Extracts from a letter written by dad about his trip to Europe in 1983. My mother died the year before after a lengthy illness. He had kept her at home and cared for her to the end and was worn out and depressed. A year had passed and Irene and I decided that it was time for him to visit Europe. I think you will agree as you read this that his powers of observation, his memory and ability to relate what he saw to history and past experiences was quite remarkable for someone of any age. The following are excerpts from his unedited writings.
Irene and Don decided that a few weeks overseas would brighten my declining years and my daughters applied the pressure. I reluctantly decided to go. Don and Irene would guard me from misadventures of every sort.
Irene went a week ahead of me to visit her mother (in Germany) and rented a new Citroen car. A close friend of hers, Linda Smith, an Air Canada hostess took me by the hand on April 6th 1983. Recognizing that that an old fellow of 89 could be similar to a young lad of 9, I looked with a bit of thrill at the snatches of country, towns, cities of Europe far down below the aircraft between the clouds until we landed in Frankfurt. There Linda guided me through the vast airport and satisfied the inspectors that I was not as villainous as my passport photograph intimated. Irene Was waiting at the gate with the car and we set off on a 60 mile drive South-Easterly to Munchberg in the hills across the main valley.
Driving in Toronto I used to get a kick out of the frantic pace and crowded roadway of 401 and Don Valley Parkway, but now I bow to the volume and speed of German Traffic; little cars, big cars and really big transports all raced madly with us and beyond us.One of my first impressions was that we of North America aren't the fastest of Earth's people. The I noticed we were driving through a very nice looking forest of merchantable trees. There they grew in long regular ranks such as I had not seen for at least 60 years .. and thought of our folly in forest care. Later I saw a forest of pines in Corsica that would make a Canadian lumberman gasp. I did.
Next I was seeing green and yellow fields, unmarked by fences, stretching out and up the hillsides, nestling here and there a village of chiefly yellow stucco faced houses with red tile roofs. A pleasing site. Finally we went off the autobahn ..and passed through some of these villages with the narrow, really narrow streets winding winding crazily between homes so that a car must use the sidewalk and the sidewalk may be less than two feet wide, but all looked serene, clean and restful. I realized I was liking it. Then we began to pass the land of vineyards; the terraced vineyards up the sloping hills.if there is anything that I saw in Europe that is number one of my impressions it is the vineyards; the thousands of acres of vneyards; the intensity of the industry based on grapes.
Then after crossing the river Main, up in the hills we came to the old village of Monechberg on the edge of which is a modern house where Irene's mother lived. As Irene and Linda shared the spare room, I was put up at a modern neighbouring hostel with every convenience. That afternoon I was taken to the district castle, strategically located with a water-filled moat in which swam swarms of lovely looking trout. The castle layout absolutely blocked the entrance the entrance to valley and for centuries the personnel did control the land and the people. It is now an armitage museum full of old suits of armour and tools of war like battle axes, spears, arrows etc etc plus furniture, pictures, tapestries and trophies. That evening we went to the very old village inn for dinner, a meal rivalling an old time Christmas dinner served up in a high class city hotel.
Next morning we drove to Miltenberg on the river Main. .. The old section is the principal commercial section and is a charming place of winding narrow streets some struggling up the hillside using steps. The section is replete with fine stores in old building and almost all brighten the premise with fresh flowers. Except for dining places, all businesses places lock the doors between twelve noon and 2PM . A recess for sociable eating and relaxation a a leisurely pace.. The came a drive around the district and an evening in an old mill at Moenchberg to have another fine meal and wine. Just as we were entering the Inn Lucy, Irene's mother said to me "come" and we went around the corner where she opened the door in a stone wall to disclose a startling display of ..graves ablaze with flowers. Each grave stone was somewhat similar to its neighbour. I could not see where another internment could me made. Answering my inquiry she told me some old graves could be used again.Grave space was rented, not bought for eternity. One Leased a grave for twenty years: the lease could be renewed but if not it was available to a new tenant. Her second husband was there. No waste in Germany.
Next Day we went to Weisbaden to visit the Macht family who had kept Irene safe for almot two years during the war. I had met them during their visit to Don and Irene and their reception to me was a warm one. While the women visited Peter Macht and I took a drive for a couple of hours. The a gracious evening and night in their lovely home. The next day Irene took me for a day of seeing Weisbaden starting from the cathedral on a high hill situated in a large park that reminded me of Mount Royal in Montreal. Weisbaden is a show city with lovely large public buildings and beautiful residences. The downtown area is centred on a park where hot springs abound ....As a result the ground is warm and Weisbaden is a flower garden for most of the year. We wound up the day by crossing the Rhine through an industrial area. Mainz was heavily bombed during the war and
reconstruction is still proceeding. The cathedral was hardly touched and I found it very interesting in both appearance and history:
Tuesday more site seeing over quite an area and observed that the sidewalks and roads are clean. The householders scrub them with soapy water and brooms and no debris of any sort lies visible.
Irene and Don decided that a few weeks overseas would brighten my declining years and my daughters applied the pressure. I reluctantly decided to go. Don and Irene would guard me from misadventures of every sort.
Irene went a week ahead of me to visit her mother (in Germany) and rented a new Citroen car. A close friend of hers, Linda Smith, an Air Canada hostess took me by the hand on April 6th 1983. Recognizing that that an old fellow of 89 could be similar to a young lad of 9, I looked with a bit of thrill at the snatches of country, towns, cities of Europe far down below the aircraft between the clouds until we landed in Frankfurt. There Linda guided me through the vast airport and satisfied the inspectors that I was not as villainous as my passport photograph intimated. Irene Was waiting at the gate with the car and we set off on a 60 mile drive South-Easterly to Munchberg in the hills across the main valley.
Driving in Toronto I used to get a kick out of the frantic pace and crowded roadway of 401 and Don Valley Parkway, but now I bow to the volume and speed of German Traffic; little cars, big cars and really big transports all raced madly with us and beyond us.One of my first impressions was that we of North America aren't the fastest of Earth's people. The I noticed we were driving through a very nice looking forest of merchantable trees. There they grew in long regular ranks such as I had not seen for at least 60 years .. and thought of our folly in forest care. Later I saw a forest of pines in Corsica that would make a Canadian lumberman gasp. I did.
Next I was seeing green and yellow fields, unmarked by fences, stretching out and up the hillsides, nestling here and there a village of chiefly yellow stucco faced houses with red tile roofs. A pleasing site. Finally we went off the autobahn ..and passed through some of these villages with the narrow, really narrow streets winding winding crazily between homes so that a car must use the sidewalk and the sidewalk may be less than two feet wide, but all looked serene, clean and restful. I realized I was liking it. Then we began to pass the land of vineyards; the terraced vineyards up the sloping hills.if there is anything that I saw in Europe that is number one of my impressions it is the vineyards; the thousands of acres of vneyards; the intensity of the industry based on grapes.
Then after crossing the river Main, up in the hills we came to the old village of Monechberg on the edge of which is a modern house where Irene's mother lived. As Irene and Linda shared the spare room, I was put up at a modern neighbouring hostel with every convenience. That afternoon I was taken to the district castle, strategically located with a water-filled moat in which swam swarms of lovely looking trout. The castle layout absolutely blocked the entrance the entrance to valley and for centuries the personnel did control the land and the people. It is now an armitage museum full of old suits of armour and tools of war like battle axes, spears, arrows etc etc plus furniture, pictures, tapestries and trophies. That evening we went to the very old village inn for dinner, a meal rivalling an old time Christmas dinner served up in a high class city hotel.
Next Day we went to Weisbaden to visit the Macht family who had kept Irene safe for almot two years during the war. I had met them during their visit to Don and Irene and their reception to me was a warm one. While the women visited Peter Macht and I took a drive for a couple of hours. The a gracious evening and night in their lovely home. The next day Irene took me for a day of seeing Weisbaden starting from the cathedral on a high hill situated in a large park that reminded me of Mount Royal in Montreal. Weisbaden is a show city with lovely large public buildings and beautiful residences. The downtown area is centred on a park where hot springs abound ....As a result the ground is warm and Weisbaden is a flower garden for most of the year. We wound up the day by crossing the Rhine through an industrial area. Mainz was heavily bombed during the war and
reconstruction is still proceeding. The cathedral was hardly touched and I found it very interesting in both appearance and history: Tuesday more site seeing over quite an area and observed that the sidewalks and roads are clean. The householders scrub them with soapy water and brooms and no debris of any sort lies visible.
