even old New York was once New Amsterdam

I am just freshly returned from vacation with the whole weekend to recuperate and relax and let the thoughts and memories settle and sort. 

Seeing Istanbul was probably the most exotic exposure I have had, and while I am glad to come back to our little house in a city founded by Charlemagne himself, it amazes me that one can be in the capital of the Ottoman Empire, the capital of the Roman Empire, the seat of the Eastern Orthodox church at lunch time and then back in Unterfranken by mid-afternoon.

salut de Istanbul

H and I are having a fantastic time in the city. Here is a picture post card view of the Hagia Sofia from the terrace of our hotel.

by any other name

We are excitedly packing and rearranging the indoor topiary and landscaping to make it easier for our neighbor to manage watering this jungle of plantlife.  We'll be in Istanbul, Byzantium, Constantiople, and PfRC will be taking a short sabbatical.  I have read that the Turkish people have a slang designation for Germany--exonyms are a challenge, Deutschland--Frengistan or Frankistan.  I feel I have barely cracked the guidebook but we have already an overwhelming amount to explore.

when I know more of tactics than a novice in a nunnery

Though I do not presume to know more about the effects of invisible volcanic ash on jet engines than assembled experts, pilots and government by committee, there seems to be more and more of these events of extreme caution that cry wolf or rather swine flu that's left us with an embarassment of spoiled vaccine doses or nacked body-scanners or firewalls.  Twinkle-twinkle, little bat--how I wonder where you're at... I hate to sound angry and second-guess good intentions--I feel like a tea party-goer.  It is not as if the internet, however, was invented for seediness or miscreants, nor the miracle of flight for underpants bombers, nor Mortimer J. Marker or spray-paint for huffing.  More protections are afforded for the abusers and we are kept too safe for misguided reasons.

led zepplin or come josephine in my flying machine

Maybe it is time that someone offered a ritual sacrifice to Eyjafjallajökull (or Kajagoogoo, it's easier to pronounce) and appease the pyroplastic blast.  Tens of thousands are still grounded at the far corners of the Earth, mail is delayed, and soon markets and economies reliant on imports will start experiencing shortages, and over-production in export markets will spoil in warehouses.  Aside from human traffic, it is astounding how a small disruption can reveberate.  With a second series of eruptions promised, I think it would be pretty keen to see the return to those days of people whizzing about in bi-planes, airships and punting in hot-air balloons.

wahltag

I switched on my Windows laptop at home--we use a Mac and my work computer masquarades as a States-side PC, and this strange pop-up greeted me at start-up.  I thought at first it was some invasive spam but when I tried to ignore it, it persisted with credentials from the EU.  I suppose that this is a result from the EU litigation against MicroSoft for failing to give users a choice when it comes to using the browser, and by extension the, the operating system of their choice.  Having no freedom of choice for your computer is disheartening and no company should have a monopoly, but it is even more disconcerting to have the selection-round thrust up on one by a litigious bureaucracy and a bit scary that such democracy can be spread, virally through the Inter-webs.

baudolino

On Sunday, H and I took a trip north to the foothills of the Harz in Thuringia to see the Kyffhaeuser national monument, a really impressive and imposing affair, the little surrounding villages and a recreation of a middle ages settlement of Emperor Otto II, and the immense cave that is Emperor Barbarossa's hiding place where he waits to return--athough I called him Barbossa (the captain from Pirates of the Carribbean which would surely incur some teutonic wrath).   
Baudolinois a 2000 novel by the masterful Umberto Eco that retells the story of Barbarossa's adventures to Constantinople and Terra Incognito as narrated by an accomplished liar--seeing the sites and our tour guide on our spelunking trip made me think of the tall tales.  Please stay tuned to our little travel Blog for more of the story.

nothing but bluebirds all day long

The day Saturday seemed amazingly reflective and still, notwithstanding a wedding ceremony and reception at noon, and the murmurings of travel chaos and the local chaos of a fire at the clinic that culminated in the safe and orderly evacuation of a couple hundred patients.  It was gloriously and fully spring time, and the day began with disco shower: the LEDs are powered by the water-pressure and the color indicates the water temperature.
After the service, I sauntered around our fair city and found some hidden gardens that I did not realize were there before, and remarked on the cloudless sky--which was also conspicuously absent any aircraft. 

Not on a major jetway and with only a hobby airport, contrails are not constantly streaking and criss-crossing the sky, but the skies above usually have some traffic.  I imagined that it would be very strange for H returning from a seminar and passing Frankfurt airport with all activity on hold.  A German airline, realizing longer delays would become untenable, have dispatched a few test-flights between Munich and Frankfurt, and pointed to the lack of catastrophic engine failure as a sign that the invisible volcanic ash is a myth.  I only am hoping that the dust settles before next week and mounting delays do not disrupt our travel plans.