Whatchawearing
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Europeanvaction1979/20
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.
McDonald's, Garmisch
Olympic Ski Stadium
Partnach Gorge
Garmish
page 46
Day 20-Thursday, June 14
A rainy night turned into a soggy, chilly morning. In town, the Alpine houses, their flower boxes blooming bright red with geraniums, sat with one noticeable difference in their midst. Spotting the yellow twin arches, Sean was the first to cry out, "There's a McDonald's." Although I despise McDonald's in the U.S. this one offered us a haven from the dampness, and hot cocoa for warmth.
With sightseeing impossible, we made use of the camp's laundry room where we dried everything from pillows and sleeping bags to shoes and blankets. We whiled away the better part of the morning playing scrabble, supervising newcomers to the laundry telling them how long it would be before they could use the machines and, most of all, keeping warm and dry.
Now, later in the day, the sky was clear and the sun peeked out occasionally from behind dark clouds. We parked the van in the back of the Olympic Ski Stadium and started out on what we thought was going to be an unhurried half hour walk to Partnach Gorge. Again George declined the walking tour staying in the VW while we were gone.
Eroded by the force of raging water during untold millions of years, the Partnach Gorge looked like a science-fiction world of majestic natural rock formations. The pathway, a few feet above the rushing waters of the Partnach River, is constructed along bare rock walls which extend upwards about 300 feet. This splendid rocky ravine is one of the more remarkable sights of the Bavarian Alps.
Al suggested we take one of the mountain trails at the end of the gorge instead of going back the same way we had come. The path was a steep upward climb through a beautiful forest. Even with rest periods I realized, too late to turn back, my aching legs and bursting lungs were crying for relief.
Suddenly we were out of the trees and on more level terrain as we crossed a meadow painted by the hazy sun's golden glow. A few farm houses sprinkled the sloping grassland. Every bit of spare hilly land showed the effects of the industrious farmers who were busy mowing their hay and stacking it neatly on special racks to dry. I almost expected to meet Heidi here at any moment.
page 47
A hairpin paved road took us down the mountain. By mid-afternoon we descended towards Garmish. My toes tried to push out the front of my shoes, but at trail's end near-vertical leveled to horizontal as we made our way back to George and the parked VW. We had been gone two and a half hours and had walked three miles.
The weather had cleared enough for us to see the gorge, but it didn't last. Before we got back to camp the rain was steadily beating on the windshield, and the late afternoon air was on the chilly side.
Sitting crossed-legged, the seven of us had a grommet supper of tuna sandwiches and chicken soup prepared on the camp stove set up in the middle of the tent. After showers and clean clothes, we ended the day with the usual glasses of beer, while the boys played a few games of pin-ball and we all stayed warm and dry.
