It is a very hilly country dominated by Mount Titano – 750 m high and in the center of the country. On the southwestern side of the mountain stands the town of San Marino, the capital of the Republic. Scattered in the hilly countryside surrounding Mount Titano are eight townships called Castles. The total population is only 23,000. The main highway approaching from Rimini has a large arched gateway but no border guards or custom agents. Other border crossings only have a road sign indicating that you are leaving one country and entering the other. The main road climbs from about 100-foot elevation at the border to the top of Mount Titano over 10 km (6 miles). It is a narrow two-lane road that twists and turns. I watched many cyclists tackling it during my three days there and it did not look like fun. No, I did not attempt to run it!
San Marino claims it is the oldest and smallest independent state/country in the world. Oldest maybe since it was established in 3 AD. But they conveniently omitted Vatican City and Gibraltar from their comparison list? I read in one of the tourist brochures that San Marino is hosting the ‘Games of Europe’s Small States’ in 2001. The participants are Andorra, Cyprus, Iceland, Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, Malta and Monaco. See what I mean?
I think that I finally understand European politics. For thousands of years European countries have ignored or altered history and facts to suit their own selfish purposes and inflated egos! The main reason that there has never been (nor will be) a unified Europe is not the differences in languages or culture – it is because it is impossible to fit all the BIG egos in each small country into even one large country! ----- And I don’t even get paid for all this research and analysis!
But I do get to enjoy the research and San Marino is a pleasant country to visit. It reminds me of a combination of Gibraltar and Toledo, the medieval walled city south of Madrid. Mount Titano is similar to the Rock. The east side facing the Adriatic Sea has sheer and spectacular cliffs and what makes it even more spectacular are the three castles or defensive towers built on the edge of the cliffs at the three highest points. The First Tower or Guaita was built in the 10th century with a defensive wall around it on the west slope. The Second Tower or Cesta was built in the 13th century with a second defensive wall to expand the town. The Third Tower or Montale was built later (year unknown). As stated before, these towers were built on the highest peaks of the cliffs and were never taken in battle throughout their history. There is a man-made path called the ‘Passo delle Streghe’ or ‘Witches Pass’ along the very top of the cliffs that connects the three towers. Talk about some magnificent views and scenery! But one wrong step and you fall about 500 feet –straight down!
The towers were defended mainly by ‘Balestrieri’ or crossbowmen that were renowned for their courage and accuracy. There is still a regiment of sixty balestrieri in the San Marino military that compete throughout the region and the world in archery. And you can buy a crossbow almost anywhere- the price goes as high as $1000 depending on size and accuracy.
The old walled city is interesting but not as old or as spectacular as Toledo. There are several good cafes and restaurants and of course a million souvenir shops. It was one of the few places in the country that I could speak English. Other than the shopkeepers I was on another of those 3-day language immersion courses –in Italian! Even though the hotel had satellite TV, there were no English stations and I could not buy an English newspaper anywhere in the country. Just as well since I have now discovered that the stock market was not doing well and that would have just upset me.
All the time that I was driving around the country I kept visualizing and wondering “Where could one run a marathon in this place”? I mean –there was not a flat piece of land or road anywhere in the entire country! The best choice would be the road from Rimini to San Marino but that was a 4-lane highway with no shoulders and too much traffic. So I drove over to the stadium in another Castle (township) where the ‘Games’ are to be held and managed to locate one of the sports administrators. Surprisingly she was an American from NYC. Her parents had moved back to San Marino when she was sixteen and she had stayed to raise her own family there. She confirmed what I had already discovered but did suggest that I check out a walking path in a local park near the border. It was flat, safe from traffic but only 1 km in length. That meant 42 ---FORTY-TWO loops to complete a marathon! That did not appeal to me. I desperately drove around the other Castles looking for a flat road that was longer. But it just didn’t exist!
But later that day as I was reading some tourist brochures I noted that one mentioned a nature trail in Faetano Castle. So I drove over to check it out. Hellaluah! There was a dirt trail running along a small creek that had a few small hills but most importantly it was about 4 km in length. And by jumping up on a side road, a 2-lane country road that crossed over into Italy, I was able to continue another 6.5 km into Italy before the road merged with a major highway. I had laid out a 10.5 km path with only a few minor hills! And that meant only FOUR loops! I’ve done that before.
The Maddog Marathon was on! The next morning I drove back, laid out some water bottles at 2-mile intervals and started the marathon in Faetano. It was without a doubt the most boring marathon I have ever run. Even though I was running easy since I wasn’t competing against runners or a clock I hurt much more than last week in Turin where I was racing very hard? But I finished in 3:59 and have marked San Marino off my list. And that also represented the fourth time in the past five months that I had run a marathon (or part of) in Italy!
After the run I went back to the old walled city to explore some more and have a good lunch and a few beers while looking out at the magnificent views from the top of Mount Titano. Two days is plenty of time to explore the whole country!
The next day I had a late flight out of Bologna but I decided to leave early so that I could drive into Rimini and up along the coast of the Adriatic Sea. But there were so many beach huts, amusement parks, cafes, etc along the beaches that I could hardly see the beaches or the Sea. So I cut back to the tollway and proceeded on to Bologna so that I could have some time to explore that city also.
Bologna is a very interesting city that dates back to the Etruscans during the 6th century BC. But it was not until the Romans established a Latin colony called ‘Bononia’ in 191 BC that the city started to flourish. It experienced many wars and finally became a Papal State in the 15th century. There is an ‘old town’ or historic region in the center of Bologna that dates back to the 10th century. There are several unique and interesting buildings and tourist attractions centered around Piazza Maggiore in the old town such as the Neptune Fountain. It was built in 1563 and represents the symbol of papal power: Neptune rules the seas just as the Pope dominates power over the land. At the foot of the God Neptune are four putti which represent the Ganges, the Nile, the Amazon and the Danube, that were the rivers of the continents known up to that time. Just off the square are the “Le Due Torri’ – ‘The Two Towers’ that are the symbol of Bologna. The Asinelli Tower was constructed in 1120. It is 97 meters high. The Garisenda Tower was constructed in the same period but construction was halted at 47 m because the ground was unstable and the tower started to lean. It leans more than the Tower of Pissa and is therefore under constant care and maintenance. There are several palaces and churches in the old town that date back to the 12th and 13th centuries.
The old town also has the porticos or porches built over the streets like Turin which came in handy since there was a light drizzle most of the morning. I stopped at a restaurant in old town for lunch and had –guess what? - Spaghetti Bolognese. I don’t know what secret ingredients they use but the spaghetti sauce was without a doubt the most delicious that I have ever tasted anywhere in the world!!! I wish that I had had another day to explore the city. But it was time to return to cold, cloudy and dreary England.
Fortunately my 5th and final visit to Italy in the past eight months had no bad incidents or events so I at least left Italy with pleasant memories and a wonderful taste of that delicious Bolognese sauce.
Italy- San Marino - Italy
3/29 –4/1/00
I had decided to book this trip on a spur-of-the moment whim a few weeks back. I realized that I would have a marathon-free weekend after Turin and did not want to sit around idly. So I figured that I could (should) explore one of those small countries on my European list. It is unlikely that I would ever want to fly all the way from the US just to visit one so what better time than now? I narrowed the list down to Andorra or San Marino and chose the latter since I figured the weather would be better there. If I hadn’t already purchased my tickets for Turin I would have just continued on from there last week by train. Now I had to fly to Bologna, rent a car and drive 135 km to San Marino. But it was a very pleasant drive since the highway passed through several vineyards and orchards and the blossoms were in full bloom.
San Marino is a small country in the heart of Italy about 22 km from the seaside resort of Rimini (10 km as the crow flies from the Adriatic Sea). It is shaped like an irregular quadrilateral with a total area of 60 sq. km. It is a very hilly country dominated by Mount Titano – 750 m high and in the center of the country. On the southwestern side of the mountain stands the town of San Marino, the capital of the Republic. Scattered in the hilly countryside surrounding Mount Titano are eight townships called Castles. The total population is only 23,000. The main highway approaching from Rimini has a large arched gateway but no border guards or custom agents. Other border crossings only have a road sign indicating that you are leaving one country and entering the other. The main road climbs from about 100-foot elevation at the border to the top of Mount Titano over 10 km (6 miles). It is a narrow two-lane road that twists and turns. I watched many cyclists tackling it during my three days there and it did not look like fun. No, I did not attempt to run it!
San Marino claims it is the oldest and smallest independent state/country in the world. Oldest maybe since it was established in 3 AD. But they conveniently omitted Vatican City and Gibraltar from their comparison list? I read in one of the tourist brochures that San Marino is hosting the ‘Games of Europe’s Small States’ in 2001. The participants are Andorra, Cyprus, Iceland, Liechtenstein, Luxembourg, Malta and Monaco. See what I mean?
I think that I finally understand European politics. For thousands of years European countries have ignored or altered history and facts to suit their own selfish purposes and inflated egos! The main reason that there has never been (nor will be) a unified Europe is not the differences in languages or culture – it is because it is impossible to fit all the BIG egos in each small country into even one large country! ----- And I don’t even get paid for all this research and analysis!
But I do get to enjoy the research and San Marino is a pleasant country to visit. It reminds me of a combination of Gibraltar and Toledo, the medieval walled city south of Madrid. Mount Titano is similar to the Rock. The east side facing the Adriatic Sea has sheer and spectacular cliffs and what makes it even more spectacular are the three castles or defensive towers built on the edge of the cliffs at the three highest points. The First Tower or Guaita was built in the 10th century with a defensive wall around it on the west slope. The Second Tower or Cesta was built in the 13th century with a second defensive wall to expand the town. The Third Tower or Montale was built later (year unknown). As stated before, these towers were built on the highest peaks of the cliffs and were never taken in battle throughout their history. There is a man-made path called the ‘Passo delle Streghe’ or ‘Witches Pass’ along the very top of the cliffs that connects the three towers. Talk about some magnificent views and scenery! But one wrong step and you fall about 500 feet –straight down!
The towers were defended mainly by ‘Balestrieri’ or crossbowmen that were renowned for their courage and accuracy. There is still a regiment of sixty balestrieri in the San Marino military that compete throughout the region and the world in archery. And you can buy a crossbow almost anywhere- the price goes as high as $1000 depending on size and accuracy.
The old walled city is interesting but not as old or as spectacular as Toledo. There are several good cafes and restaurants and of course a million souvenir shops. It was one of the few places in the country that I could speak English. Other than the shopkeepers I was on another of those 3-day language immersion courses –in Italian! Even though the hotel had satellite TV, there were no English stations and I could not buy an English newspaper anywhere in the country. Just as well since I have now discovered that the stock market was not doing well and that would have just upset me.
All the time that I was driving around the country I kept visualizing and wondering “Where could one run a marathon in this place”? I mean –there was not a flat piece of land or road anywhere in the entire country! The best choice would be the road from Rimini to San Marino but that was a 4-lane highway with no shoulders and too much traffic. So I drove over to the stadium in another Castle (township) where the ‘Games’ are to be held and managed to locate one of the sports administrators. Surprisingly she was an American from NYC. Her parents had moved back to San Marino when she was sixteen and she had stayed to raise her own family there. She confirmed what I had already discovered but did suggest that I check out a walking path in a local park near the border. It was flat, safe from traffic but only 1 km in length. That meant 42 ---FORTY-TWO loops to complete a marathon! That did not appeal to me. I desperately drove around the other Castles looking for a flat road that was longer. But it just didn’t exist!
But later that day as I was reading some tourist brochures I noted that one mentioned a nature trail in Faetano Castle. So I drove over to check it out. Hellaluah! There was a dirt trail running along a small creek that had a few small hills but most importantly it was about 4 km in length. And by jumping up on a side road, a 2-lane country road that crossed over into Italy, I was able to continue another 6.5 km into Italy before the road merged with a major highway. I had laid out a 10.5 km path with only a few minor hills! And that meant only FOUR loops! I’ve done that before.
The Maddog Marathon was on! The next morning I drove back, laid out some water bottles at 2-mile intervals and started the marathon in Faetano. It was without a doubt the most boring marathon I have ever run. Even though I was running easy since I wasn’t competing against runners or a clock I hurt much more than last week in Turin where I was racing very hard? But I finished in 3:59 and have marked San Marino off my list. And that also represented the fourth time in the past five months that I had run a marathon (or part of) in Italy!
After the run I went back to the old walled city to explore some more and have a good lunch and a few beers while looking out at the magnificent views from the top of Mount Titano. Two days is plenty of time to explore the whole country!
The next day I had a late flight out of Bologna but I decided to leave early so that I could drive into Rimini and up along the coast of the Adriatic Sea. But there were so many beach huts, amusement parks, cafes, etc along the beaches that I could hardly see the beaches or the Sea. So I cut back to the tollway and proceeded on to Bologna so that I could have some time to explore that city also.
Bologna is a very interesting city that dates back to the Etruscans during the 6th century BC. But it was not until the Romans established a Latin colony called ‘Bononia’ in 191 BC that the city started to flourish. It experienced many wars and finally became a Papal State in the 15th century. There is an ‘old town’ or historic region in the center of Bologna that dates back to the 10th century. There are several unique and interesting buildings and tourist attractions centered around Piazza Maggiore in the old town such as the Neptune Fountain. It was built in 1563 and represents the symbol of papal power: Neptune rules the seas just as the Pope dominates power over the land. At the foot of the God Neptune are four putti which represent the Ganges, the Nile, the Amazon and the Danube, that were the rivers of the continents known up to that time. Just off the square are the “Le Due Torri’ – ‘The Two Towers’ that are the symbol of Bologna. The Asinelli Tower was constructed in 1120. It is 97 meters high. The Garisenda Tower was constructed in the same period but construction was halted at 47 m because the ground was unstable and the tower started to lean. It leans more than the Tower of Pissa and is therefore under constant care and maintenance. There are several palaces and churches in the old town that date back to the 12th and 13th centuries.
The old town also has the porticos or porches built over the streets like Turin which came in handy since there was a light drizzle most of the morning. I stopped at a restaurant in old town for lunch and had –guess what? - Spaghetti Bolognese. I don’t know what secret ingredients they use but the spaghetti sauce was without a doubt the most delicious that I have ever tasted anywhere in the world!!! I wish that I had had another day to explore the city. But it was time to return to cold, cloudy and dreary England.
Fortunately my 5th and final visit to Italy in the past eight months had no bad incidents or events so I at least left Italy with pleasant memories and a wonderful taste of that delicious Bolognese sauce.
Monday, March 27, 2000
TR Turin, Italy Marathon
TRIP REPORT
Turin Marathon
ITALY – 3/23 – 3/27/00
This was my fourth trip to Italy in the past year! Believe me, it’s not because it is my favorite place or that I want to keep donating to the thieves in Italy! On two of the previous trips I had run marathons in Italy but neither counted as a completion in Italy (Monaco and Vatican City). Therefore I decided to find a marathon in Italy to complete two goals at once. The Turin marathon enabled me to finally count a marathon in Italy and I also celebrated my 56th birthday by running my 157th marathon. Yeah, yeah! I know. The numbers should match and that is what the master plan called for –but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to run that extra marathon in Morocco. So I will learn to live with it!
Nicole and I left on Thursday so we would have plenty of time to explore the city. On Friday we met up with a friend from NYC who is a member of the 50 + DC club. We all took a city tour to get the layout of the land and history of the city. The tour took us through the old town, past many of the statues, palaces and museums and through some of the suburbs. The guide was proud to point out the original FIAT factory. A tidbit – FIAT- Fabrication Italian Automobile Turin (sounds much better in Italian). I never knew that the Fiat was started and is still built in Turin. Turin is a pretty city, not too large and easy to walk around. It was established about 1,000 years ago but the most significant period was the 17th century when it was rebuilt as the capital of the Savoy Duchy. Most of the buildings and architecture in the old town are from that period.
There are lots of museums in the former palaces from that period. The other major tourist attraction is the ‘La Santa Sindone’ or Holy Shroud that is kept in the Duomo or Church of Saint John the Baptist. Only an actual-size copy is on display most of the time but for those interested the real Shroud will be on display from Aug 26 through Oct 22 this year as part of the Jubilee Celebration.
We did a lot of walking and exploring. There are some great cafes and restaurants. And another interesting feature of the city that I liked were the 18kms of porticos or porches that cover all the sidewalks in the old town. The porticos even cross the roads so that you never have to step out into bad weather.
The city has two major rivers, the Dora and Po flowing through it. You can take a boat tour along the Po, which we had intended to do after the marathon but never did have the time.
The western edge of the city is flanked by the Piedmont Hills and beyond that lay the Italian Alps. Turin is the host city for the 2006 Olympics. Had I known that when I arranged the trip I probably would have extended the trip for a few ski days in the Alps.
On Saturday we explored the city some more and found our way to the Stadium to collect our race numbers and final instructions. It is a big race with several Kenyans and other elite runners. As fate always does, the weather was great on Friday and Saturday but on race day, Sunday, it was cool, cloudy, rainy and windy. However the rain let up about three miles into the race so it was not too bad after that. The course was fairly flat but had a lot more hills than described in the brochure. It was a 26-mile loop that started at the stadium and circled the suburbs of Turin but the last 10K went through the old town to finish back at the Stadium. The traffic control was good but the water stations provided sparkling water, which I hate. I hit the half at the exact same time as last week in Germany (1:50) but remember remarking to myself that I was doubtful that I could hold that pace for the second half. Thus I was surprised when I got a second wind or burst of energy around 17 miles and started to drop the pace. The last 10K were the fastest of the race and I managed to run a negative split by 90 seconds to finish in 3:38:30. Believe me, that doesn’t happen very often! So it looks like I am finally starting to get back into marathon shape but I expect it will take another sixty days before I will break 3:30 again.
After the race we had planned to take a boat cruise on the Po River but we had to wait over an hour to get a bus back to the hotel and that delay put a major crimp in our plans. Nicole had to leave Sunday night to get back for meetings at work so we just didn’t have enough time. My friend and I stayed over till Monday but the cruises didn’t operate on Monday. Unfortunately we discovered that nothing operated on Monday! All the museums and palaces were closed. I would have taken a train up to the ski resorts just to check them out but Edson doesn’t ski so we spent the day exploring the city and suburbs on the trams. Bottom line is that three days is all that is needed to visit Turin.
Finally my boredom was over and it was time to return home. And I was so pleased that Turin seemed like a nice quiet city without all the thieves/pickpockets common in the rest of Italy-until I arrived in England to discover that some A-hole in baggage handling had broken into my sports bag and stolen my heart monitor! When I reported the theft to the airport police at Stansted they just smiled and commented ‘Yes, there is a major problem in Turin. We keep asking the police there to help us stop it but there doesn’t seem to be much interest”! I wish they had told me that before I took the trip.
So another donation to the thieves of Italy! But these thieves are going to be a bit disappointed because they only stole the wristwatch and forgot the chest transmitter. All they have is a very ugly watch that is difficult to operate without the instructions.
Oh well. I am now looking for a place that staples all your valuables to your body before you take a trip to Italy? That way I will know when someone rips me off?
But I can’t let these A-holes get to me and spoil my fun! So I am getting back on the horse so-to-speak and going back to Italy tomorrow! Keep your fingers crossed and say a prayer for me!
Turin Marathon
ITALY – 3/23 – 3/27/00
This was my fourth trip to Italy in the past year! Believe me, it’s not because it is my favorite place or that I want to keep donating to the thieves in Italy! On two of the previous trips I had run marathons in Italy but neither counted as a completion in Italy (Monaco and Vatican City). Therefore I decided to find a marathon in Italy to complete two goals at once. The Turin marathon enabled me to finally count a marathon in Italy and I also celebrated my 56th birthday by running my 157th marathon. Yeah, yeah! I know. The numbers should match and that is what the master plan called for –but I couldn’t resist the opportunity to run that extra marathon in Morocco. So I will learn to live with it!
Nicole and I left on Thursday so we would have plenty of time to explore the city. On Friday we met up with a friend from NYC who is a member of the 50 + DC club. We all took a city tour to get the layout of the land and history of the city. The tour took us through the old town, past many of the statues, palaces and museums and through some of the suburbs. The guide was proud to point out the original FIAT factory. A tidbit – FIAT- Fabrication Italian Automobile Turin (sounds much better in Italian). I never knew that the Fiat was started and is still built in Turin. Turin is a pretty city, not too large and easy to walk around. It was established about 1,000 years ago but the most significant period was the 17th century when it was rebuilt as the capital of the Savoy Duchy. Most of the buildings and architecture in the old town are from that period.
There are lots of museums in the former palaces from that period. The other major tourist attraction is the ‘La Santa Sindone’ or Holy Shroud that is kept in the Duomo or Church of Saint John the Baptist. Only an actual-size copy is on display most of the time but for those interested the real Shroud will be on display from Aug 26 through Oct 22 this year as part of the Jubilee Celebration.
We did a lot of walking and exploring. There are some great cafes and restaurants. And another interesting feature of the city that I liked were the 18kms of porticos or porches that cover all the sidewalks in the old town. The porticos even cross the roads so that you never have to step out into bad weather.
The city has two major rivers, the Dora and Po flowing through it. You can take a boat tour along the Po, which we had intended to do after the marathon but never did have the time.
The western edge of the city is flanked by the Piedmont Hills and beyond that lay the Italian Alps. Turin is the host city for the 2006 Olympics. Had I known that when I arranged the trip I probably would have extended the trip for a few ski days in the Alps.
On Saturday we explored the city some more and found our way to the Stadium to collect our race numbers and final instructions. It is a big race with several Kenyans and other elite runners. As fate always does, the weather was great on Friday and Saturday but on race day, Sunday, it was cool, cloudy, rainy and windy. However the rain let up about three miles into the race so it was not too bad after that. The course was fairly flat but had a lot more hills than described in the brochure. It was a 26-mile loop that started at the stadium and circled the suburbs of Turin but the last 10K went through the old town to finish back at the Stadium. The traffic control was good but the water stations provided sparkling water, which I hate. I hit the half at the exact same time as last week in Germany (1:50) but remember remarking to myself that I was doubtful that I could hold that pace for the second half. Thus I was surprised when I got a second wind or burst of energy around 17 miles and started to drop the pace. The last 10K were the fastest of the race and I managed to run a negative split by 90 seconds to finish in 3:38:30. Believe me, that doesn’t happen very often! So it looks like I am finally starting to get back into marathon shape but I expect it will take another sixty days before I will break 3:30 again.
After the race we had planned to take a boat cruise on the Po River but we had to wait over an hour to get a bus back to the hotel and that delay put a major crimp in our plans. Nicole had to leave Sunday night to get back for meetings at work so we just didn’t have enough time. My friend and I stayed over till Monday but the cruises didn’t operate on Monday. Unfortunately we discovered that nothing operated on Monday! All the museums and palaces were closed. I would have taken a train up to the ski resorts just to check them out but Edson doesn’t ski so we spent the day exploring the city and suburbs on the trams. Bottom line is that three days is all that is needed to visit Turin.
Finally my boredom was over and it was time to return home. And I was so pleased that Turin seemed like a nice quiet city without all the thieves/pickpockets common in the rest of Italy-until I arrived in England to discover that some A-hole in baggage handling had broken into my sports bag and stolen my heart monitor! When I reported the theft to the airport police at Stansted they just smiled and commented ‘Yes, there is a major problem in Turin. We keep asking the police there to help us stop it but there doesn’t seem to be much interest”! I wish they had told me that before I took the trip.
So another donation to the thieves of Italy! But these thieves are going to be a bit disappointed because they only stole the wristwatch and forgot the chest transmitter. All they have is a very ugly watch that is difficult to operate without the instructions.
Oh well. I am now looking for a place that staples all your valuables to your body before you take a trip to Italy? That way I will know when someone rips me off?
But I can’t let these A-holes get to me and spoil my fun! So I am getting back on the horse so-to-speak and going back to Italy tomorrow! Keep your fingers crossed and say a prayer for me!
Sunday, March 19, 2000
TR Germany
TRIP REPORT
Steinfurt Marathon
Burgsteinfurt,Germany
3/17 –3/19/00
This was another of those trips where the problems of setting up the trip were the most difficult aspect of the journey. However this time the problem was not travel agents.
Some of you should recall that I solicited the help of my running friends and family (especially those that had lived in Germany) a few months back when I hit a brick wall on the first step. Somehow I had discovered a marathon in the Steinfurt region of Germany but only had information in German. When I asked for assistance in translating the information so that I could figure out where and when I should go, all I got back was –NOTHING! To be fair, my brother-in-law, Tim did pass the email along to a colleague in Germany but by the time he got off his butt and asked what help I needed I had solved the problem. How did I solve it?
I persisted on the net until I finally located the race director (Ralf Kleeman) whom fortunately understood English. Ralf went over and beyond the course of duty in responding to my emails and assisting me. Once I decided on the closest airport (Dusseldorf), he got me train schedules, booked a hotel for me in Burgsteinfurt and even insisted on meeting me at the train on arrival. He took me to the hotel, helped me check in (nobody at the hotel spoke English) and then drove me on a tour of the course. That evening he and his wife picked me up at the hotel and took me to dinner. I have never been treated so royally at a marathon! As it turns out I was a bit of a novelty since I was the first and only American whom has ever entered and run the Steinfurt Marathon in its 17 years of history.
It is a small town marathon that caters to local runners and runners across Germany and neighboring countries. It is well organized and liked and thus they don’t advertise. I still can’t recall how I heard about it –must have been from another marathoner in my travels.
Because it is considered a runner’s marathon the turnout is good –1100 runners and the top two male runners had sub-2:20 credentials!
The race starts and ends at the fachhochschule (university) in Burgsteinfurt. Burgsteinfurt is a small university town located about 30km northwest of Munster and close to the border of Netherlands. It is only slightly bigger than Stortford and reminded me a lot of our new adopted hometown. The town is about 700 years old with a lovely castle –Furstl Schlob (Front Castle) on an island in the center of the town. The main street still retains its’ original appearance with cobbled streets and buildings that are several hundred years old. It was very pleasant walking around the town and sightseeing. The only drawback was that since it is a rural environment nobody spoke English. I went to the local tourist office to get information on the town and region but it was only available in German. I could not even buy a book or information in English –it just didn’t exist!
Other than Ralf and his wife the only other person I met in three days whom spoke English was a reporter from Munster. She grabbed me at the end of the race for an interview for the Munster paper.
So I had another one of those three-day language immersion lessons, only this time in German. I got to where I could understand the basic words and very simple sentences but I cannot speak it at all! And I still have difficulty with the menus.
Back to the race. The marathon started at 1pm on Saturday. I don’t normally like afternoon starts but since the weather was so cold it gave us a few more hours to warm up. The weather turned out to be miserable –cold, rainy and very windy. As I mentioned the race started and ended at the fachhochschule. The course was a 14km loop on the rural roads around the town that we had to repeat three times. Fortunately it was flat and fast but not very scenic as we ran past farms and through a few forests. But I did see several deer along the route. And of course we had to run through the university three times as we passed over the finish line on each loop. (Boy do I hate that-especially at the end of the 2nd loop). As usual they had water stations every 5 km that were well stocked with wasser (water), tee (tea?), electrolute (electrolytic drink like Gatorade), and bananas. One water station was serving local water but the other two were serving carbonated bottled water. I hate drinking that stuff at any time and especially during a race- but you have to do what you have to do! It sure makes my carbohydrate gel taste funny.
I was surprised and pleased to finish in 3:41:02 in spite of the weather and also the fact that I had been in bed for the three days proceeding the race with a flu. And it is one of the few marathons where I didn’t hurt (much) during the race. But 30 minutes after the race I couldn’t (and still can’t) lift my right leg. I must have pulled or overused some muscle. (I still think it all goes back to that damn hamstring injury!)
Hopefully some rest and massages will mend this injury quickly since I have another marathon next weekend.
After the race Ralf introduced me to a German running legend –Franz ?. He had just completed his 940th marathon so I looked like a wimp next to him. But he has completed most of his marathons in Germany and neighboring countries so I have him beat in continents and countries completed. He is in his late 70s and still runs 30+ marathons each year. He needn’t fear me catching him in number of completions.
The next morning turned out to be the nicest weather of the trip, cool but sunny. Since my train routed through Munster on the way back to Dusseldorf, I decided to stop off in Munster to visit the old historic part of the city. Having lived in Munster Hamlet, Ontario I was curious what Munster, Germany looked like. It is a very pretty city and the old historic section is very interesting. The buildings and churches have been restored to their original appearances circa 1600/1700s. Unfortunately it was Sunday and everything was closed so I could only walk around and enjoy the exterior views.
Now I am back in England hobbling around and frustrated that I can’t continue my training for next weekend’s marathon. And I can’t even get any sympathy from Nicole because she left on Saturday for a business trip to NYC. (Do I really believe I would get any sympathy if she were here? But I can dream can’t I?).
Life is such a bitch! Take care and stay tuned for the next episode- from ?????
Steinfurt Marathon
Burgsteinfurt,Germany
3/17 –3/19/00
This was another of those trips where the problems of setting up the trip were the most difficult aspect of the journey. However this time the problem was not travel agents.
Some of you should recall that I solicited the help of my running friends and family (especially those that had lived in Germany) a few months back when I hit a brick wall on the first step. Somehow I had discovered a marathon in the Steinfurt region of Germany but only had information in German. When I asked for assistance in translating the information so that I could figure out where and when I should go, all I got back was –NOTHING! To be fair, my brother-in-law, Tim did pass the email along to a colleague in Germany but by the time he got off his butt and asked what help I needed I had solved the problem. How did I solve it?
I persisted on the net until I finally located the race director (Ralf Kleeman) whom fortunately understood English. Ralf went over and beyond the course of duty in responding to my emails and assisting me. Once I decided on the closest airport (Dusseldorf), he got me train schedules, booked a hotel for me in Burgsteinfurt and even insisted on meeting me at the train on arrival. He took me to the hotel, helped me check in (nobody at the hotel spoke English) and then drove me on a tour of the course. That evening he and his wife picked me up at the hotel and took me to dinner. I have never been treated so royally at a marathon! As it turns out I was a bit of a novelty since I was the first and only American whom has ever entered and run the Steinfurt Marathon in its 17 years of history.
It is a small town marathon that caters to local runners and runners across Germany and neighboring countries. It is well organized and liked and thus they don’t advertise. I still can’t recall how I heard about it –must have been from another marathoner in my travels.
Because it is considered a runner’s marathon the turnout is good –1100 runners and the top two male runners had sub-2:20 credentials!
The race starts and ends at the fachhochschule (university) in Burgsteinfurt. Burgsteinfurt is a small university town located about 30km northwest of Munster and close to the border of Netherlands. It is only slightly bigger than Stortford and reminded me a lot of our new adopted hometown. The town is about 700 years old with a lovely castle –Furstl Schlob (Front Castle) on an island in the center of the town. The main street still retains its’ original appearance with cobbled streets and buildings that are several hundred years old. It was very pleasant walking around the town and sightseeing. The only drawback was that since it is a rural environment nobody spoke English. I went to the local tourist office to get information on the town and region but it was only available in German. I could not even buy a book or information in English –it just didn’t exist!
Other than Ralf and his wife the only other person I met in three days whom spoke English was a reporter from Munster. She grabbed me at the end of the race for an interview for the Munster paper.
So I had another one of those three-day language immersion lessons, only this time in German. I got to where I could understand the basic words and very simple sentences but I cannot speak it at all! And I still have difficulty with the menus.
Back to the race. The marathon started at 1pm on Saturday. I don’t normally like afternoon starts but since the weather was so cold it gave us a few more hours to warm up. The weather turned out to be miserable –cold, rainy and very windy. As I mentioned the race started and ended at the fachhochschule. The course was a 14km loop on the rural roads around the town that we had to repeat three times. Fortunately it was flat and fast but not very scenic as we ran past farms and through a few forests. But I did see several deer along the route. And of course we had to run through the university three times as we passed over the finish line on each loop. (Boy do I hate that-especially at the end of the 2nd loop). As usual they had water stations every 5 km that were well stocked with wasser (water), tee (tea?), electrolute (electrolytic drink like Gatorade), and bananas. One water station was serving local water but the other two were serving carbonated bottled water. I hate drinking that stuff at any time and especially during a race- but you have to do what you have to do! It sure makes my carbohydrate gel taste funny.
I was surprised and pleased to finish in 3:41:02 in spite of the weather and also the fact that I had been in bed for the three days proceeding the race with a flu. And it is one of the few marathons where I didn’t hurt (much) during the race. But 30 minutes after the race I couldn’t (and still can’t) lift my right leg. I must have pulled or overused some muscle. (I still think it all goes back to that damn hamstring injury!)
Hopefully some rest and massages will mend this injury quickly since I have another marathon next weekend.
After the race Ralf introduced me to a German running legend –Franz ?. He had just completed his 940th marathon so I looked like a wimp next to him. But he has completed most of his marathons in Germany and neighboring countries so I have him beat in continents and countries completed. He is in his late 70s and still runs 30+ marathons each year. He needn’t fear me catching him in number of completions.
The next morning turned out to be the nicest weather of the trip, cool but sunny. Since my train routed through Munster on the way back to Dusseldorf, I decided to stop off in Munster to visit the old historic part of the city. Having lived in Munster Hamlet, Ontario I was curious what Munster, Germany looked like. It is a very pretty city and the old historic section is very interesting. The buildings and churches have been restored to their original appearances circa 1600/1700s. Unfortunately it was Sunday and everything was closed so I could only walk around and enjoy the exterior views.
Now I am back in England hobbling around and frustrated that I can’t continue my training for next weekend’s marathon. And I can’t even get any sympathy from Nicole because she left on Saturday for a business trip to NYC. (Do I really believe I would get any sympathy if she were here? But I can dream can’t I?).
Life is such a bitch! Take care and stay tuned for the next episode- from ?????
Tuesday, March 07, 2000
TR Morrocco
TRIP REPORT
Gibraltar, Morocco – Part 2
03/02 –03/09/00
Now where did I leave off? Oh yes, I had booked a 3-day package to Casablanca and was getting ready to depart Gibraltar. It was only a one-hour flight to Casablanca and I arrived in the early afternoon. The airport in Casablanca is new and very modern. But that is where new and modern (and clean) started and ended in Morocco! I was not long into the 45-minute train ride into the city when I began to see the dirt, filth and poverty along the train route. And of course the most common mode of transport in the rural areas is donkey and horse carts. As we entered the city the scenery did not change except there were only a lot less donkey carts.
Casablanca is the largest city in Morocco and is the financial and business center of the country. There are about three square blocks in the city center that contain the banks, business headquarters and the international hotels. This is the only part of the city that is modern and clean! The rest of the city is filthy and full of slums! There are only four major tourist attractions in the city. The Grand Mosque of Hassan II, situated on reclaimed land west of the port, is the world’s largest mosque outside Mecca. It can accommodate 25,000 people and is indeed a beautiful structure but the surrounding areas are some of the worst slums that I have ever seen.
The Medina or old walled city has been converted to souks or market places where you can buy anything you want or don’t want. On the outer edges of the Medina the shops and streets are fairly clean but as you delve into the bowels of the Medina, the area looks just like that –bowels! The filth and stench is unbelievable! I observed one old Arab sitting in the middle of the road with a pile of about 10 rotten oranges in front of him. He was trying to sell them for one Dirham (10 cents) each. I as told that he would sit there for 10 –12 hours trying to sell them because that represented his total income for the day!
The third attraction is the Place des Nations Unies, a grand public square surrounded by the city administrative buildings and includes a huge central fountain (that didn’t work?).
And the final attraction was the Parc de la Ligue Arabe, a large park in the center of the city. I was hoping to run there but it was the sorriest excuse for a park that I had ever seen and I refused to run in the filth!
At the end of my first day in Casablanca I had visited all four of the above ‘tourist attractions’. In addition to the filth and poverty, my other important observations were that nobody in Morocco spoke English and they had no concept of how to treat tourists.
Even the staff at my 4-star hotel, one of the French-Mercure chain could not speak English and the service was poor or non-existent. And I was still not sure or confident how the local people regarded tourists or strangers. Even though I had shucked my ‘American uniform’ for dull drab European clothes, I noticed that almost everyone in the streets would stare at me as I walked by? I quickly realized that I had made one mistake in my dress –I was wearing a short-sleeve shirt and everyone wears long-sleeve shirts and jackets. But even after I put a nylon running jacket on to cover my arms they still stared at me? Then I realized that with my fair complexion, blonde hair and blue eyes that I must have looked (because I certainly felt) like ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ walking through the streets! I did not see one other fair-haired Caucasian walking the streets in my three days in Morocco? But to be fair not once did I feel threatened, hassled or unsafe. And I walked into and through the Medina at night and through the slums to the Mosque and not one person approached me – but the stares and looks were difficult to interpret and did unnerve me a bit.
As I mentioned before, nobody –and I mean nobody spoke English! If you do not speak some French it would be very difficult to survive in Morocco! Fortunately my high school and college French gave me enough base to get by and I just considered the adventure to be a 3-day immersion lesson in French. I could get by well at the hotel and restaurants but had difficulty with the taxi drivers-especially when I needed to explain that I just wanted them to drive/tour me around to explore certain areas of the city.
So Casablanca was a big disappointment! I couldn’t find Bogey or Ingrid or their ghosts re-igniting their passionate love affair. Casablanca is certainly not beautiful or romantic.
There is no ‘Rick’s Place’. And the friggen airport is 45 minutes from the city – nothing like the movie. I don’t know whom to be pissed off at the most –Hollywood or Casablanca?
But it’s not time to jump ship yet? The next day I decide to take a train to Rabat, the capital city of Morocco. It is about one hour north of Casablanca. On the way I stop off at a seaside resort town called Mohammedia that is supposedly a weekend retreat for the citizens of Casablanca. I walked around for about twenty minutes and then hired a min-taxi to drive me around for about 30 minutes to show me the beach (1 mile of nice beach with oil storage tanks at each end) and the golf course. In one hour I decide that the resort town is just a miniature version of Casablanca- filthy and slums! So it’s time to move on to Rabat after I pay the taxi driver 10 Dirhams ($1) for his 30-minute tour.
Upon arriving in Rabat I tried to find or buy a map of the city but could not find one. A helpful citizen suggested that I should go to the Ministere de Tourisme. Since Rabat is the capital all the government departments and buildings are located there. So I take a taxi to the Ministere. Are you ready? Not only did the Ministry of Tourism have no staff who could speak English, but also they had no maps or information for Rabat or even Morocco? And they are supposedly trying to make tourism the number 1 industry? Good luck- not in my lifetime! But you can’t keep a good man down so I found a large international hotel and surprisingly even a concierge whom spoke English and he gave me a map and information on what to see and do in Rabat.
So I spent the rest of the day visiting the tourist sites. Oudaia Kasbah, a 12th century fortress that has been converted into a residential quarter; the Medina, bigger and cleaner than the one in Casablanca and the Hassan Mosque and Tower and the Mausoleum of Mommmed V. He was the king who achieved independence for Morocco in 1956.
Rabat is smaller and cleaner than Casablanca especially in the section of the city where the government buildings are located.
My biggest dilemma at this point was that after two days I really hadn’t identified a site to accomplish my hidden agenda –to run a marathon in Morocco. I had considered going to the Ministere de Sports in Rabat and asking them for help but after my experience at the Tourism branch I figured that would be a waste of time.
So when I returned to Casablanca I stopped at the Hyatt Hotel and talked to the concierge (another person would spoke English) and asked his advice. He recommended an area called ‘Le Corniche’ that ran south along the Atlantic coast from the Grand Mosque. So I hired a mini-taxi to take me out along the Corniche and determined that it could work.
The next morning I started very early (5:30am) from my hotel. I carried three bottles of water with me to drop off at 20-minute intervals. It was only a mile from the hotel to the Mosque and when I reached it I met three army squads doing their morning run and ran with them for a few miles. After 5-6 miles I realized that the road continued further along the coast and decided to keep following it. I would prefer to run out 13 miles and then just turn around and head back if possible. Luckily I found a taverna open that early to buy 3 more bottles of water and continued out the road. Eventually the road turned inland to join the main highway south to El Jadida. There was very little traffic but I did have to share the dirt shoulder with some horse and donkey carts. Finally at 13 miles I turned around and headed back. By the time I hit Le Corniche on my return there were hundreds of local citizens out running and walking. Again the funny/curious stares. But then again I was dressed only in a flimsy T-shirt and shorts and they all wore sweats or jogging suits including hats and hoods. Some even wore gloves. I never did figure out why? Was the clothing to keep warm? (temps were in the mid-70s) -for modesty (the women maybe but the men too?) –or to prevent exposure to the sun?
And in spite of the stares many of them greeted me with a friendly nod and a “Bonjour – Ca va?” (Good morning-How’s it going?) That made me feel much more comfortable. So I continued to run easy and finish my Moroccan Marathon!
The rest of the day I toured around some other sections of Casablanca but just found more of the same old filth and poverty. I was not too disappointed to leave the next day. On the train to the airport I met a Moroccan who now lives in Montreal. He confirmed all my evaluations. They treat him just as bad or worse than tourists. They have no concept how to treat tourists or what good service is –and yes the country is filthy and poor! But he did indicate that Marrakesh is probably the best city for tourists and it is also the gateway to the Atlas Mountains and the Sahara Desert. That will have to be another time and trip.
Back to Gibraltar to catch my plane back to England.
But first I need to finish my tour of the Rock. I still haven’t been to the very top! So I take the Cable Car to the top for some magnificent views of Gibraltar, Spain and Africa. There is a nature reserve at the top with trails and roads leading to many other attractions. On the walk to St Michael’s Caves I experienced my first encounter with the world-famous Rock apes. In fact, these creatures are not apes at all, but a species of tail-less monkeys known as “Macaca sylvanus”. The locals were amazed that I had not heard of these ‘world-famous’ apes until just recently. I learned about the Rock in school but I must have missed the lesson on the apes? There is an interesting story associated with the apes – “the Churchill story”. On a visit to Gibraltar Sir Winston Churchill, on learning that their numbers were diminishing ordered that they be replenished. So the saying now goes “Gibraltar will cease to be British on the day that there are no apes left on the Rock”.
St Michael’s Caves are natural limestone caves that are huge and have such great acoustics that they have built a 500-seat concert hall within the caves. A concert must be a breathtaking experience with all the magnificent stalactites and stalagmites lit up with colored spotlights. Then it was on to the North face to explore the Great Siege Tunnels, a vast network of defensive tunnels excavated during the Great Siege of 1779-1783 (so they could shoot cannons down at the Spaniards approaching across the isthmus). In all there are over 33 miles of tunnels honeycombing the Rock. Most were excavated during WWII and are not open to the public yet.
On my final morning I do one last run up and down, around, over and through the Rock for nostalgia. Then I do my last minute shopping for some souvenirs and booze. Gibraltar is a tax and duty-free port so the prices are very good.
Upon arriving back at Gatwick I am surprised to find myself converged upon by two customs agents whom stick to me like fleas while they search my bag thoroughly and ask lots of questions such as “where have you been”, why do you travel so much”? I find this strange since I haven’t ever seen a customs agent during all my trips in and out of England the previous 10 months? Fortunately all they can find is a deranged marathoner and they send me on my way. Passport control must have noticed the Moroccan stamps in my passport?
And now finally(since I know you have been holding your breath)– the results of the ‘Europe contest’.
For those who submitted entries you have some idea of the difficulties entailed in determining the answer and probably want to know how I resolved those?
1) Europe/Asia border. Even most World Atlases don’t agree on the boundaries since some show countries such as Cyprus and Georgia in Europe. I finally consulted the National Geographic World Reference Book that clearly defines the boundary as accepted by most world laws.
2) Small sovereign states. There are many small states/countries such as Vatican City, Sam Marino and Andorra that can be easily missed. Fortunately I had noticed an article in USA Today listing them all.
3) Heritage/Politics. The most difficult! World Atlases depict the UK as a country. But believe me the citizens of England, Scotland and Wales and even other European countries recognize those countries as independent. They have their own governments and represent themselves in all world sports events (except the Olympics).
With these facts/assumptions in mind the correct answer is --- 47! The actual list of countries is attached for your reference.
The winner is---Nada Rutka with the correct answer of 47! I don’t know if she had the same countries but she had the right quantity. Congratulations!
Gibraltar, Morocco – Part 2
03/02 –03/09/00
Now where did I leave off? Oh yes, I had booked a 3-day package to Casablanca and was getting ready to depart Gibraltar. It was only a one-hour flight to Casablanca and I arrived in the early afternoon. The airport in Casablanca is new and very modern. But that is where new and modern (and clean) started and ended in Morocco! I was not long into the 45-minute train ride into the city when I began to see the dirt, filth and poverty along the train route. And of course the most common mode of transport in the rural areas is donkey and horse carts. As we entered the city the scenery did not change except there were only a lot less donkey carts.
Casablanca is the largest city in Morocco and is the financial and business center of the country. There are about three square blocks in the city center that contain the banks, business headquarters and the international hotels. This is the only part of the city that is modern and clean! The rest of the city is filthy and full of slums! There are only four major tourist attractions in the city. The Grand Mosque of Hassan II, situated on reclaimed land west of the port, is the world’s largest mosque outside Mecca. It can accommodate 25,000 people and is indeed a beautiful structure but the surrounding areas are some of the worst slums that I have ever seen.
The Medina or old walled city has been converted to souks or market places where you can buy anything you want or don’t want. On the outer edges of the Medina the shops and streets are fairly clean but as you delve into the bowels of the Medina, the area looks just like that –bowels! The filth and stench is unbelievable! I observed one old Arab sitting in the middle of the road with a pile of about 10 rotten oranges in front of him. He was trying to sell them for one Dirham (10 cents) each. I as told that he would sit there for 10 –12 hours trying to sell them because that represented his total income for the day!
The third attraction is the Place des Nations Unies, a grand public square surrounded by the city administrative buildings and includes a huge central fountain (that didn’t work?).
And the final attraction was the Parc de la Ligue Arabe, a large park in the center of the city. I was hoping to run there but it was the sorriest excuse for a park that I had ever seen and I refused to run in the filth!
At the end of my first day in Casablanca I had visited all four of the above ‘tourist attractions’. In addition to the filth and poverty, my other important observations were that nobody in Morocco spoke English and they had no concept of how to treat tourists.
Even the staff at my 4-star hotel, one of the French-Mercure chain could not speak English and the service was poor or non-existent. And I was still not sure or confident how the local people regarded tourists or strangers. Even though I had shucked my ‘American uniform’ for dull drab European clothes, I noticed that almost everyone in the streets would stare at me as I walked by? I quickly realized that I had made one mistake in my dress –I was wearing a short-sleeve shirt and everyone wears long-sleeve shirts and jackets. But even after I put a nylon running jacket on to cover my arms they still stared at me? Then I realized that with my fair complexion, blonde hair and blue eyes that I must have looked (because I certainly felt) like ‘Lawrence of Arabia’ walking through the streets! I did not see one other fair-haired Caucasian walking the streets in my three days in Morocco? But to be fair not once did I feel threatened, hassled or unsafe. And I walked into and through the Medina at night and through the slums to the Mosque and not one person approached me – but the stares and looks were difficult to interpret and did unnerve me a bit.
As I mentioned before, nobody –and I mean nobody spoke English! If you do not speak some French it would be very difficult to survive in Morocco! Fortunately my high school and college French gave me enough base to get by and I just considered the adventure to be a 3-day immersion lesson in French. I could get by well at the hotel and restaurants but had difficulty with the taxi drivers-especially when I needed to explain that I just wanted them to drive/tour me around to explore certain areas of the city.
So Casablanca was a big disappointment! I couldn’t find Bogey or Ingrid or their ghosts re-igniting their passionate love affair. Casablanca is certainly not beautiful or romantic.
There is no ‘Rick’s Place’. And the friggen airport is 45 minutes from the city – nothing like the movie. I don’t know whom to be pissed off at the most –Hollywood or Casablanca?
But it’s not time to jump ship yet? The next day I decide to take a train to Rabat, the capital city of Morocco. It is about one hour north of Casablanca. On the way I stop off at a seaside resort town called Mohammedia that is supposedly a weekend retreat for the citizens of Casablanca. I walked around for about twenty minutes and then hired a min-taxi to drive me around for about 30 minutes to show me the beach (1 mile of nice beach with oil storage tanks at each end) and the golf course. In one hour I decide that the resort town is just a miniature version of Casablanca- filthy and slums! So it’s time to move on to Rabat after I pay the taxi driver 10 Dirhams ($1) for his 30-minute tour.
Upon arriving in Rabat I tried to find or buy a map of the city but could not find one. A helpful citizen suggested that I should go to the Ministere de Tourisme. Since Rabat is the capital all the government departments and buildings are located there. So I take a taxi to the Ministere. Are you ready? Not only did the Ministry of Tourism have no staff who could speak English, but also they had no maps or information for Rabat or even Morocco? And they are supposedly trying to make tourism the number 1 industry? Good luck- not in my lifetime! But you can’t keep a good man down so I found a large international hotel and surprisingly even a concierge whom spoke English and he gave me a map and information on what to see and do in Rabat.
So I spent the rest of the day visiting the tourist sites. Oudaia Kasbah, a 12th century fortress that has been converted into a residential quarter; the Medina, bigger and cleaner than the one in Casablanca and the Hassan Mosque and Tower and the Mausoleum of Mommmed V. He was the king who achieved independence for Morocco in 1956.
Rabat is smaller and cleaner than Casablanca especially in the section of the city where the government buildings are located.
My biggest dilemma at this point was that after two days I really hadn’t identified a site to accomplish my hidden agenda –to run a marathon in Morocco. I had considered going to the Ministere de Sports in Rabat and asking them for help but after my experience at the Tourism branch I figured that would be a waste of time.
So when I returned to Casablanca I stopped at the Hyatt Hotel and talked to the concierge (another person would spoke English) and asked his advice. He recommended an area called ‘Le Corniche’ that ran south along the Atlantic coast from the Grand Mosque. So I hired a mini-taxi to take me out along the Corniche and determined that it could work.
The next morning I started very early (5:30am) from my hotel. I carried three bottles of water with me to drop off at 20-minute intervals. It was only a mile from the hotel to the Mosque and when I reached it I met three army squads doing their morning run and ran with them for a few miles. After 5-6 miles I realized that the road continued further along the coast and decided to keep following it. I would prefer to run out 13 miles and then just turn around and head back if possible. Luckily I found a taverna open that early to buy 3 more bottles of water and continued out the road. Eventually the road turned inland to join the main highway south to El Jadida. There was very little traffic but I did have to share the dirt shoulder with some horse and donkey carts. Finally at 13 miles I turned around and headed back. By the time I hit Le Corniche on my return there were hundreds of local citizens out running and walking. Again the funny/curious stares. But then again I was dressed only in a flimsy T-shirt and shorts and they all wore sweats or jogging suits including hats and hoods. Some even wore gloves. I never did figure out why? Was the clothing to keep warm? (temps were in the mid-70s) -for modesty (the women maybe but the men too?) –or to prevent exposure to the sun?
And in spite of the stares many of them greeted me with a friendly nod and a “Bonjour – Ca va?” (Good morning-How’s it going?) That made me feel much more comfortable. So I continued to run easy and finish my Moroccan Marathon!
The rest of the day I toured around some other sections of Casablanca but just found more of the same old filth and poverty. I was not too disappointed to leave the next day. On the train to the airport I met a Moroccan who now lives in Montreal. He confirmed all my evaluations. They treat him just as bad or worse than tourists. They have no concept how to treat tourists or what good service is –and yes the country is filthy and poor! But he did indicate that Marrakesh is probably the best city for tourists and it is also the gateway to the Atlas Mountains and the Sahara Desert. That will have to be another time and trip.
Back to Gibraltar to catch my plane back to England.
But first I need to finish my tour of the Rock. I still haven’t been to the very top! So I take the Cable Car to the top for some magnificent views of Gibraltar, Spain and Africa. There is a nature reserve at the top with trails and roads leading to many other attractions. On the walk to St Michael’s Caves I experienced my first encounter with the world-famous Rock apes. In fact, these creatures are not apes at all, but a species of tail-less monkeys known as “Macaca sylvanus”. The locals were amazed that I had not heard of these ‘world-famous’ apes until just recently. I learned about the Rock in school but I must have missed the lesson on the apes? There is an interesting story associated with the apes – “the Churchill story”. On a visit to Gibraltar Sir Winston Churchill, on learning that their numbers were diminishing ordered that they be replenished. So the saying now goes “Gibraltar will cease to be British on the day that there are no apes left on the Rock”.
St Michael’s Caves are natural limestone caves that are huge and have such great acoustics that they have built a 500-seat concert hall within the caves. A concert must be a breathtaking experience with all the magnificent stalactites and stalagmites lit up with colored spotlights. Then it was on to the North face to explore the Great Siege Tunnels, a vast network of defensive tunnels excavated during the Great Siege of 1779-1783 (so they could shoot cannons down at the Spaniards approaching across the isthmus). In all there are over 33 miles of tunnels honeycombing the Rock. Most were excavated during WWII and are not open to the public yet.
On my final morning I do one last run up and down, around, over and through the Rock for nostalgia. Then I do my last minute shopping for some souvenirs and booze. Gibraltar is a tax and duty-free port so the prices are very good.
Upon arriving back at Gatwick I am surprised to find myself converged upon by two customs agents whom stick to me like fleas while they search my bag thoroughly and ask lots of questions such as “where have you been”, why do you travel so much”? I find this strange since I haven’t ever seen a customs agent during all my trips in and out of England the previous 10 months? Fortunately all they can find is a deranged marathoner and they send me on my way. Passport control must have noticed the Moroccan stamps in my passport?
And now finally(since I know you have been holding your breath)– the results of the ‘Europe contest’.
For those who submitted entries you have some idea of the difficulties entailed in determining the answer and probably want to know how I resolved those?
1) Europe/Asia border. Even most World Atlases don’t agree on the boundaries since some show countries such as Cyprus and Georgia in Europe. I finally consulted the National Geographic World Reference Book that clearly defines the boundary as accepted by most world laws.
2) Small sovereign states. There are many small states/countries such as Vatican City, Sam Marino and Andorra that can be easily missed. Fortunately I had noticed an article in USA Today listing them all.
3) Heritage/Politics. The most difficult! World Atlases depict the UK as a country. But believe me the citizens of England, Scotland and Wales and even other European countries recognize those countries as independent. They have their own governments and represent themselves in all world sports events (except the Olympics).
With these facts/assumptions in mind the correct answer is --- 47! The actual list of countries is attached for your reference.
The winner is---Nada Rutka with the correct answer of 47! I don’t know if she had the same countries but she had the right quantity. Congratulations!
Friday, March 03, 2000
TR Gibraltar
TRIP REPORT
Gibraltar, Spain, Gibraltar, Morocco, Gibraltar
03/02 –03/09/00
As I mentioned at the close of my last report the weather in England was still cold, rainy and generally miserable when we returned from Cyprus so I decided to head south again until the weather turned good. I am happy to report that the daffodils are now up and blooming, the blossoms are in bloom on the fruit trees and the temperatures are in the low 60s.
Where did I go? When I made my month-long sojourn last November through Spain, Portugal, etc I had wanted to visit Gibraltar but did not have time. So I decided to check out the Rock and perhaps have a quick look at Morocco while I was in the vicinity.
I was not disappointed in the Rock – it is a majestic sight jutting out into the Mediterranean Sea. What surprised me was how small the country is! The Rock is 3 miles long and ¾ miles wide with the highest point being 1396 feet. It has a total area of 2 ¼ square miles –the total country is only 4 square miles! The total population is only 30,000 that are a hodgepodge of English, Spaniards and Arabs. But the country is very definitely British!
Gibraltar has been visited since 950 BC but was not settled until about 414 AD. In 711 a Berber by the name of Tarik ibn Zeyad conquered the peninsula and the name Gibraltar is a corruption of the Arab words ‘Jebel Tarik’ (Tarik’s mountain). The Arabs and Spain fought over the Rock for centuries until England took control in 1704. And Spain has tried to get it back ever since and is still trying! The border with Spain is a very narrow isthmus. During WW II the British built an airport on this isthmus and reclaimed land from the sea. To get to Spain you must walk or drive across the airport runway!
There is very limited habitable land and that is all on the west side of the peninsula overlooking the Mediterranean Sea and Spain. The east side is basically sheer cliffs as the Rock rises straight out of the Sea. The main street of the town is a pedestrian mall about ¾ miles long. It gets very familiar quickly since you can walk it in 10 minutes. In fact you can walk to any point in the country within 45 minutes! And my hidden agenda was to run a marathon on Gibraltar! Gibraltar does not have an official marathon so I decided to exercise my rights and privileges as a member of the 50+ DC Club to set up my own course. Where possible, we are supposed to request assistance from a local running club but I could not find one. But I did contact the Director of the Gibraltar Sports Authority (government department) and met with her. She helped me lay out a course on a map that comprised the longest possible route around the country. She guessed it might be around 10K? She also told me that she was not aware of anyone who had run a marathon completely within the borders of Gibraltar.
Now it was time to check out the course for the inaugural ‘Maddog Gibraltar Marathon’. First problem. I need a car to drive and measure the course. There are only three rental agencies in the country and they all laughed at me when I said I needed a car for one day. They rent mainly to tourists flying into Gibraltar to drive to the Costa Del Sol in Spain so they rent for a minimum of 3 days and are booked weeks in advance. Next plan? Ummm! What is my next plan? I found an agency that rented bikes –motorbikes that is. Since I only drove a bike once in my life (through a neighbor’s flower patch after I lost control), I chose a powerful 50cc Moped. I had actually driven the kids’ Moped in Dallas ten years ago so figured I could handle that. So I set off with my new wheels. Next problem! The roads were laid out by the British for left-hand driving but Gibraltar converted to right-hand driving 12 years ago. Boy, does that ever make for some interesting intersections and ramps at the traffic circles. There were a few times that I would have had absolutely no clue which path to take if there hadn’t been another vehicle in front of me? But I was off to certify my course with my trusty Moped! Only 1 ½ miles into the course and another problem! They had sealed off a tunnel through the Rock where the road used to go? But I walk down to and along the beach and find the road on the other side. Just a slight detour! Now I must backtrack and rejoin the road on the other side and continue to the most southern point of the country that overlooks Africa. Then swing north again on the east side of the peninsula. Here a single lane road is cut into the sheer cliffs of the Rock and there is one long tunnel that climbs up into the Rock before opening out to a small fishing village called Catalan Bay. Final problem! The road is completely closed to traffic at this point because it is being rebuilt. Solution –cut down through a hotel property, along the beach and back up in the village to rejoin the road. Another slight detour! Now I have to go all the way around the country to get to that rejoin point and begin the measurement again. When it is all done I calculate that the course is 6.75 miles. Great! I only have to do this loop –FOUR TIMES!
Now that I have the course laid out and certified I spend the rest of the day walking around (took the Moped back before I killed myself on those roads!) and visiting some of the tourist attractions such as the 100 ton gun and several other defensive Batteries.
Saturday was M-Day so I got up early and started out on the marathon carrying three large bottles of water that I dropped off at 2-mile intervals. On the first loop I went counter-clockwise around the Rock and discovered that the three hills were much steeper in that direction so I switched directions for the next two loops. But on the final loop I felt strong and stupid and I decided that I could use some good hill work and reversed directions again. This put the steepest and toughest hill at the 24-mile mark! But since I was running easy and not competing against anyone or a clock the marathon was quite easy-and the scenery was fantastic! Now if anyone asks me if I have seen the Rock, I can reply “Not only have I seen it but I have run up and down, around, over and through it – FOUR TIMES!” I finished in 3:59:10!
After the marathon I decided to visit Spain. I considered visiting Marabella or Malaga on the Costa Del Sol but it was at least a 1-hour train or bus ride to those resort areas so instead I just walked across the border and caught a local bus into Algeciras. Algeciras is an industrial/port city across the bay from Gibraltar that serves as the major port between Africa and Europe. Ferries run between Algeciras and Tangiers and this is a major drug route into Europe! The minute that I crossed the border into Spain I was reminded what I didn’t like about Spain? I forgot to tell you about this little detail in my previous report on Spain. I think that every citizen of Spain owns at least two dogs and there are no laws or moral responsibility about cleaning up after them. So there are ‘messes’ everywhere – in the streets of Madrid, in the streets of Seville and at the border of Gibraltar! You really have to be careful where you walk in Spain! But the views of the Rock are great from Algeciras.
Another decision that I had to make was what to do with the remaining 4 days that I had planned for this trip? I decided that I wanted to check out Morocco in spite of many negative comments that I had heard from fellow travelers around Europe. So I went to a local travel agency and inquired what there was to do and see in Morocco. I ended up buying a 3-day package to Casablanca. Why Casablanca? Well if it was good enough for Bogey and Ingrid to have a passionate love affair in one of my all-time favorite movies, then it should be a great place to visit? And it is on the Atlantic coast so I was hoping (secret agenda again) that there might be a good place to run a marathon and mark Morocco off my list?
So I had a great dinner in Gibraltar and looked forward to my adventure the next day in Morocco.
That adventure will be continued in Part 2 along with the results of the ‘Europe” contest. See you then!
Gibraltar, Spain, Gibraltar, Morocco, Gibraltar
03/02 –03/09/00
As I mentioned at the close of my last report the weather in England was still cold, rainy and generally miserable when we returned from Cyprus so I decided to head south again until the weather turned good. I am happy to report that the daffodils are now up and blooming, the blossoms are in bloom on the fruit trees and the temperatures are in the low 60s.
Where did I go? When I made my month-long sojourn last November through Spain, Portugal, etc I had wanted to visit Gibraltar but did not have time. So I decided to check out the Rock and perhaps have a quick look at Morocco while I was in the vicinity.
I was not disappointed in the Rock – it is a majestic sight jutting out into the Mediterranean Sea. What surprised me was how small the country is! The Rock is 3 miles long and ¾ miles wide with the highest point being 1396 feet. It has a total area of 2 ¼ square miles –the total country is only 4 square miles! The total population is only 30,000 that are a hodgepodge of English, Spaniards and Arabs. But the country is very definitely British!
Gibraltar has been visited since 950 BC but was not settled until about 414 AD. In 711 a Berber by the name of Tarik ibn Zeyad conquered the peninsula and the name Gibraltar is a corruption of the Arab words ‘Jebel Tarik’ (Tarik’s mountain). The Arabs and Spain fought over the Rock for centuries until England took control in 1704. And Spain has tried to get it back ever since and is still trying! The border with Spain is a very narrow isthmus. During WW II the British built an airport on this isthmus and reclaimed land from the sea. To get to Spain you must walk or drive across the airport runway!
There is very limited habitable land and that is all on the west side of the peninsula overlooking the Mediterranean Sea and Spain. The east side is basically sheer cliffs as the Rock rises straight out of the Sea. The main street of the town is a pedestrian mall about ¾ miles long. It gets very familiar quickly since you can walk it in 10 minutes. In fact you can walk to any point in the country within 45 minutes! And my hidden agenda was to run a marathon on Gibraltar! Gibraltar does not have an official marathon so I decided to exercise my rights and privileges as a member of the 50+ DC Club to set up my own course. Where possible, we are supposed to request assistance from a local running club but I could not find one. But I did contact the Director of the Gibraltar Sports Authority (government department) and met with her. She helped me lay out a course on a map that comprised the longest possible route around the country. She guessed it might be around 10K? She also told me that she was not aware of anyone who had run a marathon completely within the borders of Gibraltar.
Now it was time to check out the course for the inaugural ‘Maddog Gibraltar Marathon’. First problem. I need a car to drive and measure the course. There are only three rental agencies in the country and they all laughed at me when I said I needed a car for one day. They rent mainly to tourists flying into Gibraltar to drive to the Costa Del Sol in Spain so they rent for a minimum of 3 days and are booked weeks in advance. Next plan? Ummm! What is my next plan? I found an agency that rented bikes –motorbikes that is. Since I only drove a bike once in my life (through a neighbor’s flower patch after I lost control), I chose a powerful 50cc Moped. I had actually driven the kids’ Moped in Dallas ten years ago so figured I could handle that. So I set off with my new wheels. Next problem! The roads were laid out by the British for left-hand driving but Gibraltar converted to right-hand driving 12 years ago. Boy, does that ever make for some interesting intersections and ramps at the traffic circles. There were a few times that I would have had absolutely no clue which path to take if there hadn’t been another vehicle in front of me? But I was off to certify my course with my trusty Moped! Only 1 ½ miles into the course and another problem! They had sealed off a tunnel through the Rock where the road used to go? But I walk down to and along the beach and find the road on the other side. Just a slight detour! Now I must backtrack and rejoin the road on the other side and continue to the most southern point of the country that overlooks Africa. Then swing north again on the east side of the peninsula. Here a single lane road is cut into the sheer cliffs of the Rock and there is one long tunnel that climbs up into the Rock before opening out to a small fishing village called Catalan Bay. Final problem! The road is completely closed to traffic at this point because it is being rebuilt. Solution –cut down through a hotel property, along the beach and back up in the village to rejoin the road. Another slight detour! Now I have to go all the way around the country to get to that rejoin point and begin the measurement again. When it is all done I calculate that the course is 6.75 miles. Great! I only have to do this loop –FOUR TIMES!
Now that I have the course laid out and certified I spend the rest of the day walking around (took the Moped back before I killed myself on those roads!) and visiting some of the tourist attractions such as the 100 ton gun and several other defensive Batteries.
Saturday was M-Day so I got up early and started out on the marathon carrying three large bottles of water that I dropped off at 2-mile intervals. On the first loop I went counter-clockwise around the Rock and discovered that the three hills were much steeper in that direction so I switched directions for the next two loops. But on the final loop I felt strong and stupid and I decided that I could use some good hill work and reversed directions again. This put the steepest and toughest hill at the 24-mile mark! But since I was running easy and not competing against anyone or a clock the marathon was quite easy-and the scenery was fantastic! Now if anyone asks me if I have seen the Rock, I can reply “Not only have I seen it but I have run up and down, around, over and through it – FOUR TIMES!” I finished in 3:59:10!
After the marathon I decided to visit Spain. I considered visiting Marabella or Malaga on the Costa Del Sol but it was at least a 1-hour train or bus ride to those resort areas so instead I just walked across the border and caught a local bus into Algeciras. Algeciras is an industrial/port city across the bay from Gibraltar that serves as the major port between Africa and Europe. Ferries run between Algeciras and Tangiers and this is a major drug route into Europe! The minute that I crossed the border into Spain I was reminded what I didn’t like about Spain? I forgot to tell you about this little detail in my previous report on Spain. I think that every citizen of Spain owns at least two dogs and there are no laws or moral responsibility about cleaning up after them. So there are ‘messes’ everywhere – in the streets of Madrid, in the streets of Seville and at the border of Gibraltar! You really have to be careful where you walk in Spain! But the views of the Rock are great from Algeciras.
Another decision that I had to make was what to do with the remaining 4 days that I had planned for this trip? I decided that I wanted to check out Morocco in spite of many negative comments that I had heard from fellow travelers around Europe. So I went to a local travel agency and inquired what there was to do and see in Morocco. I ended up buying a 3-day package to Casablanca. Why Casablanca? Well if it was good enough for Bogey and Ingrid to have a passionate love affair in one of my all-time favorite movies, then it should be a great place to visit? And it is on the Atlantic coast so I was hoping (secret agenda again) that there might be a good place to run a marathon and mark Morocco off my list?
So I had a great dinner in Gibraltar and looked forward to my adventure the next day in Morocco.
That adventure will be continued in Part 2 along with the results of the ‘Europe” contest. See you then!
Monday, February 28, 2000
TR Cyprus
TRIP REPORT
PAFOS Marathon
CYPRUS 2/24 – 2/28/00
Before I even start out on this trip I must take a minute to comment that for probably the first time in Europe I had a relatively easy time setting up this trip. The travel agency in Cyprus that worked with the marathon was professional and efficient and we only needed to exchange a few emails and faxes to set up the hotel, car and marathon entry. A few more calls and faxes to Cyprus Air and the trip was booked!
Why Cyprus? In case you hadn’t noticed I have been following the European Marathon Circuit and it moved south in the fall and has stayed south for the winter which is OK by me! But I have learned that the Mediterranean is not all that warm in the winter. It was cool in November and it was still cool last week in Cyprus; cool being high temperatures anywhere from the mid-40s to low 60s throughout that period. Many of the Mediterranean islands and resort areas are used as winter refuges by the Europeans but in my opinion I would go further south-to the Canary Islands, Madeira, etc. The weather is just not warm enough for my blood. Lido Key, Florida is looking really good to me now! It has as nice or nicer beaches that any I have seen in the Mediterranean, the water is just as blue and clear, it is a lot warmer and I can watch more than one TV channel in English. And most importantly I can follow the stock market in real time!
But the Mediterranean sure has lots of different cultures and interesting history! And Cyprus is no exception. Cyprus is the third largest of the Mediterranean islands (behind Sicily and Sardinia) and is considered to be at the crossroads of Europe, Asia and Africa since it is a short distance to all three. Geographically it is in Asia but politically it is aligned with Europe and has applied for membership into the EU. (More about this tidbit later).
It’s history goes back to the Neolithic Period, 5800 –3000 BC and it has been conquered and ruled by every major empire throughout history and there are remains of each of those empires still spread around the island. The British administered the island from 1878 to 1960 when it gained independence. The Turks invaded the island in 1974 and still occupy the northern one-third of the island. There is a buffer or neutral zone occupied by UN forces that runs right through the middle of Nicosia. We did not visit the Turkish-occupied territory because of the difficulties crossing over the border.
Cyprus has two major airports but due to limited flight schedules in the low season we had to fly into the Larnaka airport which is the northeast and drive over 100 miles to our resort hotel in Pafos which is in the southwest. Fortunately the road system was built by the British and the major roads are in good shape and of course you drive on the left side! And we did get to see a lot of the country and landscape during our drive. It looks like a typical Mediterranean Island. Rocky, rugged, hilly with sparse vegetation except where it is cultivated and irrigated. The mountains are quite high, over 6000 feet and there is even a ski resort at the top of Mount Olympus. There are many banana plantations, orange and lemon orchards along the coastal plains and hundreds of vineyards and wineries on the mountain slopes.
The high tourist season is May through September but many Brits and other Europeans spend the winter in Cyprus because of the weather. In the resort and tourist areas you almost feel like you are in England. Everyone speaks English, the menus, etc are in English, and you drive on the left side-etc! But when you go inland and up into the mountains the English quickly disappears and only Greek is spoken and all the signs are in Greek. The road maps are very poor –the local excuse is that they don’t want to publish good maps for fear that the Turks will use them in another invasion? So when you get lost which is often you have to ask a local whom doesn’t speak English for directions. It’s lots of fun.
The marathon host hotel was a 5-star resort hotel in Coral Bay –and it truly was a 5-star destination resort with spa, etc. We had a great room with a patio overlooking the Mediterranean Sea with breakfast for two for $75/night. But that rate quadruples in the high season along with the number of tourists. Cyprus is not cheap! The prices are equivalent to US prices which are cheap compared to England or France but 50% higher than comparable resorts in Spain or Portugal. Nicole kept comparing Cyprus to Mallorca and said that she preferred Cyprus because it wasn’t quite as overrun with British tourists and there was much more local culture evident. But if you were only interested in a warm (or less cold) place to spend the winter I would go to Mallorca since it is much cheaper.
But now it is time to tour the island! There are literally hundreds of historical sites spread around the island so we could only hit the main ones. And we also wanted to enjoy some of the local culture. So we headed first into Pafos. Nea or New Pafos consists of the old town center of Ktima, 3km up the hill and Kato Pafos, -the harbor, archeological zone and hotel strip along the sea. The old town center has the market where we quickly picked up the necessary souvenirs and then headed down to the harbor. The harbor is the same one used by all the past civilizations and a very large archeological zone has been established in this area to prevent development over the sites of many ancient civilizations. They are still uncovering ancient Greek and Roman settlements. There are several Roman houses (built in the late 2nd century AD) that have been unearthed that contain very beautiful mosaics that are in good condition and still have their original colors and designs. Close by are the Tombs of the Kings, tombs carved into limestone outcrops in the 3rd century BC. Since there were no kings in Cyprus during that period they speculate that the tombs were for the rich and privileged classes of that time. They are similar to the tombs in Egypt but not as spectacular. Also in the same area are the Pafos Castle (1391) and the Saranda Kolones fortress (1222).
Then it was time to head further west towards the Akamas Peninsula, a natural and still undeveloped part of the island. After passing through the small fishing village of Latchi we parked and walked to the Loutra tis Afrodhitis –‘The Baths of Aphrodite’. In legend the goddess retired here to bathe before (and after) entertaining assorted lovers. Another legend states that if you are ‘pure and innocent’ and are splashed by the water from the Baths you will be transformed into a beautiful young nymph! I scooped up several handfuls of water and splashed Nicole but for some reason the magic spell didn’t work! But I’m telling you that I am now very popular with the boys in the changing room at the clubhouse. And Nicole is having fun teaching me how to coordinate my silk and lace underwear with my mini-skirts and see-through blouses. But I do have one question for the female readers of this newsletter. How the hell do I fasten this damn bra at the back???
But now it was time to explore the mountains of Cyprus and “Go where no tourist has gone before”. So we set off to find an old abandoned monastery on top of a mountain that had no paved roads to it! When we got to the end of the paved roads we got lost quickly and asked a farmer for directions and paid attention to the first 2 or 3 hand motions indicating turns, etc. We quickly found ourselves at the end of the good dirt road and on a 4x4 track going up the mountain –and we only had a Honda Civic! We made it over the first mountain and down the other side (after almost taking the bottom out of the car several times) before we came to a stream. At that point we wisely decided that the only course open was to retreat from whence we came! On the way back Nicole had to get out several times to move boulders of the track so we could make it back to civilization safely. Having got the ‘back-country exploration bug’ out of our system we then followed the paved roads around the mountain and up the Troodhos Mountains to the small mountain village of Panayai. We stopped at a café and enjoyed a wonderful local meal of stewed lamb washed down with a great red wine from the local winery. All-in-all it was a good day! But it was time to head back to Pafos and carbo-load for the race the next day.
Sunday. M-day! The race started in front of the Pafos castle at the harbor, ran north past the Catacombs of Ayia Solomoni, then turned west and ran up and down the hills along the coastal road to the Sea Caves at the start of the Akamas Peninsula where we had to climb a very steep hill. A few more miles, then turn around and retrace the route. The ‘gentle rolling hills’ described in the race brochure seemed like ‘big-ass mountains’ on the way back. Also race morning was the warmest day we had with temps hitting the mid-60s but fortunately they had water every two miles, which is unusual for a European race. I ran a much smarter race and kept the pace smooth and easy and did not really have any trouble but still hurt like hell the last 6 km. But I was much happier with my performance and time (3:48:37) and believe that my injury problems with the right hamstring are now behind me. Now I start the slow painful process of getting back in race-shape. It always amazes me how quickly and easy the conditioning goes and how hard and slowly it comes back? But nobody said life was fair?
We had planned to do some more touring after the race but the weather turned cool and started to drizzle in the afternoon so we found a nice café overlooking the harbor and sipped wine for the afternoon. I realized that I had made reservations and prepaid for the ‘Gala Celebration Dinner’ at the hotel. What a mistake! I won’t do that again and recommend that you pass also if you are offered such an opportunity. The meal was the typical bland buffet followed by some local musicians and dancers. Yuk! We could have had a great steak dinner for the same price!
The following day was time to leave but we still had lots to see. Fortunately most of the remaining tourist attractions were between Pafos and Lanarka. So we left early and planned our route to stop at Aphrodite’s Birthplace, The Tombs of the Kings, and several Graeco-Roman ruins in the Limassol area. One of the more interesting sites is a Graeco-Roman Theatre originally built in the 2nd century BC that is now fully restored and used for musical and theatrical performances. We also visited the Sanctuary of ApolloYlatis, the God of the Woodland, built circa 800 BC. Then it was time for a lunch break in Limassol, a large tourist resort area (yuk! too big, too much concrete, too many tourists).
But we did get to experience a Meze meal. This consists of 20 to 30 plates of appetizers or Greek finger food served with various dips. It just keeps coming and coming! Be forewarned and be hungry because it tastes great!
Our final stops were at the Kolssi Castle (13th century) and then the Neolithic ruins at Choirokoitia. The latter is an UNESCO World Heritage Site. It is a settlement of inhabitants from the Neolithic Age (5800 –3000 BC). The foundations and walls of their round stone huts are unearthed and a few replicas have be built to show what they looked like. I found it very interesting since I was able to compare it to the Neolithic Temples that I had visited in Malta.
To summarize, Cyprus has many interesting things to offer a visitor. Five days were not enough to explore it in detail. One to two weeks is needed. If you want beach weather you have to go in the high season but I would recommend early or late to beat the crowds and prices. It is clean, safe and friendly!
Before I close I want to revisit the tidbit I left you with in the opening paragraphs. Is Cyprus in Europe or Asia? The answer is Asia. But what brought the question up to me was the bigger question “how many countries are there in Europe”? This is not an easy question. I have asked several Europeans and none know off the top of their head. And when they start to figure it out it becomes complex because of countries like Cyprus. When I researched the question I found that some World Atlases showed Cyprus in Europe while others showed it in Asia? And there are many other countries in similar question.
I believe after extensive research that I now have a correct answer. But I wish to present a similar challenge to my readers. And I am offering a prize or reward for your efforts. The first person to provide the correct answer to the question “how many countries are there in Europe” will win a bottle of European wine (probably French).
If nobody gets the correct answer then the closest (and first if there is a tie) will win!
What’s the deadline? I am leaving on Thursday for another trip to Southern Europe and Africa (still too damn cold, windy and rainy here!). I tentatively return on March 10th and will publish the correct answer and winner in that trip report.
Good luck to all!
PAFOS Marathon
CYPRUS 2/24 – 2/28/00
Before I even start out on this trip I must take a minute to comment that for probably the first time in Europe I had a relatively easy time setting up this trip. The travel agency in Cyprus that worked with the marathon was professional and efficient and we only needed to exchange a few emails and faxes to set up the hotel, car and marathon entry. A few more calls and faxes to Cyprus Air and the trip was booked!
Why Cyprus? In case you hadn’t noticed I have been following the European Marathon Circuit and it moved south in the fall and has stayed south for the winter which is OK by me! But I have learned that the Mediterranean is not all that warm in the winter. It was cool in November and it was still cool last week in Cyprus; cool being high temperatures anywhere from the mid-40s to low 60s throughout that period. Many of the Mediterranean islands and resort areas are used as winter refuges by the Europeans but in my opinion I would go further south-to the Canary Islands, Madeira, etc. The weather is just not warm enough for my blood. Lido Key, Florida is looking really good to me now! It has as nice or nicer beaches that any I have seen in the Mediterranean, the water is just as blue and clear, it is a lot warmer and I can watch more than one TV channel in English. And most importantly I can follow the stock market in real time!
But the Mediterranean sure has lots of different cultures and interesting history! And Cyprus is no exception. Cyprus is the third largest of the Mediterranean islands (behind Sicily and Sardinia) and is considered to be at the crossroads of Europe, Asia and Africa since it is a short distance to all three. Geographically it is in Asia but politically it is aligned with Europe and has applied for membership into the EU. (More about this tidbit later).
It’s history goes back to the Neolithic Period, 5800 –3000 BC and it has been conquered and ruled by every major empire throughout history and there are remains of each of those empires still spread around the island. The British administered the island from 1878 to 1960 when it gained independence. The Turks invaded the island in 1974 and still occupy the northern one-third of the island. There is a buffer or neutral zone occupied by UN forces that runs right through the middle of Nicosia. We did not visit the Turkish-occupied territory because of the difficulties crossing over the border.
Cyprus has two major airports but due to limited flight schedules in the low season we had to fly into the Larnaka airport which is the northeast and drive over 100 miles to our resort hotel in Pafos which is in the southwest. Fortunately the road system was built by the British and the major roads are in good shape and of course you drive on the left side! And we did get to see a lot of the country and landscape during our drive. It looks like a typical Mediterranean Island. Rocky, rugged, hilly with sparse vegetation except where it is cultivated and irrigated. The mountains are quite high, over 6000 feet and there is even a ski resort at the top of Mount Olympus. There are many banana plantations, orange and lemon orchards along the coastal plains and hundreds of vineyards and wineries on the mountain slopes.
The high tourist season is May through September but many Brits and other Europeans spend the winter in Cyprus because of the weather. In the resort and tourist areas you almost feel like you are in England. Everyone speaks English, the menus, etc are in English, and you drive on the left side-etc! But when you go inland and up into the mountains the English quickly disappears and only Greek is spoken and all the signs are in Greek. The road maps are very poor –the local excuse is that they don’t want to publish good maps for fear that the Turks will use them in another invasion? So when you get lost which is often you have to ask a local whom doesn’t speak English for directions. It’s lots of fun.
The marathon host hotel was a 5-star resort hotel in Coral Bay –and it truly was a 5-star destination resort with spa, etc. We had a great room with a patio overlooking the Mediterranean Sea with breakfast for two for $75/night. But that rate quadruples in the high season along with the number of tourists. Cyprus is not cheap! The prices are equivalent to US prices which are cheap compared to England or France but 50% higher than comparable resorts in Spain or Portugal. Nicole kept comparing Cyprus to Mallorca and said that she preferred Cyprus because it wasn’t quite as overrun with British tourists and there was much more local culture evident. But if you were only interested in a warm (or less cold) place to spend the winter I would go to Mallorca since it is much cheaper.
But now it is time to tour the island! There are literally hundreds of historical sites spread around the island so we could only hit the main ones. And we also wanted to enjoy some of the local culture. So we headed first into Pafos. Nea or New Pafos consists of the old town center of Ktima, 3km up the hill and Kato Pafos, -the harbor, archeological zone and hotel strip along the sea. The old town center has the market where we quickly picked up the necessary souvenirs and then headed down to the harbor. The harbor is the same one used by all the past civilizations and a very large archeological zone has been established in this area to prevent development over the sites of many ancient civilizations. They are still uncovering ancient Greek and Roman settlements. There are several Roman houses (built in the late 2nd century AD) that have been unearthed that contain very beautiful mosaics that are in good condition and still have their original colors and designs. Close by are the Tombs of the Kings, tombs carved into limestone outcrops in the 3rd century BC. Since there were no kings in Cyprus during that period they speculate that the tombs were for the rich and privileged classes of that time. They are similar to the tombs in Egypt but not as spectacular. Also in the same area are the Pafos Castle (1391) and the Saranda Kolones fortress (1222).
Then it was time to head further west towards the Akamas Peninsula, a natural and still undeveloped part of the island. After passing through the small fishing village of Latchi we parked and walked to the Loutra tis Afrodhitis –‘The Baths of Aphrodite’. In legend the goddess retired here to bathe before (and after) entertaining assorted lovers. Another legend states that if you are ‘pure and innocent’ and are splashed by the water from the Baths you will be transformed into a beautiful young nymph! I scooped up several handfuls of water and splashed Nicole but for some reason the magic spell didn’t work! But I’m telling you that I am now very popular with the boys in the changing room at the clubhouse. And Nicole is having fun teaching me how to coordinate my silk and lace underwear with my mini-skirts and see-through blouses. But I do have one question for the female readers of this newsletter. How the hell do I fasten this damn bra at the back???
But now it was time to explore the mountains of Cyprus and “Go where no tourist has gone before”. So we set off to find an old abandoned monastery on top of a mountain that had no paved roads to it! When we got to the end of the paved roads we got lost quickly and asked a farmer for directions and paid attention to the first 2 or 3 hand motions indicating turns, etc. We quickly found ourselves at the end of the good dirt road and on a 4x4 track going up the mountain –and we only had a Honda Civic! We made it over the first mountain and down the other side (after almost taking the bottom out of the car several times) before we came to a stream. At that point we wisely decided that the only course open was to retreat from whence we came! On the way back Nicole had to get out several times to move boulders of the track so we could make it back to civilization safely. Having got the ‘back-country exploration bug’ out of our system we then followed the paved roads around the mountain and up the Troodhos Mountains to the small mountain village of Panayai. We stopped at a café and enjoyed a wonderful local meal of stewed lamb washed down with a great red wine from the local winery. All-in-all it was a good day! But it was time to head back to Pafos and carbo-load for the race the next day.
Sunday. M-day! The race started in front of the Pafos castle at the harbor, ran north past the Catacombs of Ayia Solomoni, then turned west and ran up and down the hills along the coastal road to the Sea Caves at the start of the Akamas Peninsula where we had to climb a very steep hill. A few more miles, then turn around and retrace the route. The ‘gentle rolling hills’ described in the race brochure seemed like ‘big-ass mountains’ on the way back. Also race morning was the warmest day we had with temps hitting the mid-60s but fortunately they had water every two miles, which is unusual for a European race. I ran a much smarter race and kept the pace smooth and easy and did not really have any trouble but still hurt like hell the last 6 km. But I was much happier with my performance and time (3:48:37) and believe that my injury problems with the right hamstring are now behind me. Now I start the slow painful process of getting back in race-shape. It always amazes me how quickly and easy the conditioning goes and how hard and slowly it comes back? But nobody said life was fair?
We had planned to do some more touring after the race but the weather turned cool and started to drizzle in the afternoon so we found a nice café overlooking the harbor and sipped wine for the afternoon. I realized that I had made reservations and prepaid for the ‘Gala Celebration Dinner’ at the hotel. What a mistake! I won’t do that again and recommend that you pass also if you are offered such an opportunity. The meal was the typical bland buffet followed by some local musicians and dancers. Yuk! We could have had a great steak dinner for the same price!
The following day was time to leave but we still had lots to see. Fortunately most of the remaining tourist attractions were between Pafos and Lanarka. So we left early and planned our route to stop at Aphrodite’s Birthplace, The Tombs of the Kings, and several Graeco-Roman ruins in the Limassol area. One of the more interesting sites is a Graeco-Roman Theatre originally built in the 2nd century BC that is now fully restored and used for musical and theatrical performances. We also visited the Sanctuary of ApolloYlatis, the God of the Woodland, built circa 800 BC. Then it was time for a lunch break in Limassol, a large tourist resort area (yuk! too big, too much concrete, too many tourists).
But we did get to experience a Meze meal. This consists of 20 to 30 plates of appetizers or Greek finger food served with various dips. It just keeps coming and coming! Be forewarned and be hungry because it tastes great!
Our final stops were at the Kolssi Castle (13th century) and then the Neolithic ruins at Choirokoitia. The latter is an UNESCO World Heritage Site. It is a settlement of inhabitants from the Neolithic Age (5800 –3000 BC). The foundations and walls of their round stone huts are unearthed and a few replicas have be built to show what they looked like. I found it very interesting since I was able to compare it to the Neolithic Temples that I had visited in Malta.
To summarize, Cyprus has many interesting things to offer a visitor. Five days were not enough to explore it in detail. One to two weeks is needed. If you want beach weather you have to go in the high season but I would recommend early or late to beat the crowds and prices. It is clean, safe and friendly!
Before I close I want to revisit the tidbit I left you with in the opening paragraphs. Is Cyprus in Europe or Asia? The answer is Asia. But what brought the question up to me was the bigger question “how many countries are there in Europe”? This is not an easy question. I have asked several Europeans and none know off the top of their head. And when they start to figure it out it becomes complex because of countries like Cyprus. When I researched the question I found that some World Atlases showed Cyprus in Europe while others showed it in Asia? And there are many other countries in similar question.
I believe after extensive research that I now have a correct answer. But I wish to present a similar challenge to my readers. And I am offering a prize or reward for your efforts. The first person to provide the correct answer to the question “how many countries are there in Europe” will win a bottle of European wine (probably French).
If nobody gets the correct answer then the closest (and first if there is a tie) will win!
What’s the deadline? I am leaving on Thursday for another trip to Southern Europe and Africa (still too damn cold, windy and rainy here!). I tentatively return on March 10th and will publish the correct answer and winner in that trip report.
Good luck to all!
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