We are embarking on the last stretch of this voyage through the Great European Rivers (Danube, Main, Rhine). As I write, sailors are pulling away the ropes that tied us to Dock 9 in downtown Cologne. Our next port? Amsterdam. By the time this essay … Read more
I try to imagine growing up in Vienna. In fact, I’m penning these words perched on a bench in Marie Theresien Platz, a glorious square that unites Vienna’s huge Natural History Museum with its equally large Old-Masters’ Art Museum. Both of these buildings stand directly … Read more
Today, waking up in Zagreb, Croatia, I thought about the people arriving tomorrow for a tour through Croatia and Slovenia. Most of them are embarking on the same trek I made yesterday, gathering last-minute items, tugging suitcases closed, and getting to the airport to fly … Read more
My train got in late to Interlaken. Disembarking at Interlaken West, I should have continued four more minutes to Interlaken East station. Had I done so, my automatic-pilot route to the hotel would have been correct. Instead, I dragged my suitcase about a quarter mile … Read more
Impressive events occur daily on Smithsonian Journey’s tours like this one through Croatia and Slovenia. Within just six days, we will have visited Croatia’s famed waterfall-and-lake national park (Plitvice), made an excursion to Slovenia’s fairy-tale island in the middle of a glacier lake called Bled, … Read more
It’s difficult to write an essay when you are constantly on the move, interacting with fellow travelers, giving talks, eating too many delicious meals, and just plain being absorbed in the magic of Christmas Markets along the Rhine River. But what about pulling out a … Read more
I’m sitting at the gate in the Piedmont Triad Airport (Greensboro, High Point, Winston-Salem). It’s a delight to fly out of this airport. It’s got everything necessary, yet is quiet, friendly, and overall the opposite of frantic. My route will replicate one I would have … Read more
It was cheesy, I admit it. There we were, joyfully circling the same fountain that Julie Andrews and the actor-versions of the von Trapp children skirted as they sang “Do, a deer, a female deer.” We ran through the same arbor, flinging our arms as … Read more
The scene from my room’s balcony encompasses a shimmering finger of Lake Lucerne and a green foothill of Mt. Rigi, a 6000-ft. Alpine mountain towering over the village of Merlischachen. In the middle, a wash of snowcaps glistens to form the perfect vanishing point. The … Read more
