It's the trip I should have done 30 or 40 years ago, but better late than never. Tomorrow Linda and I have a ride to the Concord BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) station, and we’ll take BART to San Francisco Airport to catch our nonstop flight to Copenhagen.
After a couple days there, we'll take the train from Copenhagen to Gothenburg, Sweden and enjoy a Swedish Easter with a family Linda knows from a previous stay decades ago. Tuesday, April 18, we'll catch a flight to Amsterdam, where I’ll be waving to Gislin as he leaves after celebrating his mom’s 99th birthday. Linda and I will do the tulips with her Amsterdam friend, and then on Friday, April 21, we'll fly to London. Andy and Bill will meet us there on Saturday, April 22, and we’ll have a special birthday celebration for Andy’s last year in the fifth decade.
When Andy and I first started planning this trip two years ago, he insisted he could only be gone two weeks. Linda and Bill decided to join us, and Bill also insisted he couldn't be gone more than two weeks. Plus, they didn’t want to go anywhere they considered “too cold.” High temperatures in Scandinavia this time of the year range from the 40s to the 60s Fahrenheit, which Andy and Bill consider “too cold.”
Linda and I think Andy and Bill are a couple of wusses. We do the hot-flashing thing, and we think walking around all day in those non-freezing “too cold” temperatures is heaven compared to walking and sweating around all day in warm shirt-sleeve weather. Hence, Linda and I planned the trip and told the guys they could join us when they wanted.
So, after the guys join us in London, we’ll all have a few days there together, and then on Tuesday, April 25, Andy and I will take the Eurostar train under the English Channel to Paris. Then on Thursday, April 27, we’ll take the train down to Lyon, where I’m signed up for a week-long Road Scholar "French Cooking in Lyon, France" tour. Andy, bless his heart, is going to be my eyes and ears for the tour, which will involve morning cooking lessons and afternoon visits to vineyards and wineries; chocolate, pastry and cheese shops; and silk factories, museums and other points of interest.
Meanwhile, Linda and Bill will spend a few more days in England, a few days visiting other parts of France, and then meet us in Lyon. When my Road Scholar cooking tour ends on Thursday, May 4, we’ll all fly to Barcelona. Andy and Bill wend their way back home Sunday, May 7, while Linda and I will enjoy a couple more days in Barcelona before we fly back up to Copenhagen Tuesday,May 9. We’ll stay at an airport hotel that night and then catch our flight back to San Francisco on Wednesday, May 10.
The guys are supposed to meet us in San Francisco. Linda and I sure hope so, because we’d rather not hassle BART and/or Amttrak back home to Sacramento.
Since Linda and I plan to do as much as we can on foot and mass transit, we’re striving to pack as light as possible. And since I’m a blind lady hanging on to her elbow, it behooves me to make it as easy as possible for her to be my sighted guide. Among other things, this means keeping my own load as light as possible so she can handle her load plus me. So I'm getting everything. Into one carry-on size backpack and a smaller cross-body purse.
Switching gears to some other ways I am behooved to be a reasonable “guide-ee” for Linda … we both expressly understand that every now and then I will need to shut down (dry eye pain most likely cause), and every now and then Linda will need to go do stuff without me hanging on her elbow. So we’ll just work with that. And then there is our decision that we will make it a great time. Period. Whatever happens. We’ve already survived the usual communication snafus and other weirdnesses that go with the stresses of planning a trip like this together, and we’re still looking forward to taking off tomorrow.
And finally, expressly stated to Linda on my friend Liz Halperin’s orders, anytime I am unreasonably grouchy Linda has my permission to slap me back into line. And if I’m ever whiny, she has my permission to throw me from the train. (Even Liz admits I do not do whiny. Just grouchy and snarky, both better than whiny.)
So, back to packing light. It was a major accomplishment, getting everything I need for 29 days into one backpack and one cross-body purse, especially when I had to pack for complications. Disabilities, issues, whatever you want to call them. The acutely chronic and chronically acute dry eyes are my biggest issue. These days I'm using an average of 12 to 16 Tears Naturale Free vials every 24 hours -- I even wake up four to six times at night with my eyeballs painfully dry and stuck to my lids, and need to apply lubricating drops. For this 29-day trip, I'll need at least 348 vials. The Tears Naturale Free drops I use have about 60 individual vials in each box, so that's about 6 boxes right there. I'll supplement those with 3 or 4 tubes of Genteal gel drops, and a couple packages of Bion Tears, which are thicker than the Tears Naturale Free and not quite as thick as the Genteal gel drops. Once I’m in Europe, if I find I’m going through the drops too fast, and can’t find any there, I’ll have Andy bring me a supplemental supply.
Andy had to ship a supplemental supply to me in India four yeas ago. That trip was almost three months. I just didn't have room to pack all the drops I needed at once, and I wasn’t able to find more while I was in Bangalore.
Along with the eyedrops I'll take two of Dad's old cotton handkerchiefs, which I will dampen with warm water or tea while on the plane (or anywhere else as needed) and put over my eyes to soothe them and keep them hydrated. And one more dry handkerchief for wiping excess drops. And then two more to use as Dad used to: "One for blow and one for show!"
It used to be my job to iron Dad's handkerchiefs for him. When he died, I took all his handkerchiefs -- dozens of them — and now, almost 25 years later, I still have at least three dozen. I'll be packing 8 handkerchiefs in all for this trip. They’re small and lightweight, easily hand-washable, fast-drying, and work just fine unironed. I doubt Dad could ever have guessed his snot-rags would end up being such treasured and useful mementoes, but I bet he’s chuckling anyway.
And the final item of the dry eye detail: a few black elastic bands that are meant for putting long hair into ponytails. I did that when I had long hair, but now I wear them on my wrist to hold a few eyedrop vials so I can get to them anytime I need them, which is every couple of minutes. I used to do that with my nice Seiko watch, but the elastic ponytail bands work better, and I wasn’t using the watch as a watch anymore anyway.
I'll have my cane, of course, and a spare (both the folding kind). The CI (cochlear implant) detail is just as critical as the dry eye detail, but won't take up nearly as much space. The newer CI that I wear now uses two batteries every three days or so. The batteries come in packs of six, so each pack is good for about nine days. Four packs will be enough, plus two more just in case -- one to keep handy in my purse or jacket pocket, and another in case I need to use my spare CI, which is an older model and uses three batteries at a time instead of only two. The little case that holds the spare CI and extra parts is about the same size as one for sunglasses. I'll also take an audio cable (and a spare one) to jack my CI into my iPhone and iPad.
I’m ditching my old MacBook Pro laptop that I got just before I went to India, and now I am getting used to my new 12.9-inch iPad Pro. with Logitech case and keyboard. It's a lot lighter and smaller than the old laptop, and when I get used to it I am sure I’ll stop swearing at it. I’m sending this email from the laptop because the iPad is already packed. The last things I pack will be my Pebble hand-held CCTV/magnifier and the iPhone, for which I’ll have international service, and will use for communication, navigation, and book-listening. I was going to take my personal CD player to listen to books on the flight and during down times. I know, personal CD players are Neanderthal techno (but still not as prehistoric as cassettes and those old Sony cassette Walkmans, which I confess I still have and use). But this weekend my friend Ann Siprelle walked me through Audible.com and how to download books onto my iPhone and iPad. I’m a happy camper, now I can eliminate the CD player, those extra AA batteries, and that big fat 40-CDs-long book I was going to take.
Nothing like necessity and pressure of a big trip to ignite my feeble techie aptitude.
So ... Is there room for clothes? Just enough. I’m taking only four days’ worth. Longest I’m staying anywhere is a week in Lyon. I’ll be five days in Barcelona, and four to two days everywhere else. The nice thing about traveling in your 60s instead of your 20s is that instead of cheap hostels, you stay in nice four-star hotels, which provide amenities like shampoo (great for hand washing socks, undies and more), hair dryers (great for fast-drying those slower-drying just-washed clothes), and even irons (great for ironing dry those damp shirts). And nice hotels also provide dry cleaning and laundry services. If I really need something I didn’t pack, I can buy it after I get there.
And then there are the travel papers. The passport, of course. No visas required where we're going. I’ll have my master itinerary and all my flight itineraries and hotel confirmations printed out and marked in bold black felt-tip with date, flight number or hotel name, and confirmation nunber. In good lighting I can just make out my own large-print labels. And I have each flight and hotel reservation noted on its own 3 x 5 index card. Everything chronologically organized and accessible in my travel wallet. When you can’t hear or see worth beans to communicate in a strange land, handing over the essential information cuts down on the need to wade through tedious and stressful miscommunication. The hotel cards all have the address and phone numbers, so I can hand one to a taxi driver or whoever I am asking for help: “I need to go here” or “What train/bus do I take to get to this hotel at this address??” As I use them up, I throw them away.
And then there is money. I read somewhere you should figure out how much you need and then plan on spending three times that amount. Sounds like a good plan to me. These days, debit and credit cards make it all a lot easier than it used to be. I’ll take a debit card for use in ATM machines for local cash as needed, two credit cards, and a couple hundred US dollars in small bills.
Woo hoo!!! I’m all set. Next stop: Copenhagen.
After a couple days there, we'll take the train from Copenhagen to Gothenburg, Sweden and enjoy a Swedish Easter with a family Linda knows from a previous stay decades ago. Tuesday, April 18, we'll catch a flight to Amsterdam, where I’ll be waving to Gislin as he leaves after celebrating his mom’s 99th birthday. Linda and I will do the tulips with her Amsterdam friend, and then on Friday, April 21, we'll fly to London. Andy and Bill will meet us there on Saturday, April 22, and we’ll have a special birthday celebration for Andy’s last year in the fifth decade.
When Andy and I first started planning this trip two years ago, he insisted he could only be gone two weeks. Linda and Bill decided to join us, and Bill also insisted he couldn't be gone more than two weeks. Plus, they didn’t want to go anywhere they considered “too cold.” High temperatures in Scandinavia this time of the year range from the 40s to the 60s Fahrenheit, which Andy and Bill consider “too cold.”
Linda and I think Andy and Bill are a couple of wusses. We do the hot-flashing thing, and we think walking around all day in those non-freezing “too cold” temperatures is heaven compared to walking and sweating around all day in warm shirt-sleeve weather. Hence, Linda and I planned the trip and told the guys they could join us when they wanted.
So, after the guys join us in London, we’ll all have a few days there together, and then on Tuesday, April 25, Andy and I will take the Eurostar train under the English Channel to Paris. Then on Thursday, April 27, we’ll take the train down to Lyon, where I’m signed up for a week-long Road Scholar "French Cooking in Lyon, France" tour. Andy, bless his heart, is going to be my eyes and ears for the tour, which will involve morning cooking lessons and afternoon visits to vineyards and wineries; chocolate, pastry and cheese shops; and silk factories, museums and other points of interest.
Meanwhile, Linda and Bill will spend a few more days in England, a few days visiting other parts of France, and then meet us in Lyon. When my Road Scholar cooking tour ends on Thursday, May 4, we’ll all fly to Barcelona. Andy and Bill wend their way back home Sunday, May 7, while Linda and I will enjoy a couple more days in Barcelona before we fly back up to Copenhagen Tuesday,May 9. We’ll stay at an airport hotel that night and then catch our flight back to San Francisco on Wednesday, May 10.
The guys are supposed to meet us in San Francisco. Linda and I sure hope so, because we’d rather not hassle BART and/or Amttrak back home to Sacramento.
Since Linda and I plan to do as much as we can on foot and mass transit, we’re striving to pack as light as possible. And since I’m a blind lady hanging on to her elbow, it behooves me to make it as easy as possible for her to be my sighted guide. Among other things, this means keeping my own load as light as possible so she can handle her load plus me. So I'm getting everything. Into one carry-on size backpack and a smaller cross-body purse.
Switching gears to some other ways I am behooved to be a reasonable “guide-ee” for Linda … we both expressly understand that every now and then I will need to shut down (dry eye pain most likely cause), and every now and then Linda will need to go do stuff without me hanging on her elbow. So we’ll just work with that. And then there is our decision that we will make it a great time. Period. Whatever happens. We’ve already survived the usual communication snafus and other weirdnesses that go with the stresses of planning a trip like this together, and we’re still looking forward to taking off tomorrow.
And finally, expressly stated to Linda on my friend Liz Halperin’s orders, anytime I am unreasonably grouchy Linda has my permission to slap me back into line. And if I’m ever whiny, she has my permission to throw me from the train. (Even Liz admits I do not do whiny. Just grouchy and snarky, both better than whiny.)
So, back to packing light. It was a major accomplishment, getting everything I need for 29 days into one backpack and one cross-body purse, especially when I had to pack for complications. Disabilities, issues, whatever you want to call them. The acutely chronic and chronically acute dry eyes are my biggest issue. These days I'm using an average of 12 to 16 Tears Naturale Free vials every 24 hours -- I even wake up four to six times at night with my eyeballs painfully dry and stuck to my lids, and need to apply lubricating drops. For this 29-day trip, I'll need at least 348 vials. The Tears Naturale Free drops I use have about 60 individual vials in each box, so that's about 6 boxes right there. I'll supplement those with 3 or 4 tubes of Genteal gel drops, and a couple packages of Bion Tears, which are thicker than the Tears Naturale Free and not quite as thick as the Genteal gel drops. Once I’m in Europe, if I find I’m going through the drops too fast, and can’t find any there, I’ll have Andy bring me a supplemental supply.
Andy had to ship a supplemental supply to me in India four yeas ago. That trip was almost three months. I just didn't have room to pack all the drops I needed at once, and I wasn’t able to find more while I was in Bangalore.
Along with the eyedrops I'll take two of Dad's old cotton handkerchiefs, which I will dampen with warm water or tea while on the plane (or anywhere else as needed) and put over my eyes to soothe them and keep them hydrated. And one more dry handkerchief for wiping excess drops. And then two more to use as Dad used to: "One for blow and one for show!"
It used to be my job to iron Dad's handkerchiefs for him. When he died, I took all his handkerchiefs -- dozens of them — and now, almost 25 years later, I still have at least three dozen. I'll be packing 8 handkerchiefs in all for this trip. They’re small and lightweight, easily hand-washable, fast-drying, and work just fine unironed. I doubt Dad could ever have guessed his snot-rags would end up being such treasured and useful mementoes, but I bet he’s chuckling anyway.
And the final item of the dry eye detail: a few black elastic bands that are meant for putting long hair into ponytails. I did that when I had long hair, but now I wear them on my wrist to hold a few eyedrop vials so I can get to them anytime I need them, which is every couple of minutes. I used to do that with my nice Seiko watch, but the elastic ponytail bands work better, and I wasn’t using the watch as a watch anymore anyway.
I'll have my cane, of course, and a spare (both the folding kind). The CI (cochlear implant) detail is just as critical as the dry eye detail, but won't take up nearly as much space. The newer CI that I wear now uses two batteries every three days or so. The batteries come in packs of six, so each pack is good for about nine days. Four packs will be enough, plus two more just in case -- one to keep handy in my purse or jacket pocket, and another in case I need to use my spare CI, which is an older model and uses three batteries at a time instead of only two. The little case that holds the spare CI and extra parts is about the same size as one for sunglasses. I'll also take an audio cable (and a spare one) to jack my CI into my iPhone and iPad.
I’m ditching my old MacBook Pro laptop that I got just before I went to India, and now I am getting used to my new 12.9-inch iPad Pro. with Logitech case and keyboard. It's a lot lighter and smaller than the old laptop, and when I get used to it I am sure I’ll stop swearing at it. I’m sending this email from the laptop because the iPad is already packed. The last things I pack will be my Pebble hand-held CCTV/magnifier and the iPhone, for which I’ll have international service, and will use for communication, navigation, and book-listening. I was going to take my personal CD player to listen to books on the flight and during down times. I know, personal CD players are Neanderthal techno (but still not as prehistoric as cassettes and those old Sony cassette Walkmans, which I confess I still have and use). But this weekend my friend Ann Siprelle walked me through Audible.com and how to download books onto my iPhone and iPad. I’m a happy camper, now I can eliminate the CD player, those extra AA batteries, and that big fat 40-CDs-long book I was going to take.
Nothing like necessity and pressure of a big trip to ignite my feeble techie aptitude.
So ... Is there room for clothes? Just enough. I’m taking only four days’ worth. Longest I’m staying anywhere is a week in Lyon. I’ll be five days in Barcelona, and four to two days everywhere else. The nice thing about traveling in your 60s instead of your 20s is that instead of cheap hostels, you stay in nice four-star hotels, which provide amenities like shampoo (great for hand washing socks, undies and more), hair dryers (great for fast-drying those slower-drying just-washed clothes), and even irons (great for ironing dry those damp shirts). And nice hotels also provide dry cleaning and laundry services. If I really need something I didn’t pack, I can buy it after I get there.
And then there are the travel papers. The passport, of course. No visas required where we're going. I’ll have my master itinerary and all my flight itineraries and hotel confirmations printed out and marked in bold black felt-tip with date, flight number or hotel name, and confirmation nunber. In good lighting I can just make out my own large-print labels. And I have each flight and hotel reservation noted on its own 3 x 5 index card. Everything chronologically organized and accessible in my travel wallet. When you can’t hear or see worth beans to communicate in a strange land, handing over the essential information cuts down on the need to wade through tedious and stressful miscommunication. The hotel cards all have the address and phone numbers, so I can hand one to a taxi driver or whoever I am asking for help: “I need to go here” or “What train/bus do I take to get to this hotel at this address??” As I use them up, I throw them away.
And then there is money. I read somewhere you should figure out how much you need and then plan on spending three times that amount. Sounds like a good plan to me. These days, debit and credit cards make it all a lot easier than it used to be. I’ll take a debit card for use in ATM machines for local cash as needed, two credit cards, and a couple hundred US dollars in small bills.
Woo hoo!!! I’m all set. Next stop: Copenhagen.
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