On Thursday, September 17, every single member of the "Thompson" family (3) reunited in Geneva. My parents stayed here in Lausanne for about a week, and I kept them moving every day. There were roadtrips to remote mountain peaks with only the sound of cow bells penetrating the thick, chilly fog. There were midieval (sp?) castles explored. There was fondue, of course. Coffee. Chocolate. You know, all the things you can get "exactly the same" back in NC. We rode train after train, scenic tours featuring alpine beauty that no city could begin to capture. It was great to see my family, and I look forward to more visits in the future. Here are my parents at Chateau Chillon just east of Montreux along Lac Lèman (Lake Geneva):
After the parting of the ways back in Geneva (everyone seems to be getting better at this by the way - soon the need for counseling may no longer even be a concern!), I headed back to Lausanne for a day or two before boarding the 6:20am train for Munich and Oktoberfest. There I met my friends Joe and Laura from Charlotte for the weekend. There were beer steins, there were brats, there was weinerschitzel, and good times had by all. On Sunday, we found a spot at the tables outside the Hofbrauhaus tent and parked there from a little after 11am til 8pm. Long day, but it passed quickly with our new local friends Susi, Stephan, and Anita. They first thought that Joe and Laura were my parents (this is getting old, people), but we moved past that. Below is a pic of me and my new parents, then me and Susi. Ich bin ein Münchener!
With another week of vaca (or "holidays" as they say here...annoyingly), I left Munich headed south to Austria. Innsbruck was a beautiful little town, and I'd love to get back there sometime when I can stay longer. It hosted the winter Olympics twice ('64 and '72 I think), and one leftover is the giant ski jump that I hiked to the top of (renovated in 2002). They can actually jump year round, so there were a couple guys just going round and round, riding the lift up, then jumping into thin air on the way back down. Pretty cool. Below is the landing area with Innsbruck in the valley below and some nearby logging (reasons for this explained below).
Next day, on to Italy. I was supposed to stop in this little town of Bolzano, but the train gods were not on my side that Tuesday. First, the Austrian ticket counter seller man told me the wrong platform, so I missed the train out of Innsbruck and had to wait another 2 hours for the next (but in the meantime I went to the park and got my Jason Bourne Supremacy on), effectively ending hopes of getting to Bolzano's "ice man" museum. Then, when I finally made it on the right train (note: despite the fact that he told me the wrong platform yet again) to Verona. There, since the train was going on to Milan, I asked around whether it would stop in Brescia (home of Mark and Dana) along the way. No one spoke English, but then this apparently very well-traveled American business man gave me his two cents: "Oh, yes, I take this train all the time; it definitely stops in Brescia." Famous last words. Ninety minutes later, I found myself in Milan frantically searching for a ticket counter opened at 9:30pm. No counter, but thanks to a ticketless dude and a drunk kid who'd travled all the way from Berlin that day, I got where I need to go, arriving in Brescia only 2.5 hours late. Thanks to Mark's taco salad, I didn't go hungry.While in Brescia visiting the recently un-deported Southards, I took a couple day trips to Desanzano and to Venice. With Dana working, Mark was an excellent tour guide. Below is Desanzano's quaint coastline on Lake Garda.
Venice, while of course one of the most unique cities you'll ever visit, turns out to be one of the most touristy cities as well. It's really tough to see that anything other than tourism takes place there (there was no PwC office in site). We took the waterbus down the Grand Canal, wandered the narrow, winding, carless streets, toured all around St. Mark's Square, including the bascilica, and had some great eats. I am a HUGE fan of the "piadine" these days. While I like Mark a lot, we didn't take a gondola tour together. Even if we had wanted to, I think the middle-aged Japanese men had the market cornered.
Back in Brescia that night, the three of us went out for a traditional Italian meal. My entree of cavatelli was very good, but the main story was the antipastas they brought out sort of as appetizers. Delicious. The first looked terrible, but it was the best eggplant dish I've ever eaten. There was also salami, cheese, and bread, but the little round onions stewed in balsamic vinegar were my favorite. Not sure the name of this hole in the wall place, but it was very small, not heavily trafficed, and had its daily menu written in chalk up on the wall.I returned from my travels on Friday, October 2 from Italy. The 4.5 hour train ride was long and initially very crowded, but I had no connections, which was a nice change. Back in Lausanne, I opened my computer to find 200+ emails. Gave up on that pretty quick. Then came facebook, where I learned that the father of a very close family friend had passed away earlier that same day. Not to be outdone, my mother tells me on the phone that shes in the emergency room with my grandfather. These sorts of things make you want never to go on vacation.
The next morning, I rested up and started to get organized for the busy week ahead. But another phone call from home put a stop to all those plans: my grandfather had passed away. He'd been taken by an aggressive virus that showed its face Friday morning and took about 12 hours to do it's damage. Lee was not a well man, having just turned 87 the previous Monday and going to dialysis three days a week for around three years. But nonetheless it came as a shock to us all. I honestly thought I'd make it back to see him again before his time would come. So I quickly made the necessary arrangements, and after flying Geneva-Frankfort-Philadelphia-New York-Raleigh on Sunday, made it back for the funeral the following day. It wasn't the reason I wanted to be visiting home, but it was still good to see the family after four months abroad.
The logs in the picture above were for Lee. He was a tree man, having logged for many years before turning to the crisote plant. I suppose the Innsbruck ski jump would have been interesting to him, but the fact that logging was going on just next to it would have put it all into perspective somehow. The pics were taken on Monday, September 28...Lee's birthday. I'd tried to call him when I got into the hotel, but ended up leaving a message since he was probably at dialysis. It's tough that I didn't get to speak with him one last time...to wish him a happy birthday personally...to tell him about those damn logs. But I'm told he got the message, and I'm thankful that for some reason he could easily understand me on the phone despite his lately deteriorating hearing. Lee will be missed, and the family will not be the same, but we are comforted in knowing that he has finally found the final peace that we all one day seek.
That gets us about up to date. I came back from NC and immediately began PMI's quartlerly review...still ongoing. Finally got out of my co-worker's guest bedroom and into my own place...nearly 2 months after the fire took out my other one. Things are slowly getting back to normal. I leave you will a funny pic. Mark tried to get me to buy this for Dana in Venice and carry it around all day in my backpack...
