Weinzierl

Jewelers

In-Town Auto Repair  952-443-2868

Victoria’s Corner Bar.  Nightly Specials and Menus.  952-443-9944

Specialized assisted living for those

with memory challenges. 

Victoria.  952-908-2215

8 First Street in Waconia.  952-442-2885

The Key

The Key to advertisers

in the Victoria Gazette. 

Located at www.VictoriaGazette.com.

942-443-2078

Funeral Home & Cremation Services

952-474-9595

Pediatric Rehabilitation Clinic.

Occupational Therapy.  Speech Therapy.

952-443-9888

Huber

“Trees Are Our Roots”

8099 Bavaria Rd * Victoria * 952-443-2990

Headlines

and bylines

Front Page

Feature Story

From the

Editor

Addie’s

Drawing

Letters

to the Editor

Victoria

Moments

Hook

Line & Sinker

Calendar

of Events

Click here to

Advertise

Email

the Gazette

Return to

Home Page

Order

paper Gazette

Notes and

Quotes

The Scoop

at City Hall

         Back in October of 1997, before the age of the internet, www, and digital cameras, Allan and I and my parents spent over two weeks together on an adventuresome self-guided trip to Europe.  To be more exact, we spent five days in London, five days in Paris, a jaunt to Normandy, and five days in parts of Belgium.

         When we reminisce about that adventure, the same stories surface time and again.  It's because they're unforgettable.

         First there's the flat we stayed at in London.  Allan found it online and signed us up.  "Up" is the operative word. 

         We were aghast to discover that our living quarters were at the top of three flights of narrow stairs.  There was no elevator.  Mom counted the steps each time we used them -- when we got "home" from Phantom of the Opera, from the Wax Museum, from the Tower of London, from the Double Decker Bus, you name it. 

         The stairs, in fact, became a daily comedy routine.  It was a matter of laughing or crying and we fell into the first.

         Also in London we became acquainted with the Underground in a most unusual way when Allan stepped through the open doors of the train -- the last car -- thinking we were in step behind him.  But we weren't.  And the train took off.

         So there the three of us -- Mom, Dad, and I -- stood, watching the train disappear into the dark tunnel with Allan watching us watching him disappear.  The last thing we were going to do is walk back to our flat and up 48 steps.  Besides, Allan had the key.  How would you have solved that one?

         From our five days in Paris we talk about our effort at fine dining and French cuisine, and the indignant look on the fancy-clad maitre de when we ordered a pitcher of the cheapest wine instead of the wine he recommended with our several course meal.  We still aren't wine connoisseurs but we eat well and enjoy ourselves.  At the end of that Paris evening, the maitre de and his help were practically sitting on our laps.

         When we reminisce about Normandy, most of the words are left unsaid.  Although the sun was bright and sky was blue, the day was cold and windy, especially on the cliff above the beaches.  I've heard since that it's usually that way, with a brisk wind.

         I remember watching Dad walk through part of the American Cemetery there, where thousands of white grave stones were in perfect alignment no matter which direction you looked.  Names on the markers were familiar sounding, American, and many were born around the same time as my Dad.  Dad was in the Navy and served the final year of the War in the Pacific Theater. 

         From our fun days in Belgium we talk especially about a particular night at the Ibis Hotel where we stayed a couple nights in Hasselt, home of Father Ferdinand Jennen, a cousin that we went to visit and also his sister Mariette and her family and his sister Benny.

         We came "home" from a day with the Belgian family and stopped for a nightcap in the lobby of the Ibis.  When we got up from the table, I swung my big heavy purse over my shoulder and in the process knocked all the glasses and stemware off the table and onto the ceramic floor.  Crash!.  Then total silence.  I apologized and offered to pick up and pay for the mess.  The attendant said, "Don't worry about it.  It happens all the time."  We walked to the elevator and talked and laughed about the Flying Purse ever since.

         In the countryside of Belgium one evening, we were looking for a place to spend the night, with little success.  Then we saw a gal down the road on a bicycle, riding in our direction.  Dad rolled down the car window and used his best Belgian vocabulary to say something like, "We need ein placka zu schloppen."  The rest of us died laughing at Dad's funny sounding sentence, but the dear bike lady motioned for us to follow her, which in itself is a scene to envision -- a bicycle leading a car.

         And then we talk about the place the bike lady found for us.  There was a pile of manure near the entrance and a bunch of farm animals in the back, and there was room for us in the inn.  But first we wanted to check it out, so the man took us upstairs where he pointed out the bathroom.  I opened the door and shrieked and shut it very fast.  A bearded man was sitting in the tub with the strangest look on his face.  It's the same bathroom we all came to use that evening -- after we danced downstairs for hours with a big slobbering dog keeping us company.  Later, we didn't forget to lock the bathroom door.

         And so the same stories get told over and over.  It's sure fun.  We just spent another several days with my parents traveling to and from Tioga, North Dakota, for Gunnar's First Communion.  Addie and Gunnar are two of their nearly 30 great grandchildren.  You might want to check out my online album for the rest of the story.

The Victoria GAZETTE

From the Editor

July 2013

Home Page