Prague

ok, I finally figured out how to get to my blog via my iPad. I've only posted from my computer before. So, here goes:

Tuesday--Wednesday, May 1-2

Left Ed and Kris's house way earlier than we needed to because Bob noticed that the airlines had gotten my name wrong on the ticket, adding "jr" after my name. Big warnings: ticket name must match name on passport. NO changes allowed." So we headed off to Miami way early to see what could be done. Got there to find no one expected at check-in until 5:00. When they opened, the nice young woman said, "Oh, no problem. I can fix that for you." And she did. Max hassle for absolutely nothing.

Mostly uneventful trip in steerage. Better than average food.  Nice service. Not too long a layover Istanbul.  Beautiful spring evening when we arrived. Lovely, perfect weather the whole time. Our apartment is in the old town, just a block from the river and on the edge of the Old Jewish Quarter.  Our building is late 19th C, high ceilings, 5th floor with a lift.  Nothing fancy but clean, tidy, and very convenient.  We haven't used the kitchen at all, even for coffee.  We have cafes on our block and all around us. 

The city is so beautiful, with the architecture, brick streets, and very, very old.  Luckily (well, because of German occupation--not so lucky), it missed the destruction of WWII. So the feel is very much that of a medieval city, sort of Bruges but bigger and busier, more cosmopolitan. On our first full day here, we had a personal guide through the old Jewish quarter, visiting several old synagogues, now used as museums, and the two still active congregations, all within just a few square blocks.

Our guide was very good, Czech not Jewish, with wide knowledge of the history and several languages. Born in 1975 whil Czechoslovakia was still under soviet control, he left to study in Rome at age 15 as soon as the communist government fell.  Interesting man, still quite bitter about the Russian control. Interesting bit: VE Day is May 8, and on May 9th, 1945, Russian tanks rolled into Prague.  Very hard to imagine so many decades, from one restrictive government to another.

Dinner that night, however, was  at a Georgian (Russian) restaurant directly across the street from our flat. While advertised as Georgian, the walls are decorated with  Cossack uniforms and hats, pictures--nothing from Georgia as far as we could tell.  We speculated that it's kept here by the oligarchs as a familiar place to eat while doing business in Prague. Good food, the best borscht I've ever had.

So yesterday we toured the other side of the river, Prague Castle, St. Vitus church-- set on a hill with wonderful views of the city.  Beautiful gothic cathedrals all over, and old squares connecting the various parts of the city.  I think I have my days mixed up, but I know that Friday night we went Shabbat eve services at the Spanish Synagogue.  It was built in 1868 as a reform synagogue to replace a traditional one built in the 12th C. Built, I believe, to honor the Jews expelled by Spain in 1492, the design is Moorish influenced by the Alhambra in Spain, with such intricate detail.  Here' s one website www.Jewishmuseum.cz. 

There are concerts going on all over the city with many of them just outside our door.  Last night we attended a concert at Tyn Church, a huge cathedral on the Old Town Square, built in 1385, immense and ornate. The program, the Royal Czech Orchestra, included Vivaldi's Four Seaons, Sping and Summer, and I'm going to stop here and continue because the website is acting up 

Coupla months later......

Remember this???? Check it out first and then come back for more:

Do It Acapella

I was messing around on YouTube looking for something entirely different--a melody for the seder--and Take Six popped up.  So I went on a little trip down memory lane.  That sound took me back 30 years (don't think about it!). So I followed that road through YouTube and jumped ahead to this:

Interview with Take Six on All Things Considered, August 2017

Hello, guys! Nice to see you again--all grown up .......and a little bit out.  Have a listen.

But while I was listening I heard them talking about touring with ....wait for it...Manhattan Transfer!! Wow! So I went searching for that and found several links, but I like this one.  Oh, how I wish I could have been there--a sing-off between two great jazz groups:

Berkshire Jazz Festival 2016

And in case you thought Take Six could only sing, look at this:

Brazilian Rythmn

And, finally, to go way, way back to the long, hot summer of 1975 in Milton, Florida (Yes,THAT summer!), I give you our favorite show, a summer replacement with these four crazy people who could really sing.  We never missed it.

Manhattan Transfer TV Show 1975  and this one, too.

please respond to met me know you read this post.  Thanks!

Backtracking to Day One: Vacation from Hell

Since I haven’t been keeping up with this vacation, I thought I would try to start from Day 1 and try to recreate it from the beginning. It may not get finished but here’s a start anyway.

Saturday, January 6

We left Ajijic in the morning—not early but not late.  We had unloaded most of the things we had boxed up from the house and put them in the storage room by the garage at our own house.  James had evidently had Ricky clean it up and get it ready for us so we had plenty of room.  We were staying with a friend, Jan Braverman, who lives just a few blocks from us in Ajijic.  We left some things at her house that we didn’t want to store in the garage bodega (the Mexican word for storage room). We only packed with us the clothes we would need here, some food, Daisy’s stuff, etc.  

Beautiful day as always, especially this time of year.  Everyone there had been complaining about how cold it had been—chilly at night (as low as upper 40s) but warm in the daytime, 70s.

There’s a new bypass to the west and north that we picked up well south of the airport.  As you get well past Guadalajara, the highway turns more westerly and it’s a beautiful drive—mountains and green valleys.  We were high on the side of a mountain range and could see the town of Tequila below us.  One day we’re going to take a trip there.  Less than 3 hours or so, we began the road begins to climb steeply because that’s the only way to get over the Sierra Madre to get to the coast.  Then the steep descent to turn to the south on the road that bypasses all the villages on the west coast.  These used to be small, simple fishing villages, but as Puerto Vallarta developed to the north, that expansion helped turned the villages into cheaper and less tourist-jazzy than PV.  We got to San Pancho (real name San Francisco) in about 4 ½ hours.

Once we got to San Pancho, very small, there’s one main street that leads directly to the beach on the ocean.  We remembered that but remarked on how many more shops and restaurants than from 9 years ago.  Turning north, parallel to the ocean, we took the road that leads up and up to get to the bluffs higher above.  The road hasn’t changed at all.  It’s about 2 ½ miles on a windy, twisty dirt road—passable for two cars in some places but not all.  Along this road as you rise above the town are properties of varying sizes, but you can’t see them since they’re all situated on the west side, that overlooks the ocean.  With Susan’s directions and our dim memory of before, we managed to find the villas again.

The road actually ends there at the top, then there’s a very narrow road that twists down the western slope.  Along this smaller road (which is a small community of half a dozen properties), you’re surrounded by the jungle with coconut and date palms, tall trees similar to rubber trees, and very thick undergrowth.  At the end of the road (again) are the villas.  There’s a wide parking area, a two-story building with a garage and storage/laundry room below and one of the palapas above on the second floor.  From this vantage, you can hear the ocean but can’t see it.  A brick path of steps and walkways leads down to the two other palapa villas and the large common area palapa.  Each of these are along the brick path through the jungle, dropping down one by one.  Ours, Iguana, is on the left with Sunflower (the large one) just below.  Along the west side of Sunflower are two decks, the pool, and the path continues to the third palapa, Mariposa, with the steps continuing down the steep slope to the small beach and huge rocks below, where the breakers smash in.

Picture (not from us) of what the bluffs look like, looking back from the ocean.

Our first impression was of shabbiness.  The outdoor furniture—well, it’s all outdoors—appeared to be the same furniture and cushions as when we were here before.  On the top deck, same level as the common area and kitchen, are white resin tables and chairs with very sad-looking cushions.  On the deck below, the infinity pool looked the same, sparkling and inviting.  (Whoever invented the idea of infinity pools was brilliant.) The edge of the pool fades into the vista of the Pacific.  But around the pool, again, were ugly white resin lounge chairs with faded cushions that were probably new in 2008.  Inside the main palapa, the kitchen looked pretty much the same, except the oven door is rusty and the small appliances in need of cleaning and/replacement.  The dining room table was surrounded by 6 chairs with faded seat cushions and chair backs whose veneer was visibly peeling—badly and so ugly.  We were pretty shocked at the condition.

Our palapa was the same, two double beds with mosquito netting but ok as far as comfort.  The bathroom similar with sink, toilet, and shower.  There are walls for privacy there but the top of the walls open into the high palapa roof.  Again, no real difference.

Time to fix dinner.  But first, I had to clean the surfaces in the kitchen, unplug the toaster and coffee maker to clean them thoroughly and wash whatever pans we were using.  The grill we had enjoyed so much before was ok (outdoors, after all), but the basket for fish or whatever was rusty and unusable.  There was wood for the grill but not mesquite as we had before.

At this point we were very disappointed and embarrassed because we had friends arriving the next day.  We took notes, made a list, and got ready for bed.  And that’s when I discovered the mildew-smelling pillows. I. Hate. The. Smell. Of. Mildew. But we set up Daisy’s kennel to block the open entrance to the palapa and went to bed.  We were not happy campers.  And by the way, some people may remember how much I hate camping.

Nevertheless, we had little choice.  The closest real hotel that takes pets is the Westin in Nueva Vallarta, about an hour away.  So we went to sleep with the glorious sound of the surf breaking below.

So far, only a couple of positive things: the incredible view and the sound of the waves about 150 ft below.

To be continued.