My first trip to Europe was in 2004, and it sparked my interest in travel. Since then, I have been to 16 foreign countries and want only to be able to travel for a living.
This blog is taking a backseat to what I am now doing. Though I will try to continue to add posts in line with my previous ones in this blog, I am going to focus more on my new blog, about living in Paris: La Vie Parisienne. (theparisianlife.blogspot.com).
The new blog will focus exclusively on Paris and the travels I make using Paris as a base (planned trips include Bordeau, Normandy, Switzerland and Munich - for Oktoberfest).
Check it out - it will be in a more compressed form and will have more photos.
Nothing symbolizes the horror and brutality of World War I for the French more than Verdun.
During the 10-month battle in 1916, French losses were estimated at about 400,000 killed, wounded and missing. German losses were less, at about 350,000, though estimates vary.
The soldiers lived like rats in trenches, constantly enduring enemy artillery fire and attacks. Even sending messages was dangerous, as couriers had an extremely short life expectancy. If they weren't killed by enemy artillery, poison gas, sniper fire or bayonets, the soldiers suffered from illnesses, fatigue and what we would today call shell shock.
Despite how horrific a place Verdun was, I still wanted to visit the battlefield. Understanding the French experience in World War I makes it clear why the country fell so fast in World War II, when much of the population thought that living under German occupation would be a far smaller price to pay than another war, since World War I left one in three French men between 17 and 33 dead. The town itself is easy to find and is relatively close to Nancy. If you are, like me, interested in history, then Verdun is a must. The town has always been a fortress city, and the Germans and French have fought over it several times.
One interesting aspect of Verdun's history revolves around two French soldiers who served there - Charles de Gaulle and Philippe Petain. Petain was considered the hero of Verdun, and he commanded the French forces there for much of the battle. De Gaulle, who was inspired by Petain long before the battle, was captured at Verdun. Petain would later collaborate with the Germans in World War II and be a figurehead for the Vichy French government while de Gaulle would lead the Free French forces during World War II and emerge a hero, famously marching down the main boulevards of Paris when the city was liberated in 1944 before German snipers had been cleared out.
When I arrived in Verdun, it was cloudy, and the recent rain had stopped. After passing through the fortified gate that guards one end of a bridge over the Meuse River, I came to the visitor center, which was unfortunately closed.
A map near the visitor center showed the way to many of the sites, and after looking at statues and memorials in the center of town, I hopped in my car and drove to Fort Vaux, Fort Douaumont and the iconic Ossuaire.
Forts Vaux and Douaumont played key roles in the battle, and both were taken by the Germans, then retaken by the French. Each is worth a post in its own right, so I'll save that for later.
Wandering the battlefield is possible, but signs warn visitors to stay on the paths. Essentially, they all sum up the same thing: The weapons used in 1916 are still in the ground, and they can kill you just as easily today as they could 90 years ago.
What was once a war-torn moonscape dotted with shattered tree stumps is once again peppered with woods. Between the tree trunks, the reminders of the war are still visible - earth cratered from artillery shells, half-filled-in trenches where men used to live and concrete gun positions that have long since had their weapons removed.
Reaching the Ossuaire, in front of which about 15,000 French soldiers are buried, I was struck by the fact that this plays such an important role in French history, and I don't even remember it being mentioned in my history classes in America - and I have a minor in history from a university.
"Shells of all caliber kept raining in our sector. The trenches had disappeared, filled with earth. The air was unbreathable. Our blinded, wounded, crawling and shouting soldiers kept falling on top of us and died splashing us with their blood. It was living hell." - A French infantryman.
The second quote is from a German soldier at Verdun: "Verdun transformed men's souls. Whoever floundered through this mass full of the shrieking and dying had passed the last frontier of life and thus bore deep within him the leaden memory of a place that lies between life and death."
The soldiers of both sides experienced hell at Verdun, and the huge Ossuaire, though open to the public and containing displays, is the final resting place of some 130,000 soldiers from both sides who were unable to be identified. A tower rising from the middle of the Ossuaire is styled in the shape of an artillery shell, and on the way to the top, visitors can see mannequins dressed in period uniforms as well as some of the weaponry used.
The top of the tower affords a view of the battlefield that can't be had anywhere else. At the base of the tower, visitors can watch a short film that explains the reason for the war and the battle itself along with the stupidity - and there's really no other word for it - of that particular conflict.
The last place I stopped was at one of the communication trenches. With its moss-covered, rotting timbers still in place, I could just imagine the hundreds of men who must have passed through it. Communication trenches connected the various trench lines and allowed men to move between them without as much risk of being spotted by the enemy. They almost always moved at night, and the only guidance a man had was to stay close to the man in front of him. There were countless instances of units getting lost, then finding themselves on exposed ground at dawn, where alert artillery observers saw them. Within minutes, they would be shelled and killed.
Verdun, or any battlefield, for that matter, is not the place to go if you want to experience the joie de vivre for which France is so famous. If you want to understand France, and especially its role in the 20th century, however, I think Verdun is a place that must be visited, or at least understood.
A soldier killed Nov. 9, 1918. For him, the armistice came two days too late.
If you're interested about the battle of Verdun, I recommend Alistair Horne's "The Price of Glory: Verdun, 1916." Written in the 1960s, Horne - a British historian - tends to editorialize a little bit, but the book provides a good explanation for the battle without expecting a lot of prior knowledge of the war.
This is typical of the small German towns along the Romantic Road in Bavaria. Rottinger doesn't even warrant a mention in most guidebooks, and there's not a whole lot to do other than wander around, but if you have a car, it's fun to stop and see a little bit of what "real" German life is like, as opposed to the touristy areas right next to the train stations.
We all hate jet lag, but rather than write a post complaining about it (really, Sacramento to Rome in 14 hours is not worth complaining about), I will share what has (and hasn't) worked for me.
I'll get the one you'll hate me for out of the way first. The single best experience I've had on an airline was when I got bumped to first class for a flight from Toronto to Rome on a brand-new Air Canada plane and slept like a baby for the entire flight, except when I was tossing back complimentary beers. You can read about that here.
The London Eye Ferris wheel seen from a hop-on/hop-off bus my first time in Europe, when I was trying to deal with jet lag.
Suffice to say that when I got to Rome around midmorning, I was ready to go and almost completely unaffected by jet lag.
Another time I did fairly well with jet lag was when I flew to India, leaving Sacramento at five or six in the morning and arriving in Mumbai (Bombay) about 10 or 11 p.m. (local time, which was about 13 hours' difference). I did not sleep on the flight over, but I was out when I laid down in my hotel room, and I woke up at about 8 a.m. the next day. My sleep schedule was a little messed up for the next three days, as I kept waking up before dawn, but it wasn't so bad.
The best way to deal with jet lag is to stay awake until it is time to sleep wherever you are. On my first trip to Europe, I didn't think that would be too difficult.
Flying to London from the states, the sun never set, though night passed (the fun of flying so far north in summer).
I arrived in London, stood in a long and excruciatingly slow customs line at Heathrow, then dropped my bags at my hotel. I honestly can't remember what I did that first day, other than wander around a bit and try to keep from imitating their accents.
One thing I do know was that I took one of the open-top, hop-on/hop-off bus tours (which I highly recommend, by the way). The photo at the top of this post was taken from that bus, but it was pushing 6 p.m. in London and I had been awake for about 28 hours without really having slept more than a few hours the previous night.
I remember trying to stay awake as the bus lolled along in traffic, and the next thing I knew, I was swearing at the completely unexpected pain in my forehead. Apparently, I had nodded off and let my face fall forward to smack the metal rail on the seat in front of me.
Jet lag affects everyone differently, and the rule of thumb is that for every hour you miss, it will take you one day to adjust. Therefore, on a trip from California to Europe, expect a nine-day adjustment time. I have found that I usually adjust in about four or five days, as long as I stay awake as long as possible when I arrive.
If you can sleep on the plane, do it. I'm somewhat unfortunate in that I can't ever seem to sleep on planes, except the time I flew first class.
Do not get to your hotel at one in the afternoon and settle in for "just a little nap." It ends up throwing you completely for a loop.
On my last trip to Europe, I took advantage of the fact that I was waking up at 5 a.m. in Pragua and not being able to sleep. I went out and explored the city at an hour I am almost never awake for. You can read about that here.
Regardless of how much you are or aren't affected by jet lag, the trip is always worth it. The only real ways to deal with it are to do everything possible to force yourself onto the local sleep schedule and to just give it time.
This photo was taken at the Castle Quarter in Prague. I'm actually curious how close I would have had to get before I either got a reaction out of this guy or was kindly escorted away by his comrades (or colleagues, since we're talking post-communist era here).
Though my ushanka with its Soviet emblem clearly labeled me as a tourist, I couldn't resist buying it. The shopkeeper swore that the emblem wouldn't offend anyone, but I removed it shortly after this photo was taken and only replaced it when I got back to the States.
Incidentally, about a third of Prague's population sports similar fur hats in the winter, and my touristy trinket actually helped me fit in - until I opened my mouth and butchered the language.
The two vents in the photo (one under the guard's feet and the other just behind it in the shack) are heaters to keep the guys warm.
The best thing Hawaii has to offer is its natural beauty. The nightlife and posh resorts are nice, but that experience can be had just about anywhere.
No trip is really complete without getting an up-close view of the myriad tropical fish.
There are, literally, hundreds of places to snorkel on the islands, but one of the easiest to reach for most visitors in Hanauma Bay, on Oahu's eastern shore about 10 miles from Waikiki.The best advice I can give for a trip to Hanauma Bay is to get there early. The nature preserve is invariably crowded during its open hours, and the more people out kicking through the water, the more sand gets stirred up, obscuring your view.
After paying $1 to park and $7.50 per person to enter, there is a mandatory video before visitors can descend to the beach, either on foot or by tram.
I've been to Hanauma Bay several times, and despite snorkeling opportunities elsewhere, it is still worth the cost.
I brought my own snorkeling gear, but there are numerous places to rent it in Waikiki, as well as at the bay itself. The benefit to renting in Waikiki is that you can take it to other parts of the island once you're done with Hanauma Bay.
On my last trip, I swam along the surface as I snorkeled - something it takes some people a while to get used to, as breathing underwater just isn't natural.
With the narrow inlet to the bay, there is really no danger of being swept out to sea as long as you stay close to shore, and the water is shallow enough to stand up in if you get tired.
The fish you'll see the most of are schools of unimpressive silver fish, but they are exciting at first.
After about 10 minutes in the water, I spotted several angelfish, with their tall, narrow bodies slicing through the water as they scurried for cover. I also notices several rainbow-spotted fish, a number of skinny trumpetfish that resemble eels and dozens of other sea creatures.
After about two hours at the beach, the cars and buses brought more and more people, and I decided to head out to another part of the island and get on with the trip.
For more information about Hanauma Bay, visit the official site here.
This is the Bay Bridge, heading to Oakland from San Francisco. During the 1989 earthquake, a portion of the top level - Oakland to San Francisco - famously smashed down onto the lower level.
