by Lil Cromer
Over a leisurely pool side lunch with two of the gentlemen, I learned that many hosts have backgrounds in the areas of business, law, finance, travel, medicine, education and military service.
A gentlemen host makes interacting with people always delightful. Socializing is an art and, as in all the arts, there is absolute commitment required. Although times have changed, a host is considered a contemporary example of a chivalrous gentleman displaying only the most polished etiquette. Several times I observed women, who obviously didn’t comprehend the basics of dancing, repeatedly step on the polished shoes of these hosts. Never once were these men anything but courteous and pleasant.
The hosts refrain from showing favoritism towards any particular lady or group and, as a matter of fact, are committed to a strong code of honor and moral ethics. Remember these gentlemen hosts are for dancing, not romancing.
From my perch at the end of the bar I observed the excellent manners of these very personable gentlemen. They truly enjoyed dancing and conversing with single women. My new friend Dot, a recent widow, was nervous about accepting an offer to dance, but by the end of the cruise was the belle of the ball. A couple of the gentlemen even confided in her, relating snippets of their own personal lives.
An elderly widow, a Bridge Life Master, found an excellent duplicate bridge partner in one host from the Midwest. Another woman was as excited as a baby taking its first steps when one host taught her the mechanics of shuffleboard.
Lest you think these senior men are paunchy and over-the-hill you should have been on the Lido deck when we traversed the canal. I ogled one imposing host from Canada in his royal blue Speedo®. Whew! Almost as breathtaking as Gatun Lake.
All the hosts were immaculately groomed with great wardrobes, consisting of black tuxedoes, white dinner jackets, navy blazer, white pants and white shoes, not to mention stylish casual clothes.
These men were not only good listeners but good conversationalists as well. One host from the West related he still receives cards of appreciation from a widow he met several years ago on a cruise. She’s never ceased thanking him for restoring her self-esteem.
The lack of an escort shouldn’t preclude you or anyone else from enjoying a cruise. You won’t be sorry when one of the cordial hosts extends a hand and asks, “May I have the pleasure of this dance.”
The Great Rivers of Europe — 2016
This cruise offered by Grand Circle Travel sounded like the perfect way to experience my first river cruise. Wending our way from Vienna to Amsterdam down the Danube, the Main and the Rhine through sixty-six locks proved to be a grand experience. This trip was everything it purported to be.
Tampa, FL recently offered nonstop service to Frankfurt, so I elected to fly on this Lufthansa flight. The eight and half hour flight was as comfortable as it can be wedged into seats that barely fit American bodies; they were obviously designed for smaller travelers, like the Japanese. Lufthansa offered complimentary cocktails as well as current academy award nominated movies. I availed myself to both. I sat next to a Muslim girl complete with hijab. She ate everything in sight; said she was on her way to Jordan, a trip that would take twenty-four hours.
The Frankfurt airport must have been designed by folks on drugs. My overseas flight landed far away from the terminal, and then we trudged down rickety stairs, boarded a bus packed like sardines, for a fifteen minute ride to the terminal. After going through immigration check, all were routed through a huge duty free shopping area. Signage left a lot to be desired.
There were only 150 passengers on board the ship and an energetic crew who catered to our every wish. It’s interesting to note that the entire crew hailed from Eastern Europe save one man from Portugal, all sporting big smiles. Like in many parts of the world the “th” sound can’t be made; it took a bit of getting used to the crew and the program directors saying tree instead of three or dis instead of this.
I treated myself to two massages during the two weeks. The therapist, a big Hungarian gal named Orsi, deftly plied her strong, therapeutic hands to my weary body. The travelers were split into four color-coded groups, mine being the blue group with a feisty program director named Marloes. She has a “boyfriend” in nearly every town — bronze statues of saints. All four program directors were from the Netherlands, all quick witted. Grand Circle Travel sets high standards for their employees and it shows.
On the cruise, I met some interesting people from all over the US. Happy hour is a major part of the day onboard after touring the towns. My seat, second from the left end of the bar, was occupied every night at 5:00. Soon the fearless five had staked out this end of the bar — myself, and two fun couples from Florida. We enjoyed ourselves so much that many of the other travelers stopped by each night to share a laugh or two. Our two bartenders, Egor and Georgi, talked us into buying the wine packages, a good investment. They took good care of us.
My favorite bartenders Georgi and Egor
Unlike huge cruise ships with Las Vegas style entertainment, these river boats bring aboard local entertainment and guest speakers. During the two weeks we were entertained and educated by a host of locals like a Shanty choir composed of retired German men with beer bellies. One day a glassblower came onboard and demonstrated his craft. Near the end of the cruise, the crew put on an outstanding show complete with costumes. German dancers, all seniors, demonstrated folk dances then chose folks out of the audience to participate. One guy refused to follow the steps and instead broke out into a polka causing the surprised German woman to pant and gasp. Two women who were children during the Holocaust came aboard to tell their stories.
We boarded the ship in Vienna, a place I’d visited before. It’s not my favorite city, in spite of the beautiful Neo-Classic architecture; the city is crowded and expensive. We took a motor coach tour around the Ringstrasse, an elegant 2.5 mile long boulevard then a walking tour passing by the Imperial Palace and the famous Spanish Riding School. At the end of our tour we met a twenty year old Syrian immigrant who was granted asylum in Vienna. He told the story of his father fleeing with his family after ISIS asked him to join a killing raid. We asked if he was a Muslim, he said he was but didn’t practice Islam. I wanted to know if he intended to assimilate into the Viennese culture. He said he already has — his roommates are German, Dutch and Austrian.
Our first day of sailing took us through the Wachau Valley with acres and acres of terraced vineyards and flower fields stopping in Melk to visit a 900 year old baroque abbey situated on a steep cliff. Thankfully buses took us up to the top. It’s an imposing structure that today is an active monastery, housing over 70,000 books and a school. And of course we viewed the church, a kaleidoscope of red, orange and gold.
Our next port was Passau, Germany, an elegant little town that used to be the German culture hub. As we pulled up to the dock it began to snow. The flakes were as large as silver dollars making this little town look like a wonderland. The town’s claim to fame is St. Stephen’s Cathedral which is home to the world’s largest pipe organ.
Sailing all night we arrived at Regensburg, Germany’s largest medieval city that was undamaged during WWII. Two highlights were Germany’s oldest bridge, the Stone Bridge and of course another Cathedral, St. Peter’s. But after seeing St. Peter’s in Rome most of the others pale in comparison. Some travelers like to use the term ABC tours, another bloody cathedral or castle, which is exactly how I feel. After the walking tour I enjoyed some tasty sausages the size of an index finger and of course good German beer. Unlike in the US, the basket of bread on the table is not complimentary, you’re charged by the slice.
That night we were to walk under the Stone Bridge about ¾ of a mile from the ship to enjoy a folk show and a schnitzel dinner at a local restaurant. My arthritic knee pulsated with pain from all the walking over cobblestone streets so I decided to be proactive in the interest of safety. A fellow traveler from Michigan had spoken to me a few times at the bar, so I asked if he would mind loaning me his arm for the
walk to the restaurant, he said he’d be glad to — we cleared it with his wife. Piling on our winter clothes we disembarked. I grabbed Mr. Michigan’s arm and started walking when his wife turned around and pitched a major fit. He apologized, let go of my arm and rushed to catch up with her. You readers must know that yours truly is about as non-threatening as they come — overweight, gray hair and nearly seventy.
I made my way to the restaurant safely as it was still daylight. We were seated at long tables for the German dinner with plenty of beer, wine and enthusiastic oom pah pah music. One man at the table, from Florida, was at least 6’7” tall and a lot of fun. I asked him and his wife if I could take his arm on the walk back, no problem. The three of us enjoyed lively repartee as we made our way back to the ship. Almost to the dock we had to negotiate a flight of steps down; I stumbled on the last step, my knight caught me. The next morning at breakfast I went to thank Mr. Florida again to which he quipped, “I wrote in my journal this morning that this was the first time on a cruise that a woman literally fell into my arms.” Just goes to show you the various kinds of personalities you meet while traveling.
Grand Circle Travel’s policy is to provide learning experiences to their travelers and offer home-hosted visits. This trip it was a Kaffeeklatsch in a small village called Beilngries at the formidable home of a sixty something school teacher. Katarina told us that Germany generally follows the track system; if students can’t pass exams they are not permitted to enter university. When I asked her why she signed on with GCT as a hostess, she relayed the following. Back in the early 70s, she and a friend traveled to the U.S. without a plan. They landed in NYC and while sleeping in the airport they met some folks who could speak German who invited them to stay with them. From there the generous hospitality of Americans snowballed. One girl said her grandparents lived in FL but we’re traveling to Europe so her condo was available. Katarina said she and her friend traveled all over the states. She vowed that if she were ever in a position to reciprocate she would. And that’s why she opens her home to Americans traveling with GCT.
Nuremburg was an interesting stop. The city was heavily bombed during WWII but rebuilt and is now a bustling industrial and commercial city. Our local guide, Anna, a transplanted American, possessed a vast knowledge of German history. We visited Zeppelin Field where the Nazis held propaganda rallies for 100,000 people. The presentation in the court room where the Nuremburg trials were held was both impressive and eerie.
Grand Circle Travel, for some unknown reason, invited a member of the National Democratic Party (NDP) on board to speak. Program directors and crew were not happy. The NDP resembles neo Nazis. The boy was uneducated, less than honest, hedged tough questions and was fiercely anti immigration. I asked if his party of 5000 wanted to make Germany great again, ala Hitler. Earlier, Anna, local guide, told us the neo-Nazi party wants people like her out of the country. Anna was born in the U.S., studied in Nuremberg, fell in love with another student, and now has a child who is in college. Anna speaks flawless German and works, yet these idiots in the NDP want her banned as she is not native born. They also don’t believe all people are equal. Had Germans read Mein Kampf, they would have understood Hitler’s plan for a pure Aryan Society. His campaign slogan was, “I will make Germany great again.”
Here are some miscellaneous facts about Germany. Folks in Germany are upset about the mass influx of immigrants. There was talk of removing Angela Merkel because of her lenient stand on immigration. When Germans are baptized, they automatically are required to pay a church tax of 7% for the rest of their lives unless they opt out and renounce their religion. Germany is about the size of Montana; it founded the European Union, has a large Turkish population and is the home to profound analytical thinkers and spouting philosophers like Freud, Hitler and Martin Luther.
Germans have a reputation for pushing ahead — they are bold, brassy and speak their minds, like the waitress mentioned below in Bamberg. They can be on the stoic side and not overly friendly. The average German drinks a pint of beer every thirty-two hours. They are cosmopolitan, two thirds speak English. Their schools are high quality; the Germans put their kids on either the fast or slow track depending on ability and desire. Everybody loves dogs in Germany; thank goodness they’re on leashes. I noted that unlike Italy, Germany has plenty of WCs, most are free, most super clean.
On a bus ride one day we drove on the autobahn with no speed limits. Seat belts on buses are mandatory. We laughed over signs that included “fahrt.” For example Ausfahrt which means exit. Fahrtenheit means drive. Guetag Fahrtenheit means good trip.
Trying to locate English newspapers was a real challenge. Marloes wanted to know why I just didn’t read an electronic version, it’s not the same, no crossword puzzles etc. The ship did provide a condensed copy of USA Today, and CNN news was available on TV. A few travelers were reading real books rather than e-books on Kindles.
On every tour there’s always one traveler who is a PITA — this trip was no exception. We called her Ms. Maps as each day she pulled out her map and plagued Marloes with questions as we took a walking tour of the city. Marloes exhibited great patience with the woman, not an easy task. As far as I know, Ms. Maps never struck out on her own after the walking tours, so why she continually asked annoying questions about location remains a mystery.
Many of the German towns we stopped at seem to run together and it was hard keeping track of them. One small town called Bamberg proved interesting as it has the most breweries per capita in the world. They’re famous for a smoked beer made with malted barley dried over an open flame. Our program director insisted we try some. So at 10:30 on a Saturday morning we piled into a pub for a smoked beer. Our robust waitress was curt when I asked for a small glass, “One size, one kind, don’t ask for anything else!” It must be an acquired taste, the beer tasted like bacon to me.
We visited Rottenburger, a well-preserved medieval town on Palm Sunday, many shops and museums were closed. Sampled a snowball, fried dough strips with icing around it, not too exciting. The bishops lived in palaces as opulent as those the royalty lived in. What a scam! Near the town I grew up in Indiana they built an outdoor stations of the cross that I took my mom to see. I asked what the huge building was on the hill overlooking the property. Turns out the bishop had built a multi-million home just for himself. Pope Francis is trying to get a handle on this waste and arrogance; I’m wishing him good luck with that project. Money put in collection boxes in the Catholic Church is going for legal fees and settlement for abuse by priests and to help bishops build classy manses.
Along a scenic stretch of the Rhine lined with castles, churches and houses, we listened to a program director’s narration. Most of us elected to stay inside rather than on the rainy deck and eat sausages on pretzel rolls and drink beer. Lorelei’s rock prominently stands along the river. Legend has it that this nymph sang songs to lure sailors to the rocks where they crashed.
Our last stop was Amsterdam which is one damn unique city with 80% tourists and my favorite. It’s an unpretentious, anti-status city and most everyone speaks English. It’s said that folks visiting for the first time want to throw up everything and live this way forever and others who just want to throw up. I’m in the former category.
I asked one of the staff members on the ship about Amsterdam. She said on her first visit she felt like she was in a framed painting and couldn’t get out — what imagery!
Amsterdam is the capital of the Netherlands, a tiny country half the size of Maine. A liberal (hash, marijuana and prostitution all legal) cosmopolitan international business center with a live and let live mentality. It’s like a big village. It’s called the second Venice as it has more bridges and canals than Venice. By 2020 half of the population is expected to be immigrants, much of it Muslim
The Dutch people are unique. They may be the world’s most handsome people — tall, healthy, and with good posture — and open, honest, and refreshingly blunt. As connoisseurs of world cult
ure, they appreciate Rembrandt paintings, Indonesian food, and the latest French films, but with an un-snooty, blue-jeans attitude. Un-snooty, but not un-sooty — a third of the Dutch people smoke tobacco. Holland has a long tradition as a smoking culture, being among the first to import the tobacco plant from the New World. Smoking seems to be part of an overall diet and regimen that, no denying it, somehow makes the Dutch people among the healthiest in the world. Tanned-and-trim, a sixty something Dutchman sipped his beer, took a drag, and asked me why Americans murder themselves with Big Macs.
After a canal ride and a walking tour, I broke away from the group and had lunch and drinks in the city, bought a wheel of Gouda, a vibrator and a post card. Swarovski crystals are embedded in pink vibrators for $189.00 euros. When I asked a sex shop owner who would want one he said, “Beats me, why would anybody want a pink vibrator?”
Bars in Amsterdam are called brown cafes; you could get high just standing outside on the sidewalk. I noticed those drinking were laughing and happy, but those smoking marijuana looked sad and withdrawn. I met reportedly the oldest man in the city, ninety-six, who drank his beer each day at noon at the table in the window. I wanted to talk with him but the bartender said he spoke no English. He seemed like a happy well-adjusted man.
Bicycles are the main mode of transportation; they have the right of way in dedicated bike lanes and will run you down if you encroach. There seems to be no rules of the road for biking. I nearly got hit while crossing a street on the way back to the ship as I was lost and not concentrating.
The Red Light district was interesting. Nationalities are separated and there are blue lights for the transgendered. The black sex workers are from Ethiopia and believe in voodoo. Story goes that years ago pubic hair and fingernails were taken from the girls to put a curse on them so they would be subservient. Some are even having kids and grooming them to be prostitutes. The government is considering moving the district to the west end of the city with the thought that newer buildings make it harder to hide human trafficking.