Fred Frigo 12/29/22 Fred Frigo 12/29/22

Berchtesgaden, Sept 10 2022

Hot Tub Time Machine

Europe has no shortage of spas and even spa towns. They can be in mountain settings or built over natural hot springs. Something for everyone, so whether you’re looking for luxury accommodations, ease of access; something quaint perhaps, there are plenty of choices.

We were drawn to something with a historical setting and natural surroundings, so we wanted to give Berchtesgaden a try. This town is located in a small southern area of Germany that extends into the Bavarian Alps and is surrounded by Austria on three sides. It lies just 15 miles south of Salzburg, and I’m sure Maria Von Trapp’s favorite hill is well within sight.

*The Berchtesgadener Ache river fronts the town*

It has long been a favorite alpine location for tourists given its setting, accessibility by train and the beautiful lake Konigssee nearby. The most famous tourist to fall in love with it was Hitler, who settled there in the 1920’s, making it his home and later political center during his wild ride over Germany. This is where he met foreign dignitaries, conducted conferences and crafted most of his diabolical strategies.

*The Kempinski resort sits high above the town about two miles east*

The main resort here is the Kempinski Spa Hotel. The hotel is located in Obersalzberg just northeast of town and only 10 minutes from the main station. This zone was densely bombed by the British and American forces at the end of the war in an effort to destroy the Nazi nucleus, but much of the old town of Berchtesgaden and the old Bavarian architecture was spared. In fact the Kempinski is only a short walk to the WWII Documentation Center museum and the site of the famous Berghof.

The Kempinski is sort of a right size spa, big enough to be spacious with an indoor and outdoor pool open year round but not sprawling. There is a choice of saunas and a well appointed relaxing area with spa treatments. It is designed to embrace the surrounding natural area and offers beautiful views in every direction. Best of all, hiking, biking and organized excursions are a focus and there is a concierge just for that purpose. There are four restaurants, including the Michelin star “Pur” located on site. Everything about the hotel is very satisfying, from the service staff, to the food, to the amenities. Here you can easily spend a tranquil couple of days mixing in spa time, outdoor exercise and great food. In addition, it’s surprising inexpensive in comparison to equivalent resorts we’ve seen.

*The Zum Türken hotel across the street from the resort was once the local SS headquarters*

Facing the resort from the spot where Goring’s house once stood

I took the opportunity to hike the woods and hillside paths spreading out from the hotel in search of historical locations. There are many, but there is little left of them that one would otherwise notice. When Hitler made his base here before he took power, most of his entourage followed suit, building homes nearby and creating a security zone much like you would find for Truman’s compound in Key West, or for Camp David. Both Goering and Borman’s homes were located on the grounds of our hotel, and Hitler’s Berghof just a short walk down the road. There was a large greenhouse built to satisfy Hitler’s vegetarian diet (the ruins are found at the entrance drive to the hotel), and nearby also the small Zum Turken hotel which during that time served as an SS central office. Underneath all this are tunnels built late in the war to serve as bomb shelters, and bunkers fortified against the inevitable onslaught. Much of those tunnels remain and parts can be toured from the Documentation Center.

*The retaining wall of the Bergof is all that remains*

*The limousines of Chamberlain and Mussolini once drove up the entrance to the Berghof*

*The long scenic path that winds down from the Berghof to the Tea House*

I walked through the unmarked ruins of the Berghof, and saw the retaining wall and bits of driveway that remain. I then hiked down to the location of the old tea house Hitler visited daily whenever he was there. It is now faintly identified by a few fragments of concrete footings, but right next to the site is the beautiful overlook to the valley that was part of the teahouse setting and seems untouched. It was interesting to see old photos of the spot with the same views as now.

*The view from the famous Berghof picture window…..****Then***

The one location preserved in tact from those dark times is the Kehlsteinhaus or Eagles Nest which sits high on a mountain overlooking the entire area. It takes a 15 minute bus ride and a trip up in an elevator to get there. It was built for Hitler as a birthday gift, as a new and improved tea house. Yet he rarely used it, preferring his old humble refuge. His disciples missed the fact that having tea was more about the 30 minute hike than the luxury view. After the war, the mayor of Berchtesgaden pleaded with the US army to keep the untouched building in place. The US administrators along with the new German government were on a mission, erasing any trace of the former tenants. The locals maintained it should not be included in the purge, after all Hitler was hardly ever there. The powers that be agreed and it’s now the biggest tourist draw in the area. Money always has a way of creating its own logic. The building, nearly as it was, offers a one of a kind view and an eerie step into the past.

*The entry to the tunnel and elevator for the Kehlsteinhaus or Eagle’s Nest*

*Inside the large tea room at the Eagles Nest*

*The red marble for the fireplace in the tea room was donated by Mussolini. The chips made by Allied soldiers grabbing souvenirs*

The word Fascism seems to have gained use recently in the press and many editorials. Comparisons made with the MAGA movement and with Putin’s rule being examples. I often think using a simple label for an entire political system, be it Monarchy, Fascism, Communism even Democracy by our adversaries is clumsy, and to simply brand one as good or evil without some understanding is ignorant. Like most political philosophies it has its strengths and weakness. Besides there is nothing wrong with a dictator if you can ever just find the right person for the job (that’s meant as a joke).

*The Hofbrauhaus Braustubl. Great beer garden, great food and yes beer.*

That said, I think there is something unique about any version yet invented for Fascism, and that being it is the most tribal of all the political ideas. Its central focus on nationalism, on exclusion, on protecting who “we” are and demonizing all those who “we” aren’t. Traits that always have and I think always will, cause it to fly off it it’s tracks and into a ball of fire. I think we’re right to fear it and right to snuff it out early.

*The smallest town in Germany with a Hauptbanhof (rail terminal). Built just before the war.*

*The entrance to Goring’s family bomb shelter and tunnel system. Hidden in the woods and welded shut.*

When you see the ruins of the Third Reich in Obersalzberg, you can’t keep from being impressed by the efforts made to remove them. They were bombed by fleets of bombers in 1945, set fire to, blown up in 1952 and again in the 1960’s and 1990’s. The rubble carted off so nothing remained. Unless you really know what you’re looking for, you would simply walk past these places without the slightest notice. It’s as if it’s out of some horror novel, we kill the monster, drive a stake in it’s heart, cut off it’s head, and try to ensure it can’t come back to life.

Seems to me what we should fear most is not the dead monster, but the swamp it came out of.

Fred Frigo 8/17/22 Fred Frigo 8/17/22

Israel, July 22 2022

מצדה לעולם לא תיפול שוב

(Masada shall never fall again)

- Israeli oath

People want to visit Israel for various reasons. To make a connection with their faith, see the historical sites, enjoy the beach, gain perspective on the whole political conflict or just experience the culture. All good reasons to go. My own was primarily to see the historical areas but I enjoyed every facet of the experience, and by the time I left all my pre-conceived notions on each of them were altered.

Tel Aviv is a bustling city. I have to say, it is not as attractive or as clean as I would have expected. You see a lot of graffiti, catch some bad smells, and the picturesque views are few and far between. We did like the restaurants and bars which are plentiful and the ones we visited were all quite good. Oh and as a side note, the coffee is excellent. I found the city on the whole closer to resembling a Caribbean locale than a European one.

We hired a guide and driver for three full days, and I can’t imagine trying to see Israel any other way. Once out of the city, the country is complicated, and intimidating. I wouldn’t recommend anyone winging it with a car rental. This isn’t France. That said hiring a driver was stupid expensive, but the good news is the whole place isn’t that big.

*Looking toward the Dead Sea from Masada*

We began south in Masada. I thought this was just a mountain fortress, carved in caves by rebels trying to hold out against the Romans. In fact it was originally an extensive palace built on a rocky plateau overlooking the Dead Sea by King Herod. Designed as a refuge in case his people turned on him (he wasn’t under any illusions) it was built to stand a siege. After the Roman’s put down the Jewish revolt in the late 60’s AD, the last of the zealots held out here until 73 AD. In the end the place was destroyed and everyone killed. It took a full Roman legion a year to capture the citadel, and they weren’t in the mood to talk things out. Historical accounts say the remaining rebels killed themselves rather than be captured. The legend now serves as a call to all Israelis to never again succumb to an attacker and to fight to the death. So Masada is a symbolic focal point to the Jewish struggle. I doubt any Jewish citizen can say the oath without tears in their eyes.

*Outline of a Roman camp, there were many circling the fortress*

Every Israeli we met was passionately proud of their people and the nation. Maintaining that when they started migrating here over a century ago it was to return home and avoid persecution. They said they tried to play nice, to simply have their homeland back. It was Arab resistance and anti-semitic politics that brought about the chronic conflict and wars. They will point to the contrast with Gaza today, to illustrate how well off the Arab population is in Israel. Living as citizens with full government benefits, educational opportunities and most importantly jobs.

*Looking down the ramp built by the Romans to finally breach the walls*

To their credit, I doubt any other population could have turned this desolate landscape into a thriving nation the way the Jewish people have. I mean they have little arable land, few water sources, and long tangled borders to defend from nearly all sides. What separates Israel from others are their exceptional skills, their passion and a will to achieve. The qualities that have made the Jewish people so successful in business and the arts since the beginning of history. Things are booming, and the Palestinians who can assimilate conceivably reap the benefits.

*The old palace walls neatly marked to show the original vs reconstructed sections*

All great, but I can’t help but think. Homeland? If the criteria for a homeland is that you once controlled the area many centuries ago, then imagine the ridiculous historic parallels, way to numerous to name. No sorry, I don’t buy the argument of being a rightful heir to the land. Perhaps a better argument is that other than Jerusalem this place was a steaming, barely inhabitable pile of sh..well sand that except for a few Bedouins wasn’t on anyones list of best places to live. And there were other rulers over the recent centuries, the British, the Turks, neither of whom wanted to move there and left hardly a mark. No, the best view I can muster is that Jewish affluence, international sympathies, and the twists of political fate in recent history all brought the state of Israel into being. Is that fair? Doesn’t matter now, stuff happens. Wars happen, genocides happen, refugee waves happen. Point is, it’s done and if the area can build off all it has achieved, rather than try and unravel it, everyone here might fair much better.

*Steep cliffs protecting the fortress. Our guide in the shadow*

I honestly hope this all works out without more bloodshed and after visiting I’m more optimistic that it can. It was eye opening to see Palestinians working at the hotels, restaurants and stores. Even many in the police force. Like most things our view gets distorted by the actions of smaller groups that make the headlines. Still, you can just feel, that amongst all the everyday folks going about their lives, there is something combustable and unstable surrounding you. One last outsider opinion. It occurs to me that the other players involved both East and West are not helping and most often only inflaming the situation. That includes not just the neighboring and allied countries, but the religious forces that exert their uncompromising pull on the populations.

*The well preserved mosaic floor of the synagogue at Ein Gedi*

*An underground river emerges just up the path from the Ein Gedi Settlement*

Ok, so from Masada we traveled to Ein Gedi a curious old settlement and nature reserve that once cornered the market on a precious perfume which was Cleopatra’s favorite. Too bad the secret is long lost as legend maintains it to be irresistible. We followed the Dead Sea north and took the opportunity to go for a swim in the salty, muddy water. You float, your cuts burn and you take a welcome shower to get the salty mud off. Like riding a camel, you do it so you can say you did it, and well enough already. Seriously though I think the sight of this whole area is remarkable. The large salty sea set in this low elevation landscape is unique and very scenic. We managed to squeeze in a visit to the Jordan river at the end of the day. The spot where John the Baptist did his work and we’re told Jesus was baptized. The river here is quite narrow and forms a subtle border with Jordan. This was the first place we visited that mystically called back to my early bible studies and it was weird to see the spot you had imagined so often.

The second day was north toward the sea of Galilea. First to Meggido, the site of the famous 15th century BC battle between King Tut’s Egyptian army and the combined kingdoms of Canaan. A daring approach through a narrow trail allowed the Egyptians to surprise and overwhelm their enemy. The site dates back to 7000 BC and was strategic in that it controls the entire valley and trading routes toward Babylon. It is the site not only of this first historically recorded battle, but of many fought there over the millennia, and let’s hope those days are over, as this place is the Armageddon described in Revelations.

From there it was on to Nazareth, understood to be the little village of Christ’s youth and which is now a sprawling town. On the north shore of the Sea of Galilea is the town of Capernaum. This was a fishing village where the the apostles joined up with Jesus and set out on their mission. The ruins of the old synagogue and the ancient town are interesting and give you some insight to what life may have been like at that time. We visited another town further south on the sea called Magdala, which is recently discovered and still in the middle of excavation.

*The church altar built over the alleged cave of Mary’s childhood in Nazareth. There was a building attached to the cave that was somehow transported to Loreto near to our home in Sirolo*

*Ruins of the old synagogue at Capernaum*

*What’s left of the fishing village of Capernaum*

The highlight of the trip was our visiting Jerusalem on the third day of the trip. We arrived early to visit the sprawling market before the crowds arrived. It was one of the most interesting markets I’ve ever seen. An incredible variety of fruits, spices, fish, you name it. All carefully separated for kosher concerns and you get the sense you could buy anything there. Into the old city we entered through the Jaffa gate and walked through the Armenian quarter, then the Christian quarter and finally the Jewish quarter. Our first stop the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, built over the site of the crucifixion and the grave. Although there is little historical doubt as to Christ’s existence and his fate, the locations now venerated are anything but precise. Hundreds of years passed before an effort was made to secure and name the holy locations, and the difference between the holy rock and a nearby rock is a mater of faith, imagination or opportunity. That said, it is a strange feeling to walk and visit the locations you’d been told about so many times as a child in religion class. It all took on a historical feel that I didn’t expect to sense.

*Our guide talking Candy into tasting a local treat at the market*

The final place to visit was the Western Wall. It was crowded with devout visitors some weeping and many pushing small notes of faith and gratitude into the seams in the rock. Above, the elevated walled Temple Mount area was under Muslim control and off limits to infidels. It is a strange and tense boundary between the faiths. I saw it. I touched it. I’m glad I did and there was no urge to linger, it’s not a peaceful or tranquil place.

*Tourist focused market in the Christian sector*

*The rock of the cruxifixction, complete with the notch that held the cross*

The trip was more comfortable and secure than I expected, the takeaways and perspectives I gained were signifiant. Did I mention it’s not that big? Well I didn’t see it all but I think I saw enough. I left happy that now when I see news about Israel and read about the historical accounts I can put it into a better perspective.

Fred Frigo 7/27/22 Fred Frigo 7/27/22

Istanbul, July 7 2022

…the city is all I want, even if it is empty - Mehmed the Conqueror

You think of all the great cities that in their time represented the pinnacle of human civilization. Consider Rome, Babylon, London, Athens, New York. I submit that none of them held that crown the way the city founded first as Byzantium, then Constantinople, and finally Istanbul did. It was the world center of commerce, art, wealth and religion for over 1000 years. Although today it is the 15th largest city in the world, it is a shadow of its former glory.

The Roman emperor Constantine the Great (and he truly was) sought to meet the needs of his over expanded and now Christian empire by splitting it into two political/administrative halves and then anchoring the newly partitioned east with its own capital. On top of the small town of Byzantium, he built a city to rival Rome and in fact renamed it New Rome. The unimaginative name naturally didn’t stick and it was soon called Constantinople by his adoring subjects. Situated as it was, the new site covered all the bases, a deep protected harbor, easy access by land and sea, and best of all it was a near perfect fortress.

*Turkish tea and a baklava, easy to find and tough to beat*

Long captivated with the historic place, I was more than a bit nervous about trying to make a trip there. Over the years headlines start to etch fears in your mind; a muslim country, that loose canon Erdogen, run-ins with Greece and the EU. I did a bit of research, calmed my nerves and rationalized that it would be just a short trip, my risk profile is a bit different in my old age, and besides just how much trouble can I really get into. Now having decided it was a good time to go, I then managed to convince Candy.

On arrival, the airport is one of the nicest and newest in the world, but not very close to the city center. We stayed at the Doubletree Old Town and it turned out to be a good choice being situated on the main artery named Ordu, which runs directly through the historical center. A tramway operates down the middle of the boulevard all the way to the Hagia Sophia/Topkapi Palace area and makes for a cheap, easy, commute. It is however crazy crowded. Overall, people are courteous and friendly and try to help the tourists, but the language is a challenge as few people speak English away from the hotel front desks or the restaurant hosts.

Our first day there we booked a tour guide on Tours by Locals, which was a good move. This worked out quite well and our guide Duygu was knowledgeable, spoke good English and shared much about herself, her country and her passion for Istanbul. Most importantly she put us at ease with the new cultural environment.

Leave your shoes at the door and step inside the magnificent Hagia Sophia

Our tour took us first to Hagia Sophia, which is the city’s main sight and at the very heart of everything. This giant domed Roman building was constructed as the first great christian church. It survived the millinieum switching from a church to a mosque after the muslim conquest, then to museum and just recently back to a mosque. Muslims are very adverse to christian displays but much of the original mosaic and craftsmanship in her walls remains. In fact there is a large artwork high up near the dome that colorfully depicts the Virgin Mary. It was none the less allowed to be displayed with the compromise being to cover it during muslim services. A retractable curtain was installed for that purpose. It seems to have broken in the “covered” position and is beyond the priority or ability of the government to repair. Another development with recently converting back to a mosque is that some areas of the building are now off limits, much to the frustration of the tour guides.

*The Virgin Mary once prominently displayed and now peaking behind a blind*

A few of the main tourist sites were unfortunately under repairs; the cisterns, the interior of the Blue Mosque, the Chora Church, but that didn’t put much of a dent into our plans. After the Hagia Sophia, we walked to the Topkapi Palace which is both vast, and spectacular. The palace grounds are very well kept and clean and it’s shear size thins out the tourist crowd. Then we took a long walk through the Hippodrome, the center of Byzantine life much as the Colosseum was to Rome. It is an open piazza now and except for it’s shape and the obelisks that decorate it’s center line, there is little left of the structure, much like the Circus Maximus in Rome.

*One of many ornate buildings at the Topkapi Palace*

*An original palace Sycamore tree, a sacred symbol to the Ottomans*

*The Quran is read aloud 24/7/365 year after year non stop*

Dinner in Istanbul is easy, and the food is great. Whether it’s street food, inexpensive little lunch places or fine dinning that offers traditional Turkish cuisine, the menu’s are exciting and the tastes are both wonderful and unique.

We followed up the first full day of touring with a cruise down the Bosporus and a visit to the Mosaic museum to see what remains of the Roman palace. We visited, in the rain, the north west part of town and the Church of St. George. This church is inconspicuous and well guarded by the Turkish police. There have been a number of incidents with terrorist attacks there. A small church, once inside it is quite a sight and holds a surprising treasure of art and artifacts. This church is the center of the Eastern Orthodox religion. It’s mind boggling to think that it is to the Easter Orthodox christians what St. Peter’s is the Catholics. The day made for a lot of walking around the center which is much more hilly than I’d expected. It turned into good workout.

*The pillar of Christ’s scourging brought from Jerusalem*

The food in Istanbul is fantastic. Turkish cuisine is both unique and diverse, from the Shwarma stands to fine restaurants, and the deserts are addictive. We tried to sample a lot of different dishes and loved everything. Shopping is extensive as witnessed by walking the city blocks of the enclosed Grand Bazaar, which is a must to see. Yet for us despite the number of shops, most were repetitive and there wasn’t much that we wanted to take home.

*Winding through the very old Grand Bazaar*

*For lunch, don’t miss the Pudding Shop for great Turkish food*

*Ottoman cuisine at Deraliye, recommended*

*Dinner at the Arcadia Hotel rooftop, view outstanding, food just ok*

The Roman (Byzantine) city was a remarkable fortress utilizing it’s position as a peninsula against the Bosporous Strait and its construction of surrounding walls, much of which still stand. Repeated attempts by superior armies would fail to crack her skin. The 1203, Crusaders flying their flags marked with the cross arrived. It was a strange mix of events that is still hard to make sense of. Arriving to help the citizens restore power to what they thought was the rightful and popular heir to the throne, they wound up in a fight. Then a compromise and a partnership and then a fight again. With some dumb luck, and Venetian bravado they gained access to the city and then in a wild blood frenzy laid it to waste. There may never have been a greater act of savagery than what Constantinople was then subjected to. Art was stolen, or simply destroyed. Men, women and children were slaughtered and raped wholesale. Clerics were cut down in the churches and much of the city burned. All this not by some barbaric horde from the cold north, but by the Pope’s army, called together by him in the name of God to save Christianity. He was of course upset by the events and excommunicated the lot of them. That is until he realized they could still make it to the Levant and save Jerusalem, and so he changed his mind.

*The floor mosaics from the Byzantine Palace*

*A section of the curved extreme of the Hippodrome*

Constantinople never recovered from the Cursader’s sack. She would regain her position as a Roman/Greek nation but she was mortally wounded, never able to fully rebuild her army, her economy or her navy. This condition, combined with advances in siege artillery in the 15th century would leave her vulnerable and when the greatest military force of the time, the Ottoman Turks, came calling in 1453 it was just too much. She resisted Mehmed’s assaults valiantly but finally succumbed. Her last and valiant emperor Constantine XI died in hand to hand combat. The ensuing sack, ultimately erased all but the Hagia Sophia and the cities great, now damaged walls.

*Three walls with a 20 ft deep moat in front that now serves as gardens*

*The damaged battlements survive as witness to the assault*

*A tower adjacent to the “Crooked Gate”, where Constantine XI was last seen inspecting the his troops the night before the Turkish assault*

I visited the walls one afternoon taking a cab (be careful as there is no logic or structure to what they charge) and then hiking along their outer side. There is no organized tourism around this historic site, although the Turkish government is trying to restore a large section. Even the city guides I inquired too didn’t provide tours or suggest any options. Spending some hours hiking along I could see what an engineering marvel the walls were, why they worked so well and for so long, and where the evidence of the damage from the Turkish siege was still very apparent.

Some cities you visit and you feel satisfied that you’ve taken a big bite of what it has to offer. That maybe you’ll come back only if an opportunity presents itself. For me, our four days in Istanbul was just a tasty nibble. This city is like Rome, there is so much to see and experience you know it’s going to take more than a few visits, and I’ll be looking forward to them as much as I did the first.

Fred Frigo 7/23/22 Fred Frigo 7/23/22

Ireland, May 23 2022

John Ford’s Ireland

The 1952 movie “The Quiet Man” directed by John Ford and starring John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara has its followers, and we are among them. Watching the video is a St. Patrick’s Day tradition in our house and one best practiced with a Guinness in hand. Over time it’s critics have claimed the movie is misogynistic (which it no doubt is but more by today’s standards) and further that it portrays an idealistic and fantasy view of Ireland. On the first point I will beg forgiveness and make my excuses, but as for the latter point, I say “Yeah ok, so what”.

If I want to watch the hard realism of Irish history I’ll watch Belfast, which I have, but just once. On the subject of Ireland, fantasy is way more fun and besides maybe the magical vision of Ireland portrayed in the movie isn’t all that far off. Our short trip was focused on finding out.

It was our first journey to Ireland and since most of our friends and family had already been there, we heard a lot about how wonderful a vacation it is and how dismal the weather can be. With our hopes high, we planned to get our feet wet by first seeing Dublin and then driving west to visit the Galway area.

Dublin was very nice, and it falls into the category of cities you must see at least once, and maybe just once. The Temple Bar area was like Key West without the sunshine and wasn’t my cup of tea. The highlight of our short stay in the city was a well chosen hotel (The Hyatt Centric Liberties) which had a great staff, and was centrally located near St. Patricks cathedral. Best of all, the pub two doors down was a gem. The Capstan Bar, some 400 years old was crowded, but unlike the watering holes in the Temple Bar district, the clientele were all locals. Most of whom, including the bartenders were happy to see us Yanks and make us feel welcome. This was the kind of place where people stop off for a pint after work, meet friends, buy each other beers and carry on non stop until the overdue realization that they need to get home. As a side benefit, we also got some great advise on what to see in Galway.

Leaving Dublin I’ll admit the driving was a little scary, left hand driving, left handed shifter; it took some getting used to. My biggest problem was getting too close to the curb side of the road and I was glad that I got acclimated in the city before I had to deal with the narrow roads around Galway. Once out on the expressway, the drive was easy and scenic. We chose a BnB near the town of Cong, which happens to be the town the movie centered around. In the movie the name was changed to the much prettier sounding Inisfree, and all the filming took place either there or a short drive away. Cong sits by itself on a pristine stream, in the shadow of the beautiful and exclusive Ashford Castle. I wanted to stay at the castle after I’d read about it, but it was booked up well in advance. We walked near by and wanted a closer look but you can’t even visit the castle as it’s approaches are guarded by a well dressed and friendly security team.

*The stone bridge entry to Ashford Castle*

Ireland isn’t exactly a culinary destination, but the first place we had dinner, Lydon’s Bar in Cong, was terrific. I tried to vary my menu choices over the course of the trip but my beverage was a constant, draft Guinness and it never disappointed.

There is a small tourist business setup in town around the filming of the movie, incredibly all these years latter it still is a favorite and draws people from all over. The town has changed from the small country village chosen by Hollywood scouts, but not as much as you’d expect. In 1952 the town’s residents welcomed the event and many were extras in the movie.

We were able to see most of the settings for the major scenes in the film and the town has never stopped taking great pride in that piece of its history. We took a short guided tour that originated at an exact replica of the cottage home central to the story (White O’Morn in the movie) and it was extremely well done. Our guide was hilarious and told stories about the towns folk who appeared in the movie and have now passed on. He told us about John Wayne hanging out the local pub during the filming and how a few years back he served as the guide for Maureen O’Hara when she made hr last visit. The area around Cong and surrounding the castle is a serene well maintained park. Walking from the ruins of the old abbey toward the castle and back the other side of the river is really scenic and picturesque

Herself at the open hearth of White O’Morn cottage

*The bridge leaving the Abbey ruins and entering the park*

The monk’s fishing hut sitting mid stream

The church where Sean Thornton met Mary Kate

Along the way you pass a small stone fishing shack built out into the stream where the monks left baited lines tied to a bell. Back to the movie, there is the house of the Reverend Playfair, the church where Sean and Mary Kate first meet, the famous Pat Cohen pub, and much more. All carefully preserved and looking as you might have hoped to find them.

*The stream featured often in the movie, and filled with Salmon and Trout*

Having exhausted the film nostalgia portion of the trip we then set out on a long car ride through Connemara national park on the recommendation of our BnB host. Along the way passing by a few more settings from the movie, the famous stone bridge seen at the opening, and the train station featured toward the end. Then we made another winding cruise south the next day to the Cliffs of Moher. From there a visit to Galway’s pub district and a stay at the Glenlo Abbey Resort near town. Galway would have been heaven to me when I was in my twenties, great music and pubs, now days I’m not as likely to make a night of it.

*The stone bridge from the opening scenes, just as it was in the film.*

The station, now abandoned, from the closing scenes

The Glenlo Abbey resort was beautiful. It is a Hilton property so we were lucky to get an upgrade to the presidential suite that looked out over the course. The old buildings and grounds were delightful for a long walk and later a well made cocktail. Dinner was also a treat as they have two of the original Orient Express dining cars on a siding next to the hotel. We took advantage of that for a great dinner our last night there.

The only downside of the entire experience was the absolute mess at Dublin airport coming home, where we set a personal record for the longest wait in the a security line at two and a half hours. It was followed by a delayed flight due to the disconnect between luggage and delayed passengers.

All in all it was a great trip, and for the record, John Ford’s Ireland in 1952 isn’t all that far off. If you’re a fan of the movie, it’s definitely worth spending a night or two in Cong. If you’ve yet to see it, I hope you give it a try, you just might find yourself watching it every March.

Fred Frigo 5/27/22 Fred Frigo 5/27/22

Japan, April 30 2022

It is better to travel well than to arrive - Buddha

Our visit to Japan, long awaited, had a difficult start. Letters of invitation, visas, declarations, tests, forms, online apps, most of them taking several iterations to complete. At one point I almost thought it was just too ridiculously difficult to bother with. I barely got it done, and was still trying to reprint corrected forms at the Zurich airport just before I boarded. Thirteen hours later I arrived with everything perfectly in place, and it still took well over three hours to get through arrivals at Narita airport in Tokyo.

It was so worth it.

*Unlike the “L”, the pristine subway, upholstered seats without a stain, and the scent of a new car*

I knew it the minute I got off the Narita Express and walked into my hotel; and every day that followed it got even better. The entry requirements I thought a curse were a blessing, we felt ourselves to be the only western tourists in Japan. Like something out of the 19th century.

We had a few days before the backgammon tournament began, and our first order of business was to hook up with a fellow backgammon player Kenji, an old friend of my brother Frank. We owe a good part of our great travel experience to the Japanese friends who traveled with us most of the time. Showing us the cool neighborhoods of Tokyo, helping us get around, and leading us to some of the best restaurants and bars. On top of that, we spent a couple days with local guides, one in Tokyo and another in Kyoto.

*Frank and Micheal on tour in the Fish Market, we wore masks outside, not because we thought it would protect us, but because we didn’t want to be the only people in Tokyo without one.*

The first thing that impresses you with Japan is how clean, orderly, safe and just plain civilized the whole country is. Workers in clean well fitting uniforms, and bowing attendants at restaurants and hotel entrances. The majority of the people you encounter are conservatively well dressed and many of the men are in sport jackets. Homeless? Panhandlers? Pick pockets? Mental cases walking the streets talking to themselves? Not here. Speaking of the streets, they are spotless. In two days walking through neighborhoods, major intersections, and subways, we found one small piece of litter, and yes we were looking. It was the size of a receipt, and we picked it up. Japanese carry their trash with them and all the way home. You might not see a trash can for miles. People don’t litter, they don’t do graffiti, they do wear covid masks, and everyone we met was extremely kind. I think they are the way they are, because they respect their fellow humans, and well it’s just how they were raised.

*An old tree that survived the firebombing with scars to prove it*

*Temple incense to cure and bring good luck. Michael hoping to improve his dice rolling*

I couldn’t help but wonder how this city of over 35 million people, the largest metropolitan area in the world, could accomplish such a utopian existence. Tokyo did get a fresh start in 1945 thanks to the USAF. We burnt it to a crisp, hundreds of B29’s striking with incendiary bombs carefully placed to take advantage of the wind. It worked perfectly and the ensuing firestorm killed over 100K civilians, mostly women and children. A forgotten atrocity, courtesy of General Curtis LeMay who thought it easier to kill off the factory labor than to bomb the factories. He was a true war criminal who later became George Wallace’s running mate (go figure) and lived to a ripe old age. Today, little evidence remains of the bombing, we found a surviving old charred tree, and I understand there is dented metal bridge somewhere, but the city is entirely reconstructed. Following the war and after some false starts and neglect we helped Japan rebuild. You might expect some lingering hard feelings towards us westerners, but it seems the Japanese view us more in the positive post war light. Looking instead at the efforts we made toward helping them rebuild and our support in the decades that followed. One person I talked to seemed to view the civilian bombings as washing with their own atrocities in China. I guess it all balances out this war stuff, every belligerent turns criminal sooner or later. As Denzel Washington’s character says in the movie Glory “ain’t nobody clean”.

*Two of the best Backgammon players in world, Mochy (grand master and world number one) and Frank (prior world champion). Frank is being presented with a birthday gift for hitting a milestone.*

*A great spot for Japanese style BBQ in Tokyo, Yazawa*

*Drinks after the tournament at the Mother bar*

*Properly served sake, spilled over the glass in a wood box, and you finish it off by pouring back in the glass*

*At Kenji’s bar, Never Never Land, where except for me, nearly everyone there was a great musician and it was a late night where we sang, drank, played, drank again*

On a lighter note, the tournament was well run and one of the best I’ve attended. I say this, partially because I had a good start and qualified for the finals. Perhaps some good dice luck along with some helpful coaching during the trip from Frank and Micheal got my game up a notch. I lost in the first game of the final round, but I still got a little recognition at the end.

We seemed to talk backgammon on and off over the whole trip as the enthusiasm carried over. One of our hosts who stayed with us for a couple days getting us to and around Kyoto happens to be one of the best backgammon players, coaches and authors of the game in the world. Michy as he’s known for short, didn’t just help with backgammon, but accompanied us touring Kyoto, and most importantly he showed us how to eat all the diverse foods that were put in front of us. Like what goes with what, and how you get into your mouth.

Tokyo is modern, immense and a bit overwhelming. Kyoto on the other hand is more scenic and old world. In Kyoto we stayed at a traditional Japanese guest house called a ryokan; leave your shoes at the door, put on a kimono, have a seat on the floor or in the spa area and relax. When you’re not doing that, you’re eating a mega course meal served by smiling waitress’s in traditional dress, dedicated to our table and cooking only for us. There’s plenty of good sake of course. Our ryokan was located just west of the city center in Arashiyama, a beautiful mountainside town set alongside the Katsuragawa river.

*Sitting down, way down, for dinner at the ryokan*

Seeing the temples, gardens and the Samurai fort in Kyoto was not to be missed. As you tour the questions come fast, tell me about the emperor, the shoguns, the samurai elite, and the geisha. Their history is fascinating and helps explain how the art, architecture and customs all forged their place in Japanese society. How I wish America had just a small part of their capacity for cultural identity and common values. It was Golden Week, a holiday period that went on most of the time we were there, and many younger people were dressed in traditional clothes strolling around the temple areas and parks. Their pride and attachment to their heritage was impressive.

We all had our favorite sights, but mine was Nijō Castle. A fortress built in the 1600’s which served as the capital and later the imperial palace of the Samurai rulers of Japan. It was here that the last Shogun Tokugawa Yoshinobu handed control of Japan back to the Emperor in 1867 ending the two hundred year reign of the Samurai, opening Japan to the west and beginning its development as a world power. Throughout this vast Unesco site, the beautifully maintained buildings and grounds display the artwork of the period and showcase the world of the Samurai.

*The guys deep in meditation at the famous rock garden at Ryan Ji temple*

In Kyoto we also toured the Gion area where most of the tea houses and geisha traditions still flourish. The tea houses are booked well in advance, and the neighborhood is very quiet and well kept. No cameras allowed. Our guide did whisper to us as a glamorous woman walked past, pointing out she was a geisha. I’m not sure how she knew for sure as there wasn’t any telltale sign, but I have little doubt she was.

We left with our minds set on coming back, we all felt that way. Travel can be particularly rewarding when you discover an entire society you never really knew, a welcome reminder of how diverse and amazing the world is. It was a kick in my pants to get back on the road and try to experience another. Covid be damned.

Fred Frigo 3/7/22 Fred Frigo 3/7/22

Curaçao, February 14 2022

Face Down in the Water

The Caribbean hasn’t been too appealing to me for a long time. Trips over the years led to the belief it was just too uncomfortable, for me anyways. Hot, humid and above all too infested with mosquitos. Why go back. Well, it turns out that in my efforts to experience the natural world, I realized I’ve ignored the larger half that’s under sea level and so I decided it was time to do some serious snorkeling. That led me to try and recruit two of my closest friends to take a trip, who both are avid snorkelers. We settled on the ABC islands as the best option and in particular Curaçao since our wives were joining us and we wanted a good balance of sightseeing and snorkeling.

The trip was easy, a short flight from Miami. The covid restrictions were another matter. We faced some overcomplicated entry paperwork and requirements that had us getting tested three times for a five day trip. It was however, well worth it.

Curaçao is an interesting melting pot. Its residents are mostly of African and South American Indian mix with of course a large Dutch representation. It is after all part of the Netherlands, and is a major tourist stop for European Dutch vacationers. There are numerous languages in play, native Papiamento, Dutch, and English; the latter is fortunately spoken everywhere.

*A game of dominos near the city center*

Curaçao was a peaceful little island inhabited by the Arawaks until a Summer day in 1499 when the Spanish arrived. This sudden alien invasion led to their prompt impressment into slavery, and the island lacking any precious resources, was subsequently put to poor use by its new overlords. It changed hands, between the Spanish and Dutch and never seemed to be very profitable for either as attempts at agriculture proved disappointing. It only gained importance when the West Indian Trading Company arrived. This Dutch corporation, based on trade profits and operating its own military arm made Curaçao a base. The island soon became a commercial center, and the principle commodity and profit source was none other than African slaves, unloaded, sold, bought and transferred throughout the Americas. The Dutch slavery trade finally ended about the time of the American Civil War and left the island waiting for the next exploitive venture, which was oil. A giant Shell refinery opened there and for decades processed Venezuelan oil. Located in the center of the island is makes a sizable mark and during it’s operation contributed a mix of economic stimulus, bad air and tar fields. Just a few years ago it was shut down and now awaits efforts to reopen it that I hope won’t prevail.

*The famous pontoon bridge at the harbor entrance*

To the tourist’s advantage, the air is now fresh and clean and the shores remain pristine. The main city Willemstad reminds you of Amsterdam with its colorful old European architecture. Parts are a bit run down, but there seems a major effort in renovation, no doubt directed at expanding tourism. Beyond the city, the rolling landscape looks dry and supports plenty of cactus.

The most pleasant surprise was the weather. Every day partly cloudy, breezy, warm and dry. The climate felt more like Hawaii than say the Bahamas; and the bugs? I didn’t see a single mosquito much less get bitten by one.

The shoreline provides many diving and snorkeling opportunities. We saw multitudes of beautiful, colorful fish especially as you crossed outside the rocky breakwaters. We swam with sea turtles and were brushed by large schools of fish swarming the coastal seas. Pictures wouldn’t do it justice but it doesn’t matter as my waterproof case for my iPhone failed miserably (kept the water out but was impossible to operate).

Dinners were delightful with local specialties and seafood. We found several great restaurants and would recommend in particular the Mundo Bizzaro and the Restaurant Fish and Joy, both an easy walk from our base. That by the way was the Avila Beach Resort which was very clean, modern and reasonable. It included a good sized private beach and easy access to great snorkeling. I would skip it for dinner, and keep my bar choices to beer and rum drinks which were great.

Traveling to Curaçao now is a great opportunity given the proximity, the beauty of its natural environment and the window that has opened allowing one to take full advantage of the tourist benefits without the shadow of the refinery. Most tourists are Dutch, but I expect it will become quite popular with Americans in the coming years.

Fred Frigo 10/11/21 Fred Frigo 10/11/21

Abruzzo, September 20 2021

Wild Wild Life

Abruzzo is nearly half park land, and most of that is mountains and rolling hills. We traveled there for some exercise, the breathtaking views and to hopefully catch sight of the wildlife the park works hard to protect. It was a two day trip, spending the night in the small town of Civitella Alfedena which sits along side lake Barrea, not far from the town my grandmother grew up in, Agnone.

The first day was spent hiking in a familiar setting, a plateau surrounded by rocky elevations where I had traveled on a guided tour about three years ago with my brother Vic. Like before we found Chamois (a type of mountain goat) and both large red deer and little Capriolo or roe deer wandering along ridges and slopes. It’s hard to get within sight, these animals are both fearful and very quick.

The next morning we drove to another section that was new to me. Starting at the trail at 5am we hiked an hour up to a high meadow. Dawn arrived just before we reached the top, so most of the climb was in the dark with the way lit only by our head torches and a full moon. It was a difficult and rocky climb and we’d had little sleep the night before but I felt good. We saw not a single other person until the afternoon. For most of the day we experienced the mountains in their original state, the only signs of humans being the worn path we followed. Then we left the trail and climbed across rocky slopes to another section with a little bowl shaped valley that held a natural watering hole. This is what my friend Gaga was looking for, he’d been there once before and somehow remembered the way. I’ll admit that as my blisters flared up, and my left knee ached from having strained it as we climbed on and on I was getting worried, but I was in good hands.

We found a place near the water hole where we hid ourselves in the rocks and waited. We’d seen the deer along the way but always from a distance, now we hoped they might miss us and approach for a drink. After about a half hour we heard the bucks announcing themselves and held our breath as they approached. Did they not see us? or where they just too damn thirsty to care. Then again, it was mating season and the big stags were feeling their hormones and seemed unafraid of anything. As we came to see, they were looking to assert themselves, they were looking for a fight. We crouched down, trying to be still and quite and yet manage to film them. It was a real challenge but we were rewarded with the results.

We made our way back on an alternate path, thankfully my knee held up, and we headed back home as the sun was fading. Along the drive we made a stop here and there to get some photos of the animals we saw along the way out of the park, foxes, and even a wild boar. The wolves and bears are much more difficult to find and although we never caught site of them, we felt fortunate to see all that we did in such a short time.

Two days later, I bought the best hiking shoes I could find.

Fred Frigo 9/8/21 Fred Frigo 9/8/21

Liechtenstein, September 3 2021

Liechtenstein

I traveled to Liechtenstein. You’re probably thinking I just wanted to chalk up another country visited, another pin on the map. If that’s what you think then you are completely correct. I was in Zurich and it was only an hour or so ride by train, then bus; why not give it a look.

It’s a small country, we all know that. It’s also completely unremarkable. Granted I was there for just a few hours, but I saw about 80% of the place and can say that I came across nothing that was any more captivating than the little Swiss town I took the bus from to go there.

In fact now that I’ve been there and read a little about it I will admit I don’t like it one bit. It hardly seems right. I mean you would think by now somebody should have conquered this little monarchy. How does this place get to be a sovereign nation. The Germans even left it alone. Liechtenstein has no army. One day they just decided to send home the 80 guys defending the place. That was over 100 years ago. Now it just has a police force. I imagine the Vatican could overrun Liechtenstein in a day with the Swiss guard wielding their halberds.

This country has been independent and unmolested for over two centuries. During that time they were able to construct a little utopia the size of a small Chicago suburb that is a Libertarian’s fantasy. They have no national defense budget, a handful of cops and hardly anyone in prison. They have the highest GDP per capita in the world, no crime, minimal taxes, no homeless people that I could see, no dissent among the masses (I mean the group), a 10 to 1 student teacher ratio, and a 100% literacy rate. Oh! almost forgot, they have both national and private healthcare. Everyone you see looks to be just cool with everything and doing quite well. They stay to themselves, don’t burden their citizens, don’t get involved in world struggles, keep the government “micro” and all the while enjoy the protection of the Swiss and the Austrians. It’s something out of a Rand Paul wet dream.

It’s not fair, I hate them.

Fred Frigo 9/6/21 Fred Frigo 9/6/21

Trieste, Istria and Slovenia, August 28 2021

Trieste, Istria and Slovenia by car

In the extreme northeast corner of the Italy lies the city of Trieste, south of there you find the triangular peninsula of Istria in Croatia, and directly to the east, the small nation of Slovenia. The landscape is mostly hilly and the area is sandwiched between the Alps and the Adriatic. We wanted to go by train and keep things efficient and simple. Unfortunately, the wonderful European rail system seems to dissolve as you approach the Balkans, so we decided instead to take the train only as far as Trieste and then rent a car from there. As we discovered, the infrastructure problem isn’t limited to the trains, with the roads being very crooked, sometimes narrow, and often under repair. Driving it turns out, was often annoying and sometimes frustrating, but thankfully the views made up for it.

The first night was in Ljubljana. Like a good number of old European cities, small and large, it involves a high bluff with a castle overlooking an old city center abreast a river. The Ljubljanica river is the heart of the city. Beautiful bridges join the riverwalks and their multitude of busy cafes. It is at once serene and bustling with people who, although they may be tourists, all appear as if they belong there. Further away from the river it becomes more ordinary, and the graffiti begins to catch on, but having a coffee at a cafe along the river bank is a special experience. After several, and some nice pastries, we had lunch at a well attended restaurant a few blocks into town and then drove away toward our next destination. At least for me, Slovenian food (excepting the coffee and pastries) is nothing to seek out, I found it plain and heavy, like a mediocre fusion of German and Swedish.

The next stop was Pola, or Pula depending on the perspective, as the local signage include both. Really? I thought to myself just pick one name and go with it, people will adjust. I wanted to see Pola (I’ll use the Italian name) because it has some historical significance, being first an important Roman city and then more recently a major military base for the Austria Hungarian Empire. There are two principal Roman sites, the impressive Amphitheater and a short walk away the temple of Augustus. You can see the best of Pola easily in one day, including climbing up to the Venetian fort that is perched high in the center of the old town. There you get a commanding view of a perfect natural port, easily understanding why it was chosen and how it could be well protected.

In fact in World War One, Pola was the most fortified naval base in Europe, impenetrable and dominating the Adriatic. At the start of the war, a then modern French submarine, the Curie attempted to find a path in, torpedo a few Austrian dreadnoughts and sneak away. Sort of a Pearl Harbor attack from below. Unfortunately for the French they ran into the protective submarine netting and then forced to surface were quickly dispatched by an Austrian destroyer. In one of the most notorious cases of having someone take your weapon away and use it against you, the Austrian navy raised the sunken sub and without delay repaired it. Now christened the U-14, it became one of the most successful raiders of the war, sinking forty-five thousand tons of Allied merchant shipping in the Mediterranean. The vessel and her captain both survived the war intact, with the sub being handed back to the French after the armistice (Oh, here’s your gun back!), and the decorated captain deciding to retire to Salzburg and devote time to his family. His name, was Georg Ritter von Trapp. Yes that Von Trapp and we all know how their story played out.

View from the Venetian fort toward the harbor

Trieste was the final stop and we turned the car in on arrival to spend two nights there. Trieste is not your typical dirty old port town. The waterfront is full of restaurants, bars, high end shops and piazzas surrounded with beautiful architecture. The grand piazza in the center is sometimes used for concerts. To give you idea of it’s size, Green Day and Iron Maiden have each played there to over twelve thousand fans. We stayed at the Doubletree in the city center, it is simply beautiful, the type of hotel people came in just to admire.

The waterfront faces west to the Adriatic and as the sun sets there is a dramatic change to the cityscape. The buildings are bathed in an incredible orange light, the sky above exploding with color. At least that evening, it was almost too brilliant to be real.

On a historical note, after the Second World War, Trieste and a small area south of it was made a free city. Occupied by the Allies it remained so until 1954 when the city was given back to Italy and the area south to Yugoslavia. Apparently some Triestini haven’t forgotten those times and we saw funny billboard to that effect. Since Trieste doesn’t have any major tourist sites it is somewhat overlooked in the travel guides, but if I was traveling back through, rounding the North Adriatic coast on my way east, I wouldn’t miss it.

Please come back, well the tourists anyway

Fred Frigo 8/22/21 Fred Frigo 8/22/21

Geneva and the French Alps, August 20 2021

A drive through the French Alps

The heat in central Italy was oppressive, and it seemed like a good idea to head north and up in altitude in search of cooler air. We drove to the French Alps for a few days. It was about a six hour drive to our first stop Chamonix-Mont Blanc France. We expected to find an Alpine village with just a few tourists. Being August surely everyone was at the shore. Not so, it was jammed with people. The mountain vistas were incredible, but the crowds were a bit a much. We spent the night and without lingering headed to Geneva.

It’s a short and beautiful drive north to Geneva, we got sidetracked (lost) along the way but didn’t care much. Everything we saw was delightful. The mountains, the waterfalls, the streams and all the old villages along the way were just beautiful. We made a few stops at pharmacies to see if we could trade our CDC vaccination card for an EU Green Pass. No luck, we were repeatedly told it wasn’t possible and finally moved on, satisfied at least that we made a good effort and if nothing else were more informed than the web articles I’d read.

Incredible water jet in the middle of Lake Geneva

Geneva is one of those European cities that makes an impression. There is the grand lake, and the architecture that somehow survived two world wars. I just felt I was somewhere civilized, so clean and safe. We treated ourselves to a night at one of the more historic and prestigious hotels, the Beau Rivage. This hotel first opened in 1861 and there is a long list of dignitaries and celebrities that have spent nights there.

At least for me, the most notable was the Empress Elisabeth. Queen of Austria Hungry, and beloved monarch, her subjects affectionately called her Sisi. The similarities between Sisi and Princess Diana are spooky. In reality she was more like a combination of Diana, Grace Kelly, Kate Middleton, and Eva Perone. Born to a noble Bavarian family and married at 16 to Franz Joseph ruler of Austria Hungary, she was an incredible person. Regarded as one of the most beautiful woman of her time, she was a fitness freak, a philanthropist and a world traveler. Obsessed with her appearance she spent two hours a day just caring for her long waist length hair. Her daily regimen of gymnastics and exercise would put many a modern women to shame. She traveled continuously in a private railcar, and after the suicide death of her only son, she wore only black the remainder of her life, overcome with despair and longing to just be anonymous.

Beau Rivage was one of her favorite hotels and she stayed there often. On September 10, 1898 she spend a night there after a day shopping and before setting out for a cruise that was to take her to Montreaux. Walking the short promenade from the hotel to the steam ship, she was knocked down by a man who seemed to stumble into her. Sisi detested an entourage and was walking to the pier accompanied only by her hand maiden. Dusting herself off, she contemplated that the man was simply after her watch. In fact, he had stabbed her through her heart with a needle file. Only her fitness and the pressure of her corset kept her mobile and she passed out shortly after boarding the ship. Realizing her identity the crew promptly brought her to shore and carried her back to the hotel on a makeshift stretcher. It was in vain, she died on the lake.

There is a sculpture of her on the lakeshore near the hotel, and artifacts from the assassination in a cabinet at the Beau Rivage. In Vienna there is an entire museum dedicated to her, where her sad story has never been lost over the 123 years since her death. I always find it odd how Hollywood can spend so much time telling the stories of the British royal families, ignoring all the other equally important stories from the other European monarchies, like Austria, Russia, Belgium and Portugal. Whatever sells.

Pieces saved from her final moments, odd how blood stains eventually fade to look like water spots.

Recent sculpture of Sisi not far from the Beau Rivage

A small plaque on the promenade at the site she was murdered. The railing dates to 1854.

To the right of the plaque the dock and a similar paddleboat to the one she boarded and died upon, docked at the same pier.

To finish our stay, we had a fantastic dinner at the Terrasse restaurant at the hotel, at a table set out on a terrace overlooking the lake. After some shopping, we made our way back to Italy by way of Annecy and Courmayeur.