Bill has already taken Noyzi and Charlie to the Hundepension. Charlie did not want to get in the car, and flat out refused to walk with Bill when he saw that Noyzi was in the back of our SUV. He pulled so hard that he slipped out of his harness. Luckily, I was able to grab his collar. I don’t know why he’s so scared of car rides… Maybe I should have gone with Bill to make sure he doesn’t have a hard time getting Charlie into the Hundepension. Hopefully, it will be okay for him until we come back on September 7. Noyzi loves going there, so maybe he’ll follow Noyzi’s lead as he walks like a supermodel to the office. 😉
I’m mostly packed at this point. Just got to change clothes, put on some makeup, and zip up the luggage. I’m probably bringing more stuff than I should, but this trip will include a visit to a lagoon and walking in nature. It’s also quite a bit colder in Iceland than it is here, so I have to pack for that. The tour company suggested lots of layers.
We will be flying business class (Saga Club) on Icelandair. It will be my first time on this airline. I think when Bill went to Iceland for business purposes in 2008, he flew on Icelandair. I just joined their loyalty program, although I don’t know how often we’ll be going to Iceland. I think they might codeshare with Air France, and I am a member of their loyalty club. But it’s been so long since I last flew on Air France, I doubt I have any points with them anymore. I’m not sure if Icelandair’s business class is anything awesome. I just like it because you get a bigger luggage allowance and more room. I like the lounge, too.
Normally, I would have gotten us tickets on Lufthansa so I could collect points, but the flights they offered were not at convenient times. They would have been fine if we didn’t have to deal with the dogs, but I think the earlier flight was in the morning, while other flights would arrive late. The tickets were also significantly more expensive. I’m not sure if Lufthansa’s business class is better going to Iceland, but I kind of doubt it. And flying on Icelandair will also give me experience on a different airline, which will give me something new to write about on this blog.
We will be doing a bespoke tour with Iceland Luxury Tours. Tomorrow and next Friday, we will be on our own, and the rest of the time, we’ll be traveling around the country. I think Bill said we’ll be staying in four different hotels. It should be quite the vacation! It ought to be, given how much money we’ve already spent! We will not be touring any ice caves, just in case anyone is concerned about that. Iceland is two hours behind Germany, time wise, and it will take just over three hours to get there and back.
I didn’t get a chance to take a picture of Noyzi smiling from the backseat. He loves car rides! I hope Charlie will grow to love them, too. Anyway… I have a few more things to do before I shove out of here. I guess I should end today’s post and get on with things. Stay tuned for volcano and waterfall pics!
As of today, our new rescue dog, Charlie, has been here for a week. Charlie has been spending his first week in Germany with Noyzi and me, because Bill had to go to the States on business. He was in Texas for a few days, and now he’s in Utah with his mom, visiting his daughter, son-in-law and their four children.
This is a pretty special visit for Bill and his mom, because they had little to do with Bill’s daughter or her older sister after Bill divorced their mother in 2000. His absence in their lives was not because Bill didn’t want to be their dad. It was because their mother decided to punish him by alienating the children and telling them multiple lies about him and the nature of their divorce. Through it all, Bill faithfully paid $2550 a month– $850 each for his daughters, and $850 for his ex stepson, who was also estranged from his father, who didn’t pay child support. Ex also has two more children with her third husband.
Maybe it seems wrong for me to mention this stuff on my travel blog, but I never miss the chance to have Bill’s back. People love to blame men when marriages fall apart. It pisses me off that his ex wife denied him access to his children, especially since I would have loved to have been able to have children with him. That couldn’t happen, though, for a few reasons. So here I sit… a dog mom to many and barely qualifying as a stepmom. I have only met Bill’s daughters in person once, and that was in 2003. The older one is still estranged, but the younger one came around a few years ago. Fortunately, she’s a lot like Bill. It’s a pleasure to know her, if only by courtesy of the Internet.
I decided I didn’t want to go to the States with Bill on this trip. I had a few reasons for not going. First, and foremost, I really felt like Bill needed more time to bond with his daughter without me around. He saw her last in March 2020, just as COVID-19 was messing up the world. That visit was just for two nights; it was the first time they’d seen each other in person since 2004. Just after he came home from that trip, everything shut down. Since then, she’s had two more children and moved to a new home.
I also wanted Bill’s mom to visit her. She lives in Texas, and hasn’t seen Bill’s kids since the late 1990s. Bill’s ex wife despises her, and cut her out of the girls’ lives in favor of Bill’s dad and stepmother. So this trip is the first time my mother-in-law is able to see her younger granddaughter in about 25 years. I thought it would be best, given that the trip would be pretty short, that they have some time together.
There’s also a much more selfish reason why I didn’t go. I didn’t want to sit on a plane for many hours just to sit in Killeen, Texas all week. I haven’t been to the USA since November 2014, and I want my first trip back there to be about seeing people I love. I don’t love Texas, even though I still vote there. My decision to stay in Germany turned out to be a good thing, given the recent computer SNAFUs in the US. Bill ended up being stuck in Detroit for hours after he landed in the United States. I’m glad I wasn’t involved with that.
My decision to stay home also means that I can be here with Noyzi and Charlie. It saves us money, and helps Charlie assimilate. However, Charlie really hasn’t needed any help assimilating. He’s fit right in and, aside from a few marking episodes, he’s even managed to be about 95 percent potty trained. He’s picked a spot to sleep in, and is now even using the expensive dog bed we bought in Jettingen for Zane and Arran that barely got used.
Charlie is quiet, cute, enthusiastic, and always super friendly. He was even adorable a few nights ago, when he slipped out the front door and started running down to my neighbors’ row houses. Fortunately, those houses are fused together, so I managed to corner him before he slipped through a crack in a fence near their garage. I wasn’t wearing shoes or street clothes when this happened, but luckily no one was any the wiser.
None of my neighbors have met Charlie yet, and he doesn’t yet have his Tasso tag. It could have been a real disaster if he’d gotten away. Somehow, I think he would have found his way back, though. He’s a street dog, and they are smart and resilient. He wasn’t scared or trying to escape. He was just curious and wanting to explore.
Every day, we’ve taken walks around the neighborhood. He’s getting to know his new environment, and he and Noyzi seem to get along fine. They aren’t total buddies, but they don’t fight or bother each other. Noyzi stays in his room, and Charlie hangs out in my office. I can’t believe he’s only been here a week. It feels like he’s been here a lot longer.
There have been a few very short play sessions. I think Noyzi’s getting a little arthritic, though. He’s been a little gimpy all week, although he does seem to be slightly better than he was a few days ago. We’re going to have him examined by the vet, probably at the same time we get Charlie checked in with a well visit.
My big plan for today involves going to the grocery store. I don’t often go, as Bill usually picks up stuff on his way home from work. So, even though I can walk to the store from our house, going there still manages to be kind of a production. I’ve really fallen into a pretty boring lifestyle lately… It’s kind of stormy and rainy today, anyway.
The good news is, we now have firm plans for Iceland. Bill has already wired the money for our bespoke tour with Iceland Luxury Tours. I booked business class seats on Icelandair a few days ago. So, from August 29-September 7, we’ll be visiting a place I’ve never seen, and Bill only got to see on a very short business trip in 2008. The trip is paid for, and we’re just waiting for the big day to arrive!
I thought about flying on Lufthansa, so we could score more frequent flyer points, but the flights available were significantly more expensive and operated at a less optimal time. Icelandair isn’t in the same rewards system Lufthansa is… but the good news is, it is in Air France’s program. And although I’m in Air France’s reward program, I don’t have any points! It’s been ten years since I last flew on Air France– and that was to go home to Virginia for my dad’s memorial service. So here’s a chance to try a new airline to me, and to score some Flying Blue points.
I’m really looking forward to seeing Iceland. I’m sure it will be enchanting! I can’t wait to take and share the photos. I also have a feeling I’m going to enjoy the people. This tour is costing a bundle, but so far, it’s not as expensive as last year’s Scandinavian extravaganza… That was a longer trip with more people, but less personal attention than what we’ll be getting in Iceland. The tour company gets really outstanding reviews, so I’m sure we’ll be in good hands!
Well… that about does it for today’s post. I look forward to later in the day, when Bill wakes up and tells me about his first day seeing his family. I look forward to hearing from his mom, too. I’m sure she is absolutely delighted!
Edited to add: After I went to the store, I took the boys for a walk, and they met Isabel, our very young and pretty neighbor. Noyzi absolutely ADORES Isabel, and Charlie was happy to meet her, too.
Yesterday morning, we added a new family member to our household. Our new street dog, Charlie, flew from Pristina, Kosovo to join us here in Germany. So far, he’s fitting in beautifully, and getting reacquainted with Noyzi, our sweet, gentle, relatively giant rescue dog, who is also from Kosovo.
Noyzi and Charlie are both about six years old. They were both rescued in 2018, when they were puppies, by our friend Meg, an American who has rescued many street dogs in Kosovo. When we took in Noyzi in 2020, Charlie was also supposed to find a new home in Germany. However, his home fell through, and he spent the next few years in limbo, being cared for by a foster family in Kosovo. Kosovo, like a lot of Eastern European and Balkan countries, has a pretty big problem with street dogs.
A couple of years ago, when Meg visited Noyzi at our home, she told me about Charlie. At the time, we still had Arran, our very devoted and extremely jealous beagle mix, who was having trouble adjusting to Noyzi’s presence after we’d lost Arran’s buddy, Zane, to lymphoma. I remember when Meg first told me about Charlie, and I had this feeling we were going to end up adopting him. But, at the time, Arran was still very much with us, and he would NOT have appreciated another dog coming to live with us at that time.
We lost Arran to lymphoma on St. Patrick’s Day, 2023. In the past, we’ve been quick to adopt new dogs after we’ve lost one. But it’s harder for Americans to adopt pets in Germany, thanks to shelters not trusting us to take them with us when we leave. Now, of course Bill and I would not consider abandoning any of our animals in a shelter unless there was an extremely good reason and no other feasible alternative. I would actually say never— but I’ve learned it’s best never to say never. However, not every American who lives in Germany is as dedicated to their pets as we are, so the rest of us get a bad rep.
I do want to write a quick word about this issue. Sometimes people who work with the US military or government do have to re-home their pets due to situations beyond their control. Sometimes they have to move to places where it’s impossible to bring their pets with them. And sometimes it’s simply much too expensive to move the animals. The costs can suddenly change, as can the rules for shipping pets. Shit happens. But because so many Americans have ditched pets at pet shelters in the military areas of Germany, Americans are often discriminated against when they try to adopt from German shelters. I know there are exceptions, though… especially when Americans can get a German to vouch for them. And I also know there are Germans who would vouch for Bill and me.
In any case, although we knew we wanted to adopt another dog eventually, we weren’t in a hurry. Losing Arran left a big hole in our hearts. But then last fall, Meg asked me if we would be interested in adopting Charlie, who was still waiting for a home. I asked Bill, and he quickly said yes. So the process of moving him to Germany began. I knew Noyzi wouldn’t mind it if Charlie came to live with us. He loves other dogs!
Bringing a dog to Germany from Kosovo isn’t a matter of simply putting them on a plane. They have to have a special blood test before they can come, and there’s a waiting period. Then there are the actual logistics of the move, which involve traveling through several countries by car, or flying on a plane. When we adopted Noyzi, we met Meg in Slovenia. That was quite an adventure, as she was bringing other dogs who would be adopted by Americans. You can read about that saga by clicking here.
Charlie had already taken and passed the blood test back in 2020, but because so much time had passed, he had to have another test done. And then we had to coordinate logistics for getting him here. At first, we thought we might have him by April, but that didn’t happen. The weeks went by, and I wondered when we were going to be able to meet Charlie. Not that his foster family minded, as they were very attached to Charlie. Now that he’s home with us, I can see how they got so attached. He really is adorable!
Meg finally decided to go to Kosovo this month, although her plans for how to get Charlie to Germany were kind of fluid. Would she be driving or flying? She worried about the temperatures, as it’s not safe to fly animals in very hot weather unless the airline has temperature control in the cargo hold. Lufthansa is usually pretty good about this, as are other European airlines.
Then there were our schedules to consider. Bill left this morning to go to Texas and Utah and he’ll be gone for ten days. We have plans to go on vacation at the end of August-early September. We wanted time to break in Charlie and allow the people at our Hundepension to meet him. And then there’s just the reality that dogs don’t live as long as most people do, and time was getting away from us. So Meg decided that she would fly Charlie to us yesterday, since she has plans to go home to the United States for vacation.
Meg booked an early flight from Pristina to Vienna, then onward to Frankfurt on Austrian Airlines. I remember when she sent the itinerary, and I was a little skeptical that she’d be able to make the layover, which was only 35 minutes. If she hadn’t had Charlie, yes… it would probably be possible. But he had to go through security again once they landed in Vienna. Then there was the big IT Windows screwup that affected air travel everywhere.
Charlie about to be loaded on his flight to Frankfurt from Vienna…
Fortunately, Austrian Airlines did a great job in getting Meg and Charlie on the next flight, which arrived in Frankfurt yesterday morning a few minutes early. But they didn’t get Meg’s bags on the plane, and then they had to wait for the cargo folks to get Charlie to the baggage area. That took over an hour. But finally, they showed up, and there was our sweet new rescue dog, sitting quietly in his kennel. We loaded him in the kennel in our car, drove home, and prepared to introduce him to Noyzi.
It was interesting to wait for Meg in the arrivals hall. We saw a lot of stories in action. The cutest one involved a little girl with a rainbow painted on her forehead. She held a sign that read “Hallo Papi.” When her Papi finally showed up, she ran to him and he swept her up in an embraced, then kissed her mother. It was so sweet to watch!
I also watched a dog reunite with a man who must have been her favorite person. He came into the arrivals hall, arms outstretched, and she ran to him, showered him with kisses, and then greeted everyone else in their party. Then the whole group left the airport with great joy among them. I think if you need a pickmeup, hanging out in an arrivals hall could be an interesting pastime.
Anyway, back to Charlie’s arrival home. We think he and Noyzi will co-exist nicely. Noyzi is kind of a loner, and he spends a lot of time in his “bedroom”, which is also our entertainment room. But he likes other dogs, and doesn’t seem to be the jealous type, as Arran was. Noyzi is the biggest dog we’ve ever had, while Charlie is the smallest! They look like Rocky and Bullwinkle! Charlie also has hind dew claws. We’ve never had a dog with those before, either.
He’s got dew claws on all four legs!
When we got Charlie home, I called Noyzi down from his room to go outside. We brought Charlie out to the yard, only letting him out of the kennel when Noyzi was there to meet him. They touched noses, sniffed butts, and Charlie went around to inspect his new surroundings. He was definitely a lot less nervous than Noyzi was when we brought him home in 2020! He was delighted to meet all of us, and very quickly made himself at home.
As I write this, he’s sleeping on the rug behind me. He’s learned to go up and down the stairs, marked a few things in the house, and slept in a bed with his foster dad’s shirt on it. After I finish this post, we’ll take our first walk around the neighborhood. I have a feeling he’s going to charm a lot of people, because he’s got such a sweet, sunny personality. It almost feels like Zane and Arran are both visiting us through Charlie.
Noyzi doesn’t seem bothered by Charlie. The two of them almost had a play session last night, although I think Noyzi might be dealing with a slight case of arthritis. He’s been slightly gimpy lately until his joints warm up.
Below are some of the best photos from yesterday.
So far, Charlie seems very happy to be in Germany. He’s been through some tough trials. There’s a scar on his back from when he was a tiny puppy. Two girls found him and begged Meg to save him. Meg has told me she thought someone had tried to kill Charlie when he was a puppy. Charlie somehow survived, in spite of that person’s cruel efforts to end his life. Obviously he was meant to be here.
I said this when we took in Noyzi… who by all rights should have died on the streets of Pristina. Imagine the odds that a dog from the streets of Kosovo would end up living with Americans in Germany! And yet, here they both are… living with Americans in Germany. Both of them have done what may have seemed truly impossible. I guess their story is a life lesson we can all learn.
Here’s a video of the experience so far…
A video of Charlie’s arrival to Germany from Kosovo!
I just took them on their first walk. They did fine together. Charlie will be one of the locals in no time!
This ought to be a short post, as it’s just going to be about our trip back to Frankfurt. It was a fairly uneventful journey.
On our last morning in Sofia, Bill and I had our breakfast, then packed up all our stuff. I was kind of glad to be going, because I wanted to go home and recover from this cold, that is still lingering a bit today. I was also a bit apprehensive, because on Thursday of this week, I had my very first doctor’s appointment since 2010. Naturally, this means it was also my first visit to a German physician. I left that appointment with two more appointments, which means that regular readers can soon expect a few posts about German style healthcare. Whoopie!
I have already written a post about our visit to the hospital on Thursday. It’s on my main blog, and not as detailed as I would normally write it. I will write about it here, too, because this blog is about travel and the “German lifestyle” as lived by Americans. I did notice some differences. But I’ll get to that later. For now, the order of business is our flight back to Germany.
We liked our housekeeper so much at the Grand Hotel Millennium that Bill left her a note and a tip on the bed. Hopefully, she got it. We did see her on that last morning, just before we went to breakfast. I wish Bill had slipped her the tip then. She really was very kind.
After we checked out of the hotel, we got into the taxi that was arranged by the hotel receptionist and made our way to the airport. Once again, I was amazed by how different Sofia seemed in so many ways since 1996. And since this is destined to be a short post, I’ll share a few comparison photos. Below are pictures I took in 2024…
And below are photos from 1996.
Bulgaria was going through an economic crisis with massive inflation in 1996,Alexander Nevsky Cathedraland the art flea market. I bought a painting then, too.National TheaterParliament buildingSex shopSadly, dancing bears were a thing in 1996. I didn’t see any in 2024, as now it’s considered cruel. Thank God.
When we got to the airport, it was a breeze to drop off our bags. Security was also easy, as I didn’t wear any metal at all. We went to the lounge, which was sort of a generic affair that served all the airlines. I was pleased that there was a lot of comfortable seating. We didn’t try any of the food, because we were still full from breakfast. But they had a nice selection of treats, as well as an open bar.
The lounge in Sofia. It was pretty nice.
Soon enough, it was time to depart. Our noon flight was slightly delayed, but I smiled when I saw the plane we got. Lufthansa repainted one of their planes in a gay pride theme. It’s gay pride month, so it seemed all the more appropriate that we’d be on the Lovehansa flight. I think this was originally meant to be a thing for six months in 2022, but it’s still going, as you can see…
The inside of the plane has rainbow colored headrests, too.
The flight itself was mainly a piece of cake, with the exception of some turbulence we experienced early on. I entertained myself by taking more photos of the sky and finishing my latest book. There were a couple of guys who spent the whole two hours drinking wine. It was a very nice flight, and not completely full.
I think this was chilled chicken. It wasn’t bad.
When we got to Frankfurt, we walked for about fifteen or twenty minutes to get to baggage reclaim. But, happily, our bags were the first ones off the plane! We quickly found a cabbie to take us home. He didn’t know where Breckenheim is. Now he knows, and he said he liked the neighborhood. Unlike the Bulgarian driver, who seemed to favor Eurotrash dance music, the German cabbie played classical music. I preferred his taste.
Noyzi was delighted to come home, too. I think it’s possible the next time he goes to the Hundepension, he’ll have a new doggie brother with him. Charlie, another Kosovar street dog, is slated to join us around July 4th… two days after I get scoped from both ends by my new German doctor. All I can say is, I hope the drugs are good.
The morning of June 7th, 2024, Bill and I got up bright and early and prepared for our short break in Sofia. Bill gathered enough dog food for Noyzi to keep him going for the days we’d be gone. I packed a bag and took care of the usual last minute chores before our 3:00 PM flight, while Bill took Noyzi to the Hundpension.
We decided to take a cab to the Frankfurt Airport, because Bill didn’t want to fool with parking. I can’t blame him for that. It’s expensive, and the airport is so big and sprawling. You have to walk your ass off. There have been a couple of times when Bill has tried to get cabs and no one answers in time. This time, we had no issues. Checking in was quick and easy at the Lufthansa Business Class counter. As we were handing over our documents, I noticed a really cute little white dog sitting in a travel carrier. I couldn’t help mentally comparing the tiny dog to Noyzi, who is probably about twenty times bigger!
I had to take my laptop out of the suitcase. Somehow, I had forgotten that it’s not allowed to check them. After that, we made our way to the Lufthansa lounge, where we waited until it was time to fly. The lounge wasn’t too busy, although I did notice one guy trying to get his wife in when she didn’t have the proper credentials. Both of them were wearing really high-speed face masks that didn’t conceal their annoyance when the gatekeeper turned them away.
Chilling in the Frankfurt Lufthansa Lounge…It wasn’t too busy.
Our flight to Sofia was slated to land at about 6:30 PM, as Bulgaria is an hour ahead of Germany. It lasted about two hours and was downright boring. We didn’t have the slightest ripple of turbulence, even though the pilot mentioned having to fly around some rain. I did get some photos…
Some kind of cold meat with vegetables. Dessert was the best part.
I entertained myself by taking pictures of the sky…
WOW! English is EVERYWHERE!
I immediately noticed how warm it was in Sofia. Germany has been fairly cool recently. Today, for instance, I walked Noyzi in a short sleeved t-shirt and pants. I was actually chilly. In Sofia, it was mid 80s Fahrenheit, and I did a lot of sweating. We made our way to the baggage claim and waited awhile, even though our bags were supposed to come out first. While we were waiting to claim our luggage, I had Bill get me a SIM card for Bulgaria. It was very simple, as the local carrier, Yettel, has a kiosk right there in the baggage area. It’s cheap and easy to change out the card for short trips to Bulgaria and other places Yettel serves.
Once we got the phone and bags sorted, we walked outside and stood in line for a taxi. I looked around, immediately amazed by how different Sofia looked. When I arrived there by bus in 1996, it had seemed much less cosmopolitan. I mean, yes, there are still crumbling Cold War era buildings in Sofia, but there are also a lot of newer, modern buildings. I remember walking from the bus station– a dirt plot, really– into Sofia with my friend, Elaine, in 1996. I can’t imagine doing such a thing today.
The official taxi service in Sofia…
Bill handed the cab driver a slip of paper with our hotel’s name printed on it. The cabbie, who spoke perfect English, laughed in astonishment and said, “Where did you get this?”
Bill said he’d made them. I guess he figured the cab driver might not be an English speaker. That was a fair assessment based on both of our previous experiences in Sofia. But this time, I only ran into ONE person who couldn’t converse with me in my native tongue. It was incredible. This is not to say that I think it’s a wonderful thing that English is so prevalent in places where English isn’t the main language. But I have to admit, it does make things more convenient for us less lingually endowed Americans.
I ended up booking us four nights at the Grand Hotel Millennium, which is a HUGE luxury hotel on Vitosha Boulevard. It hadn’t been my first choice. I wanted to stay at a three star B&B near the center of town that got really excellent ratings on TripAdvisor. The guy who runs it gets high marks for being enthusiastic and helping people really experience the local culture. Unfortunately, he didn’t have availability on one of the nights we were in town, so I had to make another choice.
I had struggled over which alternative hotel to choose. Bill had previously stayed at the Grand Hotel Sofia, which is in the center of the city. He had a good experience there. Now that I’ve been to the city again, I might choose the Grand Hotel over the Grand Hotel Millennium, if only because it’s much closer to the center. The Grand Hotel Millennium is a very nice and comfortable hotel with ten restaurants, a spa, and conference facilities. It’s also near a metro and other public transport. But we tend to do a lot of walking when we travel, and such was the case this time. On the other hand, maybe it’s a good thing we were so far out. We probably saw more than we would have otherwise.
The room I booked was a Signature Suite. The lady who checked us in gave us a big smile and said it was “very nice”. She wrote what looked like the number 906 on the key card, although I thought I heard her say 904. Bill took the cards and we went to 906… which was already occupied! Oops! When we went back down to the reception to clarify which room was ours, the man who helped Bill said this happened “all the time”. Oh well…
We went into the room, which was huge, and offered floor to ceiling views of Sofia on two sides. The bathroom was as big as my childhood bedroom was. It had a tub and a huge rainfall shower, as well as a bidet. There was no minibar, but there was a small fridge, handy for storing snacks and drinks purchased at a local shop. And there was also a large, flatscreen TV installed on the wall, which allowed for ordering room service and getting announcements. Below are some photos…
BathroomViews from our roomAnother sideI got to know the bed too well.
Keep in mind, we were only on the ninth floor. This hotel has thirty floors! And yet, as nice as the room was, it wasn’t particularly luxurious. But then, it’s important to remember that a hotel’s stars aren’t necessarily about true luxury or quality. It’s about what services are offered. Grand Hotel Millennium Sofia certainly offers a LOT of services, and it’s a very pleasant place to stay. Last time I was in Sofia, the best hotel was the Sheraton Balkan Palace. I see now that that hotel definitely has a lot of competition.
By the time we checked in, it was already after 7:00 PM. Bill had been sniffling a lot, complaining about his allergies. I knew he was probably tired, as he tends to be tired as the sun starts to set. We decided to have dinner at one of the hotel’s ten restaurants. It so happens the restaurant that seemed most suitable was the Vienna Restaurant, which was advertised as “casual”. We didn’t bring any fancy clothes with us, and we noticed a number of the eateries had dress codes. Yikes!
So we went to the third floor, where the Vienna Restaurant is. It was practically empty. We were shown to an outside table on a patio, there one other guy was having dinner. I chuckled when I saw the menu, which was very “German”. They had all the stuff we can easily get here at “home”. But they also had Bulgarian beers, and a few dishes that looked interesting. I went with fried perch, while Bill had truffled pulled pork with mashed potatoes. Bill liked his dish. Mine was just okay. The fish was a bit bland, even with the tartar sauce that came with it. But it was not offensive and did the job of filling us up for the night…
We were about to call it a night when another server asked us if we wanted dessert. I realized we had nothing better to do, so we agreed to look at the menu again. After we ordered– Black Forest cake for me and Sachertorte for Bill– there came a sudden huge deluge of rain. We had to move to another table, because the roof was leaking on Bill.
I didn’t really want dessert, but I have to admit, I really enjoyed the Black Forest cake, which wasn’t so much like what we get in Germany. Instead of whipped cream as frosting, the Bulgarians used a cream cheese frosting. It was delicious. It’s been so long since I last had a decent slice of layer cake, even if it’s not something I ought to be eating. Bill liked his Sachertorte, too. I was actually hoping to score another piece of that Black Forest cake, but we didn’t eat in the Vienna Restaurant again. Phooey.
After we ate dinner, we decided to head back to our room and go to bed. I was already surprised by how different our welcome to Sofia was this time.
When I came to Bulgaria in 1996, I had a terrifying experience at the border with Turkey, as the border guards were very aggressive, and spoke no English. This time, we just sailed right through without so much as a nod to customs. And this time, we also didn’t have to worry about registering with the police, as Elaine and I had to when we visited in the 90s. Our Peace Corps Volunteer host was kind enough to help us with that. He saved us fines when we left the country. Of course, even in the 90s, if one stayed in a hotel, the hotel would do the police registration. So, I guess if we had stayed in a commercial place, we would have been spared the police experience. I’m not so sure they still do that, anyway.
In any case, I was eager to get out and see the city on Saturday… and we sure did that. Stay tuned for the next part!
Featured photo is an aerial view of Sofia, Bulgaria, as we approached courtesy of our Lufthansa flight…
It’s time, once again, for me to write a series about our latest travel adventures. This past trip was short, but very meaningful to me. We visited Sofia, Bulgaria, a place that has stuck in my memories since my first visit, back in 1996. Now… to be frank, it was never my life’s ambition to visit Bulgaria.
As I have explained in other blog posts, I initially visited Bulgaria in 1996, because I was accompanying my friend and Peace Corps colleague, Elaine, on a vacation to Turkey and Bulgaria. I actually had no money for a vacation, so Elaine was kind enough to lend me some cash so I could go with her on our big trip. We traveled via bus from Armenia, which made for big adventures, lots of exhaustion, and many memories that will never be lost.
Armenia was not, and is still not, the easiest country to travel from by land, especially for Americans. The country is surrounded by enemies of Armenia or the United States. In the 90s, flying out of Yerevan was very expensive, kind of scary, and inconvenient. So, as someone who was broke and not particularly travel savvy in the 90s, my choices were pretty limited. In the 90s, lot of us Armenia Peace Corps Volunteers did go to Turkey and Bulgaria. I don’t know if that’s still true today. Today’s Volunteers have more choices when it comes to transportation than we did.
When I went to Bulgaria in 1996, I had just turned 24 years old, and the Iron Curtain had only very recently fallen. Consequently, Sofia was still very “Eastern bloc”. I remember it as “nicer” than Yerevan was, in terms of how the city looked and what was available. Bulgaria wasn’t part of the Soviet Union, after all. But it was still very much emerging from communism, and I don’t remember a lot of businesses or English speakers. I also remember that it was common to see people nodding to say “no”, and shaking their head to say “yes”. While I’m sure this is still a thing in Bulgaria, especially in the countryside, I didn’t see it during this trip as I did in 1996.
In 1996, there was only ONE McDonald’s in Sofia. It was in the center of the city. I used it as a landmark when I took a taxi from some remote part of the city where I’d wandered. The cab driver didn’t speak English, and I don’t speak Bulgarian, but by God, we knew McDonald’s, and that was a good place to meet the guy who was hosting us. Today, that trick wouldn’t work, as Sofia is now littered with McDonald’s restaurants. However, I noticed that almost everyone we spoke to spoke almost perfect English!
Bill went to Sofia in 2008, but he was there for an Army function. Because he was working, he didn’t have much time to check out the city. He brought home an Orthodox icon, which was coupled with the painting I bought on my one trip to Sofia in 1996. Bill said he noticed things were different this visit, too, although maybe the difference wasn’t as striking to him as it was for me.
How did we decide to visit Sofia? It was courtesy of our trusty champagne bucket, which we use when we can’t decide on where to go. This time, we took cities that were offered by Lufthansa’s “surprise flights” option, similar to Eurowings’ (formerly Germanwings) “blind booking” idea, which we’ve done several times.
Instead of booking a surprise flight, and risking weird flight times that would make it hard to board Noyzi reasonably, we just put the city names in the bucket. Initially, Bill drew Dubrovnik, a place I would love to see someday. However, in June, we figured it would be completely overrun with tourists such as ourselves. When Bill made a second draw, Sofia won. So we went to Sofia, from June 7-11. Now, I’m going to write about what happened. I hope you’ll follow along. This series will probably be a short one, since we were only there for a few days, and I spent one of them in bed. More on that later.
Although most of my photos from my Peace Corps days are in storage, I do have a few from that time, including some from Bulgaria. I will try to remember to share them in the coming posts, so readers might get a view of how things have changed… Stay tuned.
We’ve finally reached the end of my Armenian series. What an amazing trip it was! Bill says it was one of the best trips we’ve done together, and we didn’t even go to many of the really cool ancient places for which Armenia is famous. Instead, we met people I knew years ago, saw places where I used to live, ate good food and drank wine, listened to great live music, and enjoyed being somewhere other than continental Europe, for a change. I almost hated to leave!
Bill arranged for a van to pick us up at 2:30 AM, giving us plenty of time for our 5:05 AM non-stop flight to Frankfurt on Lufthansa. We didn’t really need a van, but the guy at the front desk warned Bill that it might be best to order one if we had a lot of luggage. So, there we were– two of us with four bags between us. The driver looked at us and said, “That’s it?” For this, we paid a fare of 17,000 drams. He was a good driver, though, so Bill gave him 20,000 drams and told him to keep the change. The driver was happy, and wished us a pleasant flight.
We went up to the Lufthansa baggage drop, and the woman at the counter eyed the portfolio Bill presented and said she thought it should go in oversize baggage. I asked if it was absolutely necessary, and she asked a colleague, who said it was fine for the portfolio to go through the normal luggage queue. So, with our bags dropped, and our tickets printed, we headed to security. This is where things got a bit traumatic.
I was shocked to see these cartons of cigarettes…Just about every Armenian man smokes. I’m not sure these over the top warnings work. But they are very amusing to see!
I mentioned in my first post in this series that I got groped by an aggressive female security officer. I’m not exactly sure what her problem was, but my problem was that there was a woman holding everybody up, because she had a baby stroller that she was struggling to fold. Instead of stepping aside to deal with the stroller, she was in front of the metal detector, blocking everyone’s egress. I don’t know about you, but when it’s about 3:30 AM, and I haven’t had any coffee, I’m not the friendliest person in the world. But I wasn’t complaining. I wasn’t saying anything or causing a scene. I probably just looked a bit annoyed.
I had gotten out of the habit of flying, thanks to COVID. And I live where advanced security screening is in place. Nowadays, travelers coming through Frankfurt don’t have to take off watches and the like. But Yerevan only has a metal detector. It doesn’t have a scanner. I forgot to take off my watch, and the metal detector went off. The security officer started frisking me, then noticed the watch. I had to put it in a bin and go through the detector again. The thing went off again, probably because there was metal in my shoes and my bra. She started her aggressive frisking, ordering me to put my arms out again and snapping, “I haven’t finished with you yet!” as she ran her hands over my stomach and between my legs. I was getting a bit pissed off, and felt rather violated.
Then she started speaking Russian to me, and I looked her in the eyes and said, very calmly and seriously, in English, “I don’t speak Russian.”
In retrospect, maybe I should have said that in Armenian, which I could have done. It probably would have really disarmed her. But English did the trick. She backed off immediately, and I got my stuff and got out of there. I don’t know if she was truly done harassing me, or if she’d thought I was Russian and was taking out collective Armenian hostility toward me… someone she might have thought was from Russia. In any case, while I understand that security screening at airports is very important, that woman’s hostile demeanor and lack of courtesy didn’t leave me with a great impression. Fortunately, most of the other people I ran into during our trip made up for her inappropriate and obnoxious attitude.
Yerevan’s updated airport is pretty nice, and it has a decent duty free shop that everyone has to walk through on their way into the secure gate area. We looked around for the business class lounge, which it turns out is upstairs. There’s an elevator in the duty free shop, or stairs for those who prefer them. The lounge is for business class or higher travelers using any airline. Those who are waiting there can enjoy snacks and beverages… coffee machines with Russian instructions, beer, wine, sparkling water, and the like. Bill and I had some coffee while we waited. The restrooms have showers in them, and only one toilet. I guess if you need a shower, you can lock the door, and all the other travelers would be out of luck.
A must in an Armenian airport.Even my morning man, Bill, was a bit over it at that hour…Jermuk tastes better than it used to. We drank a lot of it, as well as Bjni.
Bill saw a sign that our flight was boarding, even though it was ahead of the time noted on our tickets. Not wanting to miss Lufthansa’s one weekly flight to Frankfurt, we went down to the gate, where a whole bunch of people were waiting. There were some cute girls in sweats who were wide awake, practicing what appeared to be cheers. I didn’t know Armenia had cheerleaders, and maybe that’s not what they were. But they looked like cheerleaders, and their early morning pep was both amusing and a little irritating.
It took forever for our flight to start boarding. In fact, we didn’t start boarding until some time after the listed boarding time. And business class passengers were boarded later. I guess they were loading the back of the aircraft first, which makes sense. I don’t know why people are so eager to get on the plane, anyway. I think most folks just want to get the whole ordeal over with, nowadays. Flying isn’t the luxe experience it once was.
Bill and I were in the third row. As soon as we sat down, an American guy took the seat behind me. He was sitting with a British guy who kept calling him “my brother”. They didn’t know each other before they were seated in the same row, but boy, did they act like they were buddies. The two of them immediately launched into a loud and obnoxious conversation about where they lived (both in England, near or in London), what they did for a living (retired orthopedic surgeon who supposedly worked with US military special ops, and a presenter for the BBC), what kind of luxury cars they drove or hoped to own (don’t remember that part), and how they get their news (American dude preferred reading the news to watching TV, because TV news is too biased). It went on for awhile, and I was worried I was going to have to listen to them blather for five hours.
Meanwhile, the lady sitting in front of me appeared to be Armenian. She had a pretty girl with her who looked to be about 13 or so. The pretty girl went alone to the back of the aircraft, while (mom?) sat down in front of me. I caught her casting a furtive look at the two chatterboxes behind Bill and me, who were continuing to run their mouths about their luxurious lifestyles in England. We were all in on their conversation, whether we wanted to be or not! I asked Bill if he had any earbuds, since I didn’t bring my headphones with me. He misunderstood and pulled out ear plugs. Fortunately, he also had earbuds, and I tested them to see if they’d work on my tablet. They did, and I heaved a sigh of relief, although I hate wearing earbuds. They are usually too big for my ears and don’t stay in well.
We took off, and the lady in front of me immediately reclined. I didn’t mind it, though, because I had plenty of space in front of me. I’m short, anyway, so there’s usually ample leg room for me. Once we were in the air, I had to pee really badly. But the pilot kept the seatbelt light on for ages. Bill finally got up after about an hour or so, and asked when they were going to turn off the light so I could go to the bathroom. The flight attendants said it would only be a few more minutes. Suddenly, there was a commotion in the back. A woman came up to speak to the flight attendants, and they went to the back to see what was wrong.
A few minutes later, the seatbelt light finally went off, and with a groan of immense gratitude, I went to relieve myself. Meanwhile, the flight attendants were asking for medical personnel to come forward. The guy behind me got up, as did an Ear, Nose, and Throat doctor from Wales. There were many Welsh people in Yerevan during our visit, because of football. I’m guessing that’s why the ENT doctor was there. Bill and I were a little afraid the flight might need to be diverted, since the flight attendants seemed so concerned.
But then a few minutes later, the ortho guy sat down again, and told his new British friend that there was a lady back there who had neglected to take her medication and was having some kind of medical issue related to that. He went on a little more about the woman, then said that he’d let the ENT doctor from Wales handle the emergency, since he’d retired from medicine in ’08. He didn’t look old enough to retire, but based on what he was loudly telling everyone in business class, he had done very well for himself and was now living a life of leisure. Anyway, he did mention that the woman would be alright. So much for healthcare privacy, but there is no HIPAA in the friendly skies. 😉
Then the American “doctor man” started talking about the wonders of Georgian brandies and his visit to the Genocide Memorial, as if he knew what he was talking about. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes… but in my defense, it was very early in the morning; I was still a bit traumatized by the aggressive frisking; and I’d already been listening to those two guys ramble on for over an hour.
Finally, the flight attendants served breakfast. We had a choice between sweet and savory. I chose sweet, and Bill chose savory. It was too dark to take a photo, although I don’t remember the food being inedible. I usually stick with a roll and some water or orange juice, anyway.
We landed in Frankfurt at about 7:00 AM. When we went through passport control, I was confronted with a handsome young German guy in a uniform. He was markedly more pleasant than the Armenian officials had been. He started leafing through my passport and said, “How long have you been in Germany?”
I said, “About nine years.” Bill was standing behind me, rolling his eyes.
“Do you have a residency permit?” the guy asked with a surprisingly flirtatious smile.
“I have a SOFA card in the back of the passport.” I responded.
The guy found it, noted that it wasn’t expired, and sent me on my way. When it was Bill’s turn, he said, “That’s my wife.” The guy stamped his passport and let him go.
It always amazes me when border control guards are confronted by Americans who are very casual about approaching them. They don’t see a residency permit, and ask how long we’ve been here. We tell them “SOFA City, sweetheart…” They roll their eyes and let us go. Wouldn’t you eventually just look for the SOFA card before asking about a residency card?
SOFA, for those who don’t know, stands for “Status of Forces Agreement”. It’s basically like a special residency card for Americans who work for the US government or military, as well as their families. It allows us unlimited entrance and exit privileges from our host countries, as well as legal residency, and some other privileges. But it’s not quite the same thing as a German residency card.
We made our way to the baggage carousel. I noticed there weren’t too many people there, which probably means a lot of people were on their way to the USA or England… or maybe somewhere else in continental Europe. Having flown to Yerevan from the USA before, I didn’t envy them. But I would rather fly from Yerevan to the USA than the other way around. It gets earlier when you go west, so you don’t tend to feel so disoriented.
When I flew back to the USA after my Peace Corps assignment, I had been traveling by train around Europe for a month. It wasn’t nearly as traumatic as when I went to Yerevan in 1995. Well, it wasn’t as traumatic until 1997, when I met my father at Dulles Airport, and he treated me like something he’d scraped off his shoe, and told me he was going into rehab for his alcoholism the next day. Don’t get me wrong. I was glad he was getting treatment, but he sure spoiled my carefully cultivated “coming home” fantasy that was two years in the making.
After we found our bags, we were looking for that portfolio with our paintings that Bill had worked so hard to acquire the day prior to our journey. A German airport employee guy came around with it and seemed to know that it belonged to us. The Armenian lady at the Lufthansa desk had, sure enough, sent it to oversized baggage, even though it only weighed about two kilos and was flat. I guess it was too cumbersome for the regular baggage drop.
Bill and I easily found a taxi, which took us back to our humble abode in Breckenheim. The weather was cold and drizzly, just as it usually is in Germany at this time of year. I was glad to be back home, although we really had a great time in Armenia. It already feels like a dream, though… Like I can’t believe I went back there and felt so very comfortable. I still know the city of Yerevan like the back of my hand. Obviously, we will have to go back and explore some more. The good news is, now that Bill has had a taste of Armenian hospitality, he’s ready for a new adventure!
So ends my Armenian blow by blow blog series. I just have one more post to make, and that would be my highly entertaining “ten things I learned” list. Hopefully, some folks will read that. I learned an awful lot on this trip. So, by all means, stay tuned if you’re interested…
Friday, November 10th was the big day we’d been waiting for since September. I chose that date because I wanted to have an extra Saturday in Armenia. I had big aspirations of finding new art for our home, and I knew that the Vernissage would have more people there on the weekend than during the week. It also turned out that Stepan had a work project he had to attend to over this past weekend, so it was a lucky thing that we opted to leave on the 10th.
Right now, Bill and I have the good fortune of living in Germany, which makes getting to Armenia comparatively easy. One can fly directly to Yerevan from several European cities, including Frankfurt, which is just 20 minutes or so from where we live. However, Lufthansa currently only offers direct flights from Frankfurt to Yerevan once a week. If we wanted to fly there directly from Frankfurt, we’d have to leave on Saturday, the 11th. So we flew to Vienna on Friday night, enjoyed a few hours in the Lufthansa lounge, then flew Austrian Airlines to Yerevan. That was an interesting experience!
It wasn’t the first time we’d flown on Austrian Airlines. When we lived in the Stuttgart area, we’d had layovers that involved flying on Austrian and Swiss Airlines, as they are code shared with Lufthansa. It had been several years since our last experience with Austrian Airlines, but I did remember that all the ladies working for them wore bright red tights!
Since we were in business class, we got a somewhat elaborate dinner service… for being on an airplane, that is. They brought out “tablecloths” for our tray tables. The food was relatively decent, too. Below are a few photos from our visits to the Lufthansa lounge in Frankfurt and the Austrian Airlines lounge in Vienna. You’ll notice a certain theme… Free beer and wine is a nice perk of flying business. Of course, it’s not really “free”, is it? Our usual lounge in the Frankfurt airport was closed, so we had to go to a different one. It was pretty busy! Travel is definitely back in full swing, post pandemic.
I was very excited in Vienna when we went to our gate. After 26 years, I was finally going to Armenia, and it was a treat to hear the language again. I looked around at the other passengers, many of whom looked like they might have been coming from the United States. I also saw a few Americans, at least one of whom was traveling with an Armenian. I wondered if any of them were fellow RPCVs… or maybe even a current PCV. One American guy must have noticed our blue passports, because he came up and asked us in English if we were in line.
Then we were called up to the desk by the Austrian Airlines rep, a pretty young woman wearing a bright red Austrian Airlines approved hijab. She told us that she needed more information. I wasn’t surprised, since Lufthansa’s Web site hadn’t let me properly fill out our profiles. We handed over our passports, and she took care of it quickly. Soon, we were on our way.
Lufthansa’s offerings on the way to Vienna.Off we go to Yerevan!Looking pretty good here…Austrian triangular dinner. It wasn’t bad, although I never eat a lot of the food they offer on planes.A view of Vienna as we flew away.
I braced myself on arrival to Armenia, remembering what it was like to arrive in Yerevan via Paris, France in June 1995. At that time, the old Soviet era airport was still operating. I remember getting there at about 3:30 AM, and there being very few lights anywhere. Our flight was courtesy of the now defunct Armenian Airlines, which was still flying 70s vintage Soviet planes.
My 1995 Peace Corps flights were my first flights anywhere since I’d moved home from England with my family in 1978. Whenever my parents traveled by air after that, they left me at home with my sisters or a housesitter. So while the United Airlines flight to Paris was more modern, the Armenian Airlines flight was a lot like what I’d remembered from my last flight from the 70s.
Looking around that Armenian Airlines plane, it really felt a lot like 1978, complete with people smoking the whole time and standing in the aisle. The day prior, we had flown from Washington, DC to Paris, and then spent twelve hours in Paris. Actually, I stayed in the airport for twelve hours, while braver and better traveled souls went into the city. I was in a pretty exhausted, frazzled state by the time I first laid eyes on Yerevan in 1995. I left Charles De Gaulle airport swearing off another visit to Paris… Of course, I have since learned that one should never judge a place or its people by its airport(s). I love Paris, now.
When my Peace Corps group got off the Armenian Airlines plane in 1995, we got off on the tarmac, and then walked through an old, dimly lit office, which I guess was passport control. I remember the airport itself was crumbling a bit, and there were few lights on in the terminal. The restrooms were a nightmare. You could smell them much easier than you could see them. If you’d like to see some photos of the airport, click here. It didn’t look nearly that bad in 1995, of course… but those pictures do bring back some vivid memories.
Volunteers from A2 (the second Peace Corps Armenia group) had come to greet us, and were passing snacks over a barrier. It took about three hours for our group of 32 to get all of our luggage because the airport lacked the modern equipment to unload the aircraft expeditiously. Then we all had to get through customs. I remember we were all loaded on a bus with curtains on the windows several hours later. I think it was about 8:00 AM when we finally got out of the airport. I remember staring at the half built buildings in the area near the airport, people’s laundry billowing from their balconies. The landscape was so different. I could see Mount Ararat, as it was a bright, sunny day with relatively low air pollution.
CP53N6 Armenia – Yerevan – Piazza della Repubblica. Hotel Armenia.Photo licensed by Alamy.
This is a photo of Republic Square the way I remembered it in 1995. Hotel Armenia is in the background.
CP529N Armenia twentieth century nineties – Yerevan – Piazza della Repubblica. Hotel Armenia. Photo licensed by Alamy.
Another look at Hotel Armenia in the 90s. This is exactly how I remembered it. The signs on the roof are now long gone.
Our group soon arrived at what was then Hotel Armenia, and is now the Marriott in Republic Square. We had a brief meeting with our training director; then we were allowed to go to our rooms on the less expensive “old side” of the hotel. I remember the rooms were very Soviet, with no hot water except in the early hours of the day, twin beds with wool blankets, and linoleum floors. There were ladies in uniforms there who “guarded” the halls and made sure we turned in our keys before we ventured out anywhere.
I remember chandeliers in the conference room, with long tables that had bottles of sparkling Jermuk mineral water, Pepsi, and juice. I distinctly remember thinking the water tasted like Alka Seltzer… and so did the Pepsi, which probably came from a Russian bottler. The chandeliers only had a few light bulbs in them. We were presented with borscht and smoked fish… and I remember a lot of sour cream, which I don’t really eat. I wondered what in the world I had gotten myself into.
By contrast, in 2023, getting out of the much newer airport was a breeze. We went to passport control, where a rather dour man asked me if it was my first time in Armenia. I smiled and said, “No. I used to live here.”
The passport guy was obviously not as excited as I was. He gave my passport an aggressive stamping as he grunted a disinterested welcome and sent me on my way. Bill and I rounded a corner, where our bags were already waiting for us. I could feel the excitement welling as we walked out of the secure area. There was a small group of Armenian men standing there, obviously waiting for new arrivals. Some of them held up signs.
Then I saw him… Stepan jan was there, holding a huge bouquet of flowers and wearing an ear to ear smile! We were easy to spot, especially since my hair has turned platinum blonde in my middle age years.
“Jenny Jan!” he exclaimed as he handed me the flowers.
I let out an emotional cry as we shared a warm embrace. The Armenian men loitering in the arrivals hall kind of stared at us curiously. It was obvious Stepan and I were very excited to see each other, and they probably wondered why… I’m clearly not a local!
The scene kind of reminded me of when Bill came home from the Iraq War in 2007. I had come to what used to be called National Airport in Northern Virginia to pick him up, and I will never forget how he came charging toward me, still in his ACUs (uniform), walking just behind his narcissistic war boss from Hell. Bill almost knocked me over with a huge hug, so relieved was he to be done with that particular patriotic chore. Bill and I shared a kiss and a long hug, and people looked on, smiling at the scene that was unfolding. It was like a movie moment.
Totally goofy picture of me at 5:00 AM, holding the beautiful flowers Stepan brought for me. Yes, I was happy! And yes, I needed a shower and sleep.
Think of our first meeting with Stepan as kind of like a much less romantic version of meeting Bill, as he came home from war. It was dramatic and exciting, but also kind of heartwarming and sweet. I remembered Stepan as a 15 year old kid, and I’m sure he remembered the 24 year old version of me. Now, we’re both a lot older… but Stepan graciously said, “You didn’t change!” And neither did he!
Stepan took my bags and we ran into Naira, the Peace Corps doctor, who had come to the airport to see off her brother. We said hello to her, and Stepan loaded our bags into his car. We chattered excitedly as we headed to the Paris Hotel in Yerevan. It’s located on Amiryan Street, very close to Republic Square and just steps away from Hotel Armenia/Marriott.
I remember being flabbergasted by the drive into the city, as everything was lit up. I can’t belabor this point enough… in 1995, there was an energy crisis in Armenia, so there were very few lights then, even on the streets. By contrast, in 2023, Yerevan is a city that doesn’t really sleep. There are a number of businesses that operate 24 hours. Bars and restaurants stay open late. And there are colorful lights everywhere!
A smiling man was waiting to welcome us at Paris Hotel Yerevan. He spoke excellent English. I had made the mistake of not booking our room for the 10th, which would have allowed us to check in immediately upon arrival. Or, maybe it was Expedia.com’s doing, since we weren’t technically arriving until the 11th. Our deluxe king room wasn’t ready for us to check in early, but they did have a lower grade room available. Bill and I agreed to that arrangement, since we were both so tired.
When Bill went to pay, the transaction failed. Stepan paid for the temporary room with his card, and after a chilly shower, we gratefully went to bed. We later learned that the transaction failed because of the WiFi system. Once we learned to use the chip on our credit cards, we had fewer problems with failed transactions. I think the room they gave us was one the hotel staff uses for situations like ours. Its condition was not nearly as good as the room we’d booked and moved to later that afternoon. But honestly, we were both so tired, we didn’t care. Below are pictures of our temporary digs. The room was fine for what we needed it for.
A few hours later, we got up for breakfast in the hotel, which is included in the rate. Paris Hotel has a great spread in their rooftop restaurant, Montmartre, which as you can see in the above photos, is also beautifully decorated. I enjoyed the relaxing jazz music that played as we enjoyed views of Yerevan. Yes, I still recognized it, as there are still a number of familiar Soviet style buildings and cranes in the landscape. Mount Ararat was tucked behind the clouds. It was so great to be back!
Stepan had said he wanted to take us to Garni and Geghard, a place that everyone who visits Armenia should see at least once… More on that in the next post!
At about 3:15 PM Germany time, a cab will pick up Bill and me and take us to the Frankfurt Airport. Then, after we get through all the check in stuff, we’ll head to the Lufthansa Lounge and hang out until our 6:10 PM flight to Vienna, Austria. At about 10:00 PM tonight, we’ll board our Austrian Airlines flight to Yerevan. It’ll take about 3.5 hours. We’ll land at 4:40 AM, Armenia time– three hours ahead of Germany time.
Once we get through customs and collect our bags, we’ll make our way to the hotel… which hopefully will either let us check in early, or store our bags until 3:00 PM. Then, the fun will begin… and we’ll see what kinds of trouble we’ll get into during our eight crazy nights in Armenia. I’m still a little nervous about this trip, but I think overall, it will be awesome to be back and see everything… and take lots of pictures and videos.
I have a feeling the time will fly by, and when we get back here early in the morning on November 19th, I’m going to feel like I never left. The next day, Bill will go into Wiesbaden for his dental implant procedure. I’ll probably have to go with him, since they won’t want him to drive himself home. Then, the next day, we’ll go pick up our framed art from the Czech Republic… and probably drop off more art from Armenia. I do expect we’ll buy some art there, if we can manage it. I hope we can get something for the house that will remind me of the place that forever changed my perspective, and my life.
I hope I’ll have some interested readers… If you are among them, watch this space. I expect to fill it with some fresh posts about a place I haven’t seen since 1997. I already know it’s changed a LOT.
On the morning of July 2, it was time to start the process of ending our big trip of 2023. Again, I can’t say that I was sad about it. I love going on vacations. I enjoy traveling– seeing new things, buying new stuff, meeting people, eating different foods, and drinking different beverages… especially the adult varieties. But it all has to end eventually.
I missed Noyzi. I craved having access to my washing machine. I worried about the pile up of mail. I even had fond memories of my bed, which really needs a new mattress. And, even though not that many people want to read my blog posts about our travels, I was really itching to write and upload all of the photos I took over the two weeks we were gone. I prefer to write on my desktop computer, which is at home. So, home was where we needed to go.
Bill checked out of the hotel, while I went to the handy self check-in kiosk in the hotel lobby. I printed our luggage tags and boarding passes, and we made our way to the luggage drop off point, which was actually a pretty stout walk within the airport from the hotel. It was especially rigorous, since we had heavy bags. I was thanking God that I booked business class on the plane, because it got us into the short security line, and we were able to get through and into the SAS Lounge (which also serves Lufthansa passengers) in no time.
Glad Bill likes cheese!
The Copenhagen Airport has a pretty decent lounge, although I didn’t make full use of it. I just sat in a nice chair and drank sparkling water while we waited until it was time to make our way to our gate. Once we got there, we found it backed up with a lot of passengers and not enough seating. Typical! 😉
I was a little worried that maybe our plane would be like the one we flew out of Bergen on… two by two seating in a very narrow aircraft. But it was a nice spacious plane, with three seats per row. Since we were in business class, we had an empty middle seat, and we even got served “breakfast”… which was mostly stuff I don’t eat. But they did have warm croissants and orange juice, which was fine for me. I also appreciated the chocolate they gave us afterwards!
The flight was perfectly lovely, and we landed on time in Frankfurt. It took forever to get our bags, and I think we might have even been the only ones who checked baggage. We were the only ones we noticed from our flight waiting for bags, which took over a half hour to get to us. While we were waiting, we encountered more Americans. One was a woman who looked a little annoyed when I sat down in a chair near her luggage. She changed her tune when she started wondering aloud about transportation and Bill helpfully piped up with local insider info. She asked us where we were from, and we answered America… but now we live here in Germany, and boy has it changed us in profound ways.
I don’t know what the woman and her husband were here for. The way she was dressed and the amount of luggage she had suggested that maybe she was going to go on a Rhein cruise or something. But those usually start in Basel, Switzerland or Amsterdam, Netherlands. They do pass through the Rheingau, though, and I often watch them and think… maybe I’d book one of those if I didn’t live so close to so many of the stops!
We found the Volvo and drove home, quickly unpacked, and I started doing laundry. I turned on the robot mower to deal with the very high grass. I checked out our rain barrel, which was full of nasty critters I’ve been killing all week. And I’ve been writing on this blog for a solid eight days. I’ve still got some more to write about, but the actual blog series on our big Nordic trip is over now. I hope some of you enjoyed it.
For those who are curious… This trip ran us approximately $22,000. We don’t usually come close to spending that much on a vacation, and we spent more than we had to. This was not an economy trip, by any means. We were also gone for two weeks, traveling in style in a very expensive area of the world. So…
*Cruise was about $12,000 or so… Concierge E on Regent Seven Seas Splendor, which is a luxury class, all inclusive cruise ship.
*Business class plane tickets from Frankfurt to Oslo, Bergen to Stockholm, and Copenhagen to Frankfurt, probably about $2,000 or so.
*A compartment on the train to Bergen from Oslo, about $500
*Hotels for eight nights, about $2,000 or so. Those, we paid at the hotel, rather than ahead of time.
*Trip insurance for a year about $1,000 (covers all trips all year)
*Food, booze, shopping, transportation, tickets to activities etc. about $4,500
I also haven’t factored in how much Noyzi’s boarding was. We had to prepay that in cash before we left.
If we’d wanted to, we could have pared down costs considerably. This summer, we really just wanted to enjoy ourselves. We definitely aren’t alone. Europe is teeming with people this year, and prices are pretty high. I’m happy to report that most of these costs were paid off before our trip started. We just need to work on paying off the stuff I didn’t pre-pay or pre-book.
It was a special pleasure to visit Finland and Latvia, two places I had never been to before, and learn about other places I’d never heard of, like Visby and Bornholm. It really was a good time, albeit very different from our usual road trips south!
So, that about does it for this series. I have to close now, as workmen have just shown up to replace the windows in my house. Hope to see some comments at some point!
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