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Europeanvaction1979/18

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.

Zugspitz
Mountain

Train To Zugspitz Mountain

The Schneefernerhaus


Zugspits 2874 meters

The Boarder

Zugspitz Peak




page 39

Day18-Tuesday, June 12 1979

    It was six in the morning when I heard Al say, "Mom, wake up and look out here."  Although we had gone to sleep with a light rain, we awoke to a glorious morning.  Three of us, Al, Jan and I peeked from a slit in the tent door at the scene before us, like children awed by the lights of a Christmas tree.  The Alpspitze was shining in the brilliant sunlight and we will remember forever the impression of serene beauty it imparted.

    With spirits high, we rushed to get to the railroad station, for this was the day to visit the Zugspitze, Germany's highest mountain (9,721 ft).  Very few people were waiting to board the train when we arrived.  With frequent stops enroute and more passengers on than off, the seats quickly filled to capacity.

    On this seventy-five minute uphill journey, we passed through sloping mountain meadows with minature daisies, tiny bluebells and pale dots of buttercups creating a tapestry of color on the background of green.  Here and there stood farmhouses of weathered wood, and in the distance above the fringe of forest we could see Zugspitze standing like a tall sentinel and wearing snow for a cap.

    At Eibsee we changed to a cog-wheel train, picking up more passengers, some forced to stand as the seats were all taken.  The last leg of the journey took us through three miles of solid rock tunnel, ending at the Schneefernerhaus, the Bavarian mountain hotel.

    A cable car carried us and the crowd of other enthusiasts away from the hotel, high above a field of snow.  Tier after tier of snowclad peaks touched by a flawless blue sky could be seen in the distance.  Airborne, we ascended to the summit.

    We stepped out into a bright white and gray landscape where the snow-covered expanse of glacier beckoned.  A holidaying crowd jostled about us, laughing, boisterous.  We gazed at the magnificent views in all directions.  To the north, the lakes and hills of the Swabian-Bavarian plateau; to the west, the Piz Bernina of

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Italy; to the south, the Oetztal and Stuiben Mts; and to the east, the famed Grossglockner and Grossvenediger ranges of Austria.

    Walking across the border into Austria, we stopped briefly at the telephone-booth size customs office where a bored official stamped our passports.

    The terrace on the German side looks out over a panorama of unbelievable beauty.  Truly another world, a world of fantasy are these majestic snow-capped peaks of the Alps.  Before I realized what was happening, Al and Craig were scampering down a vertical ladder from the terrace.  Walking out on a bank of packed snow, they climbed up a narrow jagged path to the very peak of Zugspitze, marked with the usual cross, and here they posed for picture-taking while I went into a nervous frenzy until they were back safely by my side.

    Later we descended in an aerial tram that was a ten minute breathtaking experience- straight down the mountain we went!  The thin wires carrying the cable car hardly seemed substantial.  One marvels at the engineering feat of putting miles and miles of cables up rugged terrain such as this.

    Since the cable car went only part way to the bottom, we transferred to the train for a relaxing return ride down the mountain slopes to the station depot.

    Feasting on beans (prepared a la Sean) and wieners for supper we talked over the day's activities, then we tackled what had come to be known as "Settling Up Money."  By this stage of our travels we had accumulated dollars, drachma, lire, shillings, and marks.  Every night we'd attempt to remember the day's transactions such as who paid tolls, tour tickets, gas, food, and the list never ended.

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    Starting out, our united resources were in the Gas Money and Food Money plastic bags, but somewhere, days earlier, got combined into one bag simply called Grocery Money over which I was trusted guardian.  Invariably, settling up involved making change from one currency to the other in order for the borrower to repay the borrow, be it a human or plastic bag.  Fortunately Al, with his trusty calculator, could be counted on to do the figuring with many good-humored jokes and teasing going on amid the passing of money from one to another.

    Sitting in the bar that night sipping Lowenbrau, we made our plans for the following day.  George decided not to join us in seeing King Ludwig's Castle as he did not feel up to making the strenuous walking we anticipated.

    We left the bar early to take showers.  The rest room was unique in that it was a community room where wash basins were shared by both sexes.  I never quite got used to brushing my teeth next to a strange man who was shaving.  Showers and toilets were separated only by partitions.  I never figured out why, but the water in the lady's showers ran in cycles from boiling hot to icy cold and nothing in between.  Tonight was no exception.  As I cussed the scalding water then shivered under the cold, George called out from the men's side, "Honey, my water's fine."  The temptation was strong to suggest we change sides, but I had second thoughts and rushed to finish a most miserable shower.






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