Military

France and Germany… a send off from the Army– Part 11

After two nights at Hotel Goldinger, Bill and I decided to get a room at Ramstein.  We had actually been thinking we’d try to leave Germany on Friday, the 30th of May, but there weren’t any flights going out.  The Air Force lodge at Ramstein is within walking distance of the passenger terminal, which makes it really convenient.  We booked for two nights, hoping that we wouldn’t need both nights.  This was my first time staying at the Air Force lodging at Ramstein and, I must say, I was impressed by how nice it was, especially considering that it only cost $55 a night.  I did think it was funny that there was a check list for bomb threats by the phone.


We were given a room that reminded me of something I might see in a Hilton.  There are American plugs in the rooms, which makes it easy to charge iPads, iPhones, and whatever else have you.  There are laundry facilities that people can use free of charge.  All you need is soap.  The inn is also connected to the largest BX/PX I have ever seen.  In fact, the BX/PX complex is like a big mall.

I was glad to be able to wash clothes and Bill went to Chili’s to get us some lunch.  Later, after the clothes were washed and dried, we walked around the big AAFES complex and I was reminded of when we lived in Germany.  There are a lot of local vendors/artisans there that make knick knacks and gifts.

It looked like there were going to be a couple of flights leaving Ramstein on Saturday, though neither of them were offering many seats for Space A travelers.  I had a feeling we could be staying at Ramstein for two nights.  We passed time at Chili’s and talked to a soldier who was living in Germany under sad circumstances.  I posted about that on my main blog, so I won’t rehash it here.

The next morning, Bill picked up some pastries and coffee at a bakery and then we made our way to the pax terminal.  There were lots of people there, many of whom had apparently been trying to get out of Germany for days.  An airman announced that roll call for a flight to Hunter Airfield in Savannah, Georgia would be in 20 minutes.  The flight to Georgia was a surprise.  It wasn’t noted on Ramstein’s Facebook page; so it was a lucky thing that we were there at the right time.

We had been planning to go for a flight to McGuire Air Force Base in New Jersey, but when Bill heard the call for Georgia, he wanted to sign up.  The flight had six seats available and, as Bill was a cat 3 who’d signed up for Space A when we first arrived in Germany two weeks earlier, he was at the top of the list.  We easily made the flight and were soon on our way back to the States in a C-17 with four others.

One of the few places dogs aren’t allowed in Germany…

I much prefer military flights to chartered flights.  Although you have to wear ear plugs to block out the noise and the flights are usually longer because the planes move slower, I enjoy seeing the Air Force at work.  I also like not having someone reclining in my lap, kicking the back of my seat, or otherwise harshing my mellow.  On a military flight, you can actually lie down on the floor and sleep if you want to.  The airmen gave us blankets, which really came in handy because it was chilly on the plane.

Bill and I bought box lunches, mainly because it’s been my experience that the food served on military flights is actually edible.  This was no exception…  We had chicken, fruit salad, chips, a Rice Krispies Treat, water, and apple juice.  I was glad we bought the lunch, too, because I eventually got hungry even after having eaten it.

I enjoyed meeting the others on our flight.  One guy was once in the Honor Guard in Arlington and now works in Europe in counter intelligence.  He was on his way to Oklahoma to see his new baby.  Two were doctors, married to each other  and getting ready to begin three year residencies in Washington, DC.  The other guy sounded like he might have been from the West Indies.  He was going to New York.

We landed in Savannah in the early afternoon and then spent some time trying to get taxis.  It was very warm in Savannah, which was a shock given how chilly it was in Europe and on the plane.  A lady with a mini van took Bill, me, the guy going to Oklahoma and the guy going to New York to the airport area.  The doctors decided they would get a hotel downtown.  The lady who drove us to the hotel was funny.  She had a sign in her cab that read “No eating or drinking.  Throw up fee $250”.  One of the guys mentioned it and I immediately understood.  I’m sure the puke fee mostly applies to drunks during festivals.

Bill happened to have enough HiltonHonors points to score us a free room at the Doubletree Inn near Savannah’s airport.  We checked in and I got cleaned up.  I was really craving a steak for dinner, but there weren’t many restaurants near the hotel and the Doubletree’s room service menu didn’t offer steak.  Bill went out to get us fast food at Wendy’s, but then he spotted a restaurant that did offer steak.  He went there and bought us dinner… and then when he brought it back, I opened the cartons and realized to my horror that the steaks were covered in mushrooms!

Now, this may not seem like a big deal, but I actually have a phobia of mushrooms.  I don’t eat them.  I don’t even like to look at them.  No mention of mushrooms was mentioned on the restaurant’s menu.  What was even weirder was that the steaks came with Caesar salads that were served with cheese and dressing on the side.  I don’t know why the mushrooms weren’t served the same way.  I mean, usually one who wants mushrooms has to request them and pay extra.  Unfortunately, the mushrooms kind of ruined my appetite.  I did eat a little after Bill scraped them off, but I was a bit traumatized by the fungus.  Yes, I know it’s ridiculous… it’s just one of my quirks.

I booked us on an early flight on Delta going from Savannah to Houston because flying to San Antonio was outrageously expensive…  more on that next.

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Military

France and Germany… a send off from the Army– Part 10

I felt like a new person after our first night in Landstuhl.  We got up and had breakfast in Hotel Goldinger’s pretty dining area.  Besides being a small hotel, this place is also a “Konditorei”, which means they make pastries there.  I loved their dining room, which had the look of a garden or a solarium.  The breakfast spread they offer to guests is also very nice, with smoked salmon, smoked trout, breads, cheeses, vegetables, juices, cereals, and fruits.  They’ll even cook eggs and bacon if you want.  Bill and I had a nice breakfast, overhearing a couple of professors from the University of Maryland who were apparently concerned about keeping their jobs because virtual education is taking over so much.  Bill joined their conversation while I sat there thinking about what we’d do on our last real day of vacation.

I told Bill I wanted to visit Bacharach, which is an adorable town on the Rhein.  I went there in 1997.  In fact, it was the very first town I visited after my Peace Corps tour in Armenia, so it kind of holds a special place in my heart.  I had to figure out trains in order to get there and that’s been a skill that has served me well.

Charming sign at the Landstuhl train station.

We bought tickets to Bacharach.  Since it was a holiday, the tickets were pretty cheap, but it would take a long time to get there.  First, we had to get to Kaiserslautern.  Then, we had to take a train to Bingen.  Finally, from Bingen, we would take a train to Bacharach.  It would take about two hours.

Pretty castle in view of the Bingen train station…

The ride was pleasant, since there’s a lot of pretty scenery as you get close to Rhein country.  It was a bit cloudy, but there were no major rain storms.  It was a little chilly outside, but not so chilly that you’d need a jacket.

Bacharach is as adorable as I remembered it.  It’s a well-preserved town with lots of medieval looking buildings and cobblestoned streets.  There’s a beautiful castle on a hillside that now serves as a youth hostel.  It’s an uphill hike to get there, so we opted not to go.  Instead, we enjoyed the castle from afar.

Just off the train… you can see the youth hostel in the distance.

 

Adorable Bacharach…

We ate lunch at a cute little gasthaus.  Bill had sauerbraten and I had roasted chicken.  The lady who ran the restaurant was funny when she noticed Bill didn’t eat the beets in his salad.  She gave me a postcard of the restaurant and said, “Here’s a souvenir for you.”  Then she gave Bill the bill and said, “And here’s a souvenir for you…”

Lunch!

There’s not a whole lot to Bacharach, but it still managed to be a very special stop during our trip on account of the biergarten we visited.

Bacharach has a theater that also serves their own beer.  The garten is under a bright tent that looks like it was once part of a carousel.  Unbeknownst to us, on the day we visited, it was father’s day.  In Germany, a lot of fathers and sons go hiking and then drink for awhile.  A huge group of men were there and they had obviously been there awhile by the time we showed up.  The cheerful waitresses brought out round after round of beer and schnapps.  Occasionally, the men would toast or break into drunken singing.  I happened to get some clips of their performances.  Some of the guys singing were pretty good!

A video I made of our afternoon…

The beer was pretty good, too.  I made our server beam when I ordered a mas krug– one full liter of beer.  We spent several hours just hanging out and observing these guys who were obviously having a great time.  At one point, Bill went to the men’s room and one of the guys in the German group started speaking to Bill.  Bill told him in German that he doesn’t really speak the language very well.  The guy switched to English and struck up a conversation.  The guy was surprised we’d visit Bacharach and Bill told him that I had visited years ago and loved the town.  I wanted Bill to see it.

Bill explained that he was about to retire from the Army and this trip was sort of our last hurrah.  So then the man told Bill that he had been drafted to the German Army and ended up staying for about thirty years.  He said his family had come from the East and the Americans helped them relocated to the West.  Bill said the guy got choked up as he said he’d never forgotten what the Americans did for his family.  I have to say, in these days when so many people have negative things to say about Americans and the military, it was really nice to hear something positive.

Another man had heard we were Americans living in Texas and he came over to talk to Bill while I was in the ladies room.  It turned out the guy had spent a lot of time in Odessa and Midland, which is where the oil is/was.

Our trip to tiny Bacharach was yet another incidence in which we went to a small town that presumably  has little to it and ended up having sort of a special day.  The last time we took a hop to Germany– back in May 2012– we ended up visiting Rodange, Luxembourg, a seemingly boring suburb of Luxembourg City.  We were annoyed about being there because we’d actually meant to go to France.  But then it turned out to be one of the most memorable days of our trip because we had a great and cheap lunch at a little restaurant run by a Portuguese family.  Then we ran into a “hen party”, where we saw a group of people dressed in drag and a diaper wearing woman with a rubber penis on her nose…  I may have to repost my trip report from that hop, since I didn’t have my travel blog in 2012.

The trip back to Landstuhl was kind of long.  First, we took the train from Bacharach to Bingen and were joined by a number of guys who had been at the biergarten with us.  Then, when we got to Bingen, we were delayed for about 50 minutes because the train wasn’t scheduled to leave until 7:55 and we got there at about 7:00.  The trip to Kaiserslautern also included a 20 minute cigarette break in Bad Kreuznach.  By the time we got to Kaiserslautern, it was well after 9:00 and the next train to Landstuhl wasn’t for another 45 minutes.

I told Bill I wanted to take a cab back to the hotel.  He balked, because he knew it would be a pricey trip.  I finally won out, though, because it was kind of cold outside and getting late.  The cab ride to Landstuhl was interesting, because I got to see just how much the massive number of Americans has affected both Kaiserslautern and Landstuhl.  We even passed a placed that served American style fried chicken!

I kind of wish we’d stayed in Bacharach and explored the Rhein more.  Maybe if we get back to Germany, Bill and I will be able to do that.  I also still have yet to see the famous Medieval town of Rothenburg, so that may be reason to take another hop to visit Germany if we don’t end up moving back there someday.



This was in the foyer of the theater where the restrooms were located…  From a distance, they looked like real people!

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England, Military

How my dad got a street named after him and a beer in England…

I just heard an interesting bit of family lore today.  I called my mom, thinking it was Mother’s Day.  It’s not Mother’s Day, of course, and I woke her from her usual Sunday nap.  Nevertheless, despite being disappointed by some photos I’d sent her by request (she was hoping for full body shots), she was in a pretty good mood.  We had a nice chat.

We got on the subject of Bill and me potentially trying to go to Mildenhall AFB in England in a couple of weeks.  I was telling my mom that it makes me nervous to take a trip right now, since Bill doesn’t have a job lined up yet.  On the other hand, this trip would not be as expensive as it could be, since the flight there on military transport would be close to free.  Mom said if we manage to get to Mildenhall, we should see if Tolley Cobbold Road is still there. 

Tolley is my maiden name.  My dad is Charles P. Tolley, but everybody calls him Bill.  Bill is a childhood nickname given to him by my Aunt Jeanne that stuck– she evidently preferred the name “Billy” to Charles.  Apparently, my dad liked it better, too.

Anyway, I do remember Tolley Cobbold Road, even though I was very young when I lived in England.  When I was growing up, we had a British road sign that my dad had put up in his picture framing business.  I was told that the sign was the result of a practical joke one of my dad’s Air Force buddies played on him when he was finishing up his Air Force service in the late 70s.  You see, Tolley is a very English name.  And, for centuries, the Brits produced a beer called Tolly Cobbold Beer.  I even have a bar towel that I purchased from a Brit on eBay a couple of years ago.  Tolly Cobbold Beer was made at a very old brewery near Bury St. Edmunds, which is the neighborhood near Mildenhall.

I bought this bar towel because we used to have a light blue and white one…  Tolly Cobbold Beer went extinct in 2002…

One time when he was stationed in England, my dad had to go TDY to the United States.  There was evidently an unnamed street on or near the base that didn’t have any houses on it.  One of my dad’s co-workers, an Italian guy, had a sign made for that empty street.  The sign read “Tolley Cobbold Road”.  It was a play on my dad’s name, using the “e” in our last name, and the name of the beer, of which my dad was probably a diehard fan.  They put the sign up on the street.  When my dad got back to the base, the military police called him asking where “Tolley Cobbold Road” was, since someone had had an accident there and they had never heard of it before.  That’s when my dad found out what his buddies had done.

About twenty years ago, my dad had occasion to visit Mildenhall and the sign was still there.  I looked on the Internet, and lo and behold, it does appear that Tolley Cobbold Road  may have actually become official.  I see that if you look on maps, the street is spelled “Tolly Cobbold Street”, but if you search for it using the “e”, there are many references spelled as my maiden name is spelled.  In fact, I don’t see any references of it, other than notations on street maps, where it is spelled “Tolly”.  And again, my parents actually saw the sign posted, got photos, and were even presented with a replica of the street sign.

Of course, I understand this story could very well be bullshit… but I’m guessing it probably isn’t.  My dad is a memorable character.  Indeed, though my dad retired in 1978, his former secretary, Faith, still works at Mildenhall.  About ten years after my dad retired my cousin, Jeff Tolley, was in the Air Force and based at Mildenhall.  He happened to run into my dad’s former secretary who, before knowing who Jeff was, commented that he reminded her very much of a gentleman she once worked with.  She said my dad’s name, and Jeff said, “He’s my uncle.”  Mom says if we go to Mildenhall, we should look Faith up and say “hi”.  They have kept in touch all these years; Faith even sent me a wedding gift!

Given this crazy bit of family lore, I feel I owe it to myself to check it out.  Besides, what better way to end my Bill’s years in the Army than by checking out my dad Bill’s last duty station?  I need to get there and take a photo of that street sign.  And if it turns out it is actually spelled “Tolly”, no big deal…  I can still enjoy the UK and Ireland anyway.

I hope I inherit that way cool street sign someday.

Update!  We found Tolley Cobbold Road!

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Military

Our next… (last??) move…

Since January 2007, my husband and I have moved five times.  The first move was within a half a mile.  We moved from the little white house we’d been in since October 2003 to a brand new house.  We had to move because our old house was being renovated.  I was sorry to leave it, because I actually liked that house… but the new house did have some updated features like a gas stove, FiOS, and a tiny fenced in yard.  Bill deployed in January 2007, so I lived in that house mostly by myself.  He came back in August 2007 and we moved to Germany in September 2007.

We expected to live in Germany for three years.  We ended up getting barely two years, owing to my husband’s asshole ex boss in Iraq, who got Bill requested by name to take a job in Atlanta, Georgia in September 2009.  I loved Germany and cried when we had to leave.  We traveled a lot, loved our house (and our neighbors and landlord) and felt very comfortable in Europe.  We got paid more in Germany, too.  Moving abroad is a big pain in the ass… It took six weeks to get into our house and when we were PCS’ing, we had to deal with new potential renters breathing down our necks, wanting to rent our house.  It sucked.

But we moved to Atlanta in September 2009 and it was okay… we were there for 18 months because my husband’s post was shut down and moved to North Carolina.  So we moved to North Carolina in April 2011.  We got out of our time in Georgia a new dog (Zane) and Bill picked up some mad home brewing skills.  Our old beagle, Flea, died about two months after we got to Georgia because he had prostate cancer.

So now we’re about to have our second anniversary in North Carolina…  I’m just now meeting people, mainly because we adopted our new dog, Arran, because sweet MacGregor died a few months ago.  North Carolina is not that exciting… it’s very close to Virginia, which is where I’m from, and not far from where family live.

Today, Bill tells me we will likely be expected in San Antonio, Texas around August 1, 2013…  He retires next year, which means this will be the last time the Army moves us unless we move after he retires.  The Army will pay for a move when he retires, too…

For the third time since 2009, I’m househunting on AHRN, which is a housing rental service for military folks.  I hear San Antonio is wonderful, so I’m hoping we like it and stay awhile.  And I hope we don’t end up living in a box.  Meanwhile, I still want to plan trips and, in fact, was checking out Hebridean Island Cruises YouTube channel and wishing we could do another Scotland cruise this year.

I guess in July, we’ll need to take a trip to San Antonio and find a house.  Then in late July, we’ll need to take a 3 or 4 night road trip and drive the 1300 miles to get there.  It was a lot easier to move from Georgia to North Carolina.

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