Whatchawearing
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Europeanvaction1979/16
My father was in the USAF. We spent nearly nine years in Europe. We lived in Greece, Italy and England. Every few years my Grandparents would come to visit. When they did, we were off for a five week journey across Europe. My grandmother kept a journal of our travels. Recently while cleaning out a closet, my Mother came across the journals. The memories came flying back! I decided to share these journels with you. Each day I will post a chapter as she has written them. I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I did.
The first Journal was in 1979. We lived in Hellenikon Greece.
Leaning Tower of Pisa
Bologna Italy
Marmore Waterfall
Italian Alps
Brenner Pass
Garmish-Partenkirchen
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Day 16-Sunday, June 10 1979
Dawning bright, the day started early for us. By seven-thirty we had pushed along to Pisa where we were startled to see that the Leaning Tower actually tilts more than it shows in photographs, leaning 17 feet off the perpendicular.
The Pisa, cathedral and nearby baptistery form a magnificent ensemble of highly decorative architecture. The tower itself was begun in the 12th century and completed in the 14th.
Since it was too early to actually get in the Tower, we satisfied ourselves with a few photos of the buildings, then were the first customers at nearby souvenir shops which were beginning to open for business. A stop at a bakery provided us with cold slices of pizza and cheese pastries for breakfast.
Leaving Pisa we entered the Autostrata which lets you barrel through to Bologna in no time at all. The further north we rode, the prettier the scenery became. The homes, with their red tile roofs, scattered at the base and up the mountainside, looked as if a giant hand had placed them there in a haphazard fashion.
From the top of a summit a large waterfall made its white rippling descent of over one thousand feet to a point somewhere about half way down the side of the mountain where it disappeared behind tall pine trees.
When the noon hour rolled around we stopped at an Autogrill to buy sandwiches, drinks and gas. It was a busy place catering to tourists' needs not unlike our service areas on Interstate highways in the U.S.
The speedy Autostrata offered hints of earlier centuries. Sheer walls of rock dotted the mountainside with villages and towns snuggled comfortably along the bottom of the valley or clinging to the hillsides. Grapevines seemed to grow wherever man could conceivably scramble his way, the land being well utilized for farming. In places the valley narrowed to a slit, easily defensible. Here, invariably stood a fortress or castle.
The road clung to the base of the mountainside winding its way over a curving
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mile-long bridge connecting two mountains, then went through it by way of tunnels some only thirty or forty feet apart. Tall trees shot into view between each tunnel.
Suddenly we spotted snow on the distant peaks. It's difficult to say which one of us was most impressed or excited, for we realized that we had, at last, reached the Alps. This seemed to trigger our voices as each of us tried to out-talk the other pointing out what beautiful sights were being seen. George caught sight of an old fortress atop a peak commenting he was certain it was used in WW II. A gushing, gurgling river meandering by the side of the road was spied by Sean, just as Ryan observed the waterfall coming from a cave high up the mountainside. I felt that, in order to see it all, I needed eyes in the sides and back of my head.
Crossing into Austria, via the Brenner Pass, we were waved through customs. Here we took the road to Innsbruck which is a narrow two-lane path with hairpin curves and sharp turns. The VW labored up the steep grade and I thought we could walk up faster.
There was no way to look forward, sideward or rear- that you didn't want to pause for a minute to snap a picture of snow capped peaks, green valleys, or a herd of sheep grazing peacefully in a high, flower-tossed meadow.
In no time at all we reached the German border. A steady rain cascaded down nearly the entire way to Garmish-Partenkirchen which is nestled in a beautiful valley of the Wetterstein Mountain range in the heart of the Bavarian Alps.
We checked in at the AFRC Billeting Office and, after eating supper in the nearby Grill, drove to the camping area. By this time, it was getting dark and the rain was coming down harder making it more difficult to set up the tent. The campgrounds left a lot to be desired as it was rock and weed-laden having very little choice spots for pitching a tent.
While the males did their job, Jan and I gathered up soiled clothes and headed for the laundry room bringing the scrabble game with us to occupy the time between washing, drying and folding.
Later, in spite of hard ground and rocks under the sleeping bag and air mattress, we fell into exhausted sleep.
