Where Have You Been? Part 2

North by Northwest; The National Park Series; Randy Petersen, composer

Where have I been? Here is another partial list.

Leningrad and St. Petersburg, within a month of each other. Helsinki and Pori in Finland. Copenhagen in Denmark. Oslo, Bergen, Trondheim, Tromso, Nordkapp, Hammerfest and Tranoy in Norway. Amsterdam, Delft and Rotterdam in The Netherlands. Middelkerke in Brussels. Calais, Le Havre, Paris and Versailles in France. Lausanne, Morgins, Zermatt and Zurich in Switzerland. Rothenburg ob der Tauber, Dinkelsbuhl, Stuttgart, Fussen, Frankfurt, Munich, Dachau, Oberammergau, Berlin, Rostock and Warnemunde in Germany. Through the Kiel Canal. Innsbruck, Seefeld, and Salsburg in Austria.

I bought an extremely powerful pair of binoculars in Leningrad. On our last night in St. Petersburg in 1991, the captain of the Crown Odyssey treated the crew to an evening at the St. Petersburg Circus. Some friends and I had lunch at the Zetor tractor restaurant in Helsinki. I heard jazz legend Wayne Shorter at the jazz festival in Pori. A harpist friend of mine and I rode the roller coaster at Tivoli Gardens in Copenhagen. Joe M. and I packed a picnic, rode the train up to Holmenkollen Olympic ski jump, and enjoyed a sunny afternoon on the hills overlooking Oslo. A funicular took me up to the top of the cliffs of Bergen where I saw Edvard Grieg’s house. I visited the Nidaros Cathedral in Trondheim and I visited the Arctic Cathedral in Tromso.

I bought my score to Rachmaninoff’s “Rhapsody On A Theme By Paganini” at a music store in Amsterdam. I ogled over Delft ceramics in Delft. The group that I traveled with in 1991 rode an overnight ferry from Rotterdam over to England. Some friends and I watched a festival parade from our ship in Le Havre. I spent two hours at the top of the Eiffel Tower one afternoon, observing the metamorphosis from bustling European metropolis into the romantic “City of Lights”. When no one was looking, I ran the entire length of the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles to see how long it would take. Thirty-two seconds.

I bought some horrible tasting chocolate in Lausanne and fed it to Dr. W. I rode the ski lift to the top of the hills overlooking Morgins and followed a herd of cows in order to see the prettiest place in French mooing Switzerland to eat grass. When I got to Zermatt, I took two cable cars to reach the closest restaurant to the Matterhorn (only two miles away) and had the world’s tastiest bowl of goulash soup. I changed planes in Zurich. My sister K. and I purchased a Weinacht’s pyramid for Mom at a Christmas store in Rothenburg ob der Tauber. By the way, I also saw a falling star during the daytime in the park while in Rothenburg ob der Tauber. I sat on a bench with a wonderful friend and watched the river go by in Dinkelsbuhl. I sang with a chorus for Sunday morning services at a church in Stuttgart. The men’s room window, over the urinals, provided the finest view from the heights of Neuschwanstein Castle near Fussen. I flew to London from Frankfurt. A waiter gave me horrible service at a sidewalk café in Munich. As you can imagine, I spent a dismal two hours at the concentration camp in Dachau. The owner of a bed and breakfast in Overammergau held a conversation with me entirely in German for five minutes. I went to the Greek museum in Berlin. My friends took me to the Rostock Zoo for my birthday. On that same day, I had some of the best Italian food ever at a little restaurant in Warnemunde.

From the Kiel Canal, I saw miles upon miles of cornfields. In Innsbruck, I marveled at the majestically colorful gardens in the city park. My friend S. and I rode “Der Happy Gschwandtkopf Lift” from the meadows surrounding Seefeld. And I sang Haydn’s “Lord Nelson” Mass at the Salzburger Dom on a Sunday morning with the choir of St. John Lutheran Church of Orlando, Florida.

But I have never spent any time in the Pacific Northwest of the contiguous forty-eight states.

Credits: To anyone, who can provide me with their best recipe for goulash soup. I think that God has goulash soup waiting for us at the great heavenly feast when we get called. Mmmmmmmmmmmmm.