vacation – Tales and Travel

ON SAFARI

Elephants, giraffes, zebra, kudos, wildebeest, a hyena — I saw them all on my drive from the airport in Skukuza, South Africa, to the Idube safari lodge 3 1/2 hours away. I was excited and decided this was a good omen meaning lots more to come. I was right.

The highlight on the drive was a mother hyena with two tiny, lively puppies. Driver Cheryl said they were just a few days old, if that. Mom was worn out, sleeping soundly, not disturbed by one of her offspring who was chewing on her ear.

I spent the next two days at the Idube lodge and the following two days at the Motswari Game lodge. Both are vast private game reserves in Greater Kruger, an area with unfenced boundaries outside but adjacent to the Kruger National Park.

Game drives begin in the wee hours, about 6 a.m. It was winter in South Africa, coal black and cold, freezing, at that hour. Hot water bottles and blankets are provided, but still frosty until the sun pops up. At 9 we returned to the lodge for a hearty breakfast, setting out again about 3 p.m. for an afternoon drive.

A tracker sits on a special elevated seat in the front of the safari vehicle, his eagle and trained eyes searching for tracks, movement, listening for sounds, any sign of animal life. The driver/field guide is an encyclopedia of info, as well as a fearless driver, charging off road at Formula 1 speed to reach a site before the animal moves on. Duck under branches, bounce over bumps and ruts, hold onto your seat — more thrills than an amusement park ride.

An abrupt halt. There — right in front of us — is the Lion King, gnawing on a bloody piece of carcass. A thrilling, awesome, incredible sight. You almost need to pinch yourself to be sure it’s real.

As in this instance, it is astonishing how close the vehicles get to the animals which completely ignore the visitors. They are accustomed to human intruders and definitely not camera shy. Even with a phone camera you can get decent photos (I used an I-phone 16 pro). For perfection, however, serious gear is best.

Following are photos of my “sightings.” Since I am a “childless cat lady” who adores cats, large and small, I will devote a separate post to cats. I saw many, all magnificent. Watch this space.

No shortage of elephants on the game drives: majestic males, families, youngsters. These mammoth creatures can live to be 60 to 80 years old. If they manage to survive that long, they die of starvation as their teeth wear out, making it impossible to chew food. The elephant gestation period is 22 months and “babies” nurse for three to four years. Elephants can eat for up to 18 hours per day.

Rhinos, with and without horns. The horns are treasured in many Asian countries for medicinal properties, although there is no scientific evidence that the horns have medicinal value. In some countries, namely Vietnam, the horns are a luxury item and status symbol.

Hence, poachers kill for the valuable horns. In the Idube reserve, rhinos are de-horned at the age of two to dissuade the poachers. Not so in the Timbavati private reserve where the Motswari lodge is located.

There guide Landon told us that dehorned rhinos are defenseless against predators and in territorial disputes with other rhinos. Poachers may still kill them to avoid tracking the same rhino again. And, the dehorning procedure must be repeated every 12-24 months, expensive and labor intensive. It can also alter natural behavior, leading to social disruption. Rhinos in Timbavati keep their horns.

The buffalo, one of Africa’s most dangerous animals, is one of the Big Five of African wildlife (elephant, lion, leopard, rhino and Cape or African buffalo). We were lucky and saw not just a few of these aggressive beasts, but hundreds crossing a lake.

We never spotted a hippo out of the water, but we did see lots of hippo heads up for air in various lakes. Hippos can stay under water for six to seven minutes, we learned, and they eat grass not meat.

Ian, the guide in Idube, told us the hippo is the number two killer in South Africa, following malaria, number one. Number three is the buffalo. Landon at Motswari disagreed on number two. He said number two is the crocodile, not the hippo which is number three. Both put malaria as the number one killer.

An African safari is a thrilling, rewarding, unforgettable experience. In addition to being awed by the wildlife, I was intrigued with the country and its citizens. I talked to South Africans about their languages, tribal customs, problems in the country and life since the official end of apartheid in 1994. A look beyond safari in the next post.

Below, more photos.

Another hyena mom with puppies, one with his neck in her mouth. Guide Landon said the adorable hyena puppies are his favorite baby animal.

Wild dog puppies. The guide said two nearby packs were having a territorial dispute. The fight did not interest the playful puppies, but our vehicle did.

These fellows, nyala and a wildebeest, hung out in the front yard of my room at Idube. All were very tame, including the wildebeest. I thought I could try to pet him, but suddenly I heard screams. I was warned that he might decide I was not so friendly and turn those horns on me. I retreated.

This hornbill joined us for breakfast, hoping for treats.

Impalas are more numerous than other African antelopes.

I booked my African adventure, South Africa (Kruger) and Madagascar, with Worldwide Quest, http://www.worldwidequest.com

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No new recipe this time. But, it’s not too late to take advantage of those summer tomatoes and try this delicious Savory Tomato Tarte Tatin. For more recipes, click here.

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Return to Germany

Like I remembered. Idyllic. We were surrounded by green, pure nature, at the Fischerhütte near Darmstadt, Germany.

*Thekla, Andrea and Thiemo at the Fischerhuettte*

Many, many years ago when I worked as a journalist at the newspaper Stars and Stripes, I lived not so far away. I remember hikes to the hütte in the forest. I remember treks to secret places in that forest in search of the coveted steinpilze (boletus, cepes, porcini – whatever the name, the king of mushrooms). I remember the tranquility, the beauty of those woods.

It was wunderbar to return to Germany after so many years. I have missed Deutschland – old friends, favorite foods, the lush forests.

Trout for lunch at the Fischerhuette, and the best German beverage, beer.

Andrea, the daughter of an old friend, her husband Thiemo and her sweet mother, Thekla, led me down memory lane, not just to the Fischerhütte, but other special spots. It was magical.

Many more memories were rekindled with friends in the Stuttgart area where I lived with husband Bob (RIP) for many years.

Gerlinde welcomed me in her Stuttgart home. Like many of my friends, she is a foodie par excellence, even making her own yogurt and ice cream. She is also devoted to fitness and swims against the jet stream in her pool for 20 minutes every day. I just swam, minus the jet stream.

*Gerlinde swims daily against a powerful water jet — Impressive.*

We drove to Steinenbronn, past the apartment where Bob and I lived for 11 happy years. At a nearby restaurant, I indulged in my very favorite Swabian special, Zwiebelrostbraten (onion steak) with homemade Spaetzle.

I can’t complain about food on the Mediterranean coast where I now live, yet there is a shortage of ethnic eateries.

Not so in Germany where, among others, Turkish restaurants abound. I miss those, too. Marianne treated me to lunch at her friendly neighborhood Turkish restaurant. I wanted to bring those flavors back to France.

Then, that de rigeur German ritual, afternoon Kaffee und Kuchen (coffee and cake) at her apartment.

Fun conversation and memories of good times enhanced all those luscious tastes.

My friends indeed lavished me with generous and delicious hospitality. Dagmar invited me and other friends to her home for a tasty lunch with a scrumptious raspberry cream dessert. And, Heti invited us to a multi-course dinner of exquisite delicacies, each worthy of a magazine photo (photos below). This was especially remarkable as she had fallen and broken her wrist the day before.

On my last day we met in Bebenhausen. Bob and I were avid cyclists. We liked to pedal from Steinenbronn to this tiny burg with an ancient monastery and an excellent restaurant. It is still charmingly picturesque. My last treat before heading home, another German delicacy: Rehrücken filet (venison filet). Delectable.

Living on the Mediterranean coast, I have the sea, palm trees, the Maritime Alps, tropical gardens – but no dense, enchanting forests. I had not realized that I was forest deprived. I was in awe of all the fabulous German greenery.

I mentioned this to Andrea, so we visited yet more. “I’ve never been to so many forests in one day,” she said. Gerlinde told me that Stuttgart has more green space than any other German city.

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep…,” and a treasure.

Thank you, dear friends, I loved my return to Germany –especially seeing all of you.

Below: Heti’s superb creations. Each was mouthwatering.

I will add a new recipe next time. Meanwhile, for an easy, tasty dessert, try my recent discovery, RUM-SOAKED MANGOES. Sinfully delicious.

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Rambling along the Riviera

Emmy and Anne came to visit. They are sisters, my cousins whom I have not seen in too many years.

Emmy is a year older than Anne. Anne is 5 days older than I. As children, we saw each other frequently. With time and moves, all that changed. (Thank you, Emmy, for above photo. )

**And cousins now**: Anne, me and Emmy. We celebrated Derby Day with mint juleps.
As a young reporter I worked for the Louisville Courier-Journal and was assigned to cover the elegant Derby “balls.”

Neither cousin had been to my turf in southern France. I wanted to show them my favorites and the must-sees of the area. We were on the move during their week-long visit, rambling along the Riviera.

I asked them to send me impressions, comments, etc. after their return. Continue reading for photo highlights and their comments.

First stop was the old village of Roquebrune, a quick, but steep drive from my abode. Gorgeous views and an ancient olive tree.

We ventured up in the hills on day #2 of their visit, a stop for meditation and reflection at the place where my Bob’s ashes have been dispersed. Husband Bob and I were avid cyclists. He loved challenging climbs. We attacked this road and its numerous hairpin turns many times.

*Pilgrimage chapel along the road between Sospel and Moulinet where I dispersed Bob’s ashes.*

“I loved seeing the remote and serene place where you gave Bob a final resting place. What a beautiful place to commune with nature and to be part of a sacred pilgrimage like so many before us,” Anne said.

We were on the border with Italy. I felt they should have a taste of my preferred country, so we continued up the mountain and returned to the coast via Italy. Bob and I had cycled some – but not all of this terrain. It was a long, long way down.

Anne’s comment: “You complained about the day with the too long drive but that was one of my favorite days. You are a fearless driver! The hairpin turns, the cyclists, the sheer drop offs were terrifying to me but didn’t seem to faze you.” …Driving in the Mediterranean hinterland is not for the faint of heart.

Markets are de rigueur around here. The Saturday morning market in nearby Menton is enticing with clothes (Italian bargains) in addition to tempting produce. Cousins were impressed, and each found a garment souvenir. “The market in Menton was lots of fun,” noted Emmy.

A market of a different sort was also high on their list of favorites. Conad, an Italian supermarket on the border, is like no other, the antithesis of a sanitized, huge, beautiful American supermarket. It’s cluttered, chaotic, always crowded. French love the cheaper prices. I love the prices too, but mostly the crazy ambiance and the Italian products.

Patience and skill required to negotiate the aisles at Conad.

For Anne, this was her “upfront favorite experience… both disorienting and fascinating.” Emmy commented that she was glad she had the experience “in the store with anything and everything one might want. ” Pots and pans, socks and underwear, plants and flowers — all are stuffed in those narrow Conad aisles.

Outstanding art museums are a major attraction on the Riviera, including the Picasso museum in Antibes where I found lots of photo opps.

Miro sculpture on the terrace of the Picasso museum.

But for me the museum piece de resistance is the Fondation Maeght in St. Paul de Vence. On my first trip to the Riviera moons ago, I visited the Fondation. I was overwhelmed then and overjoyed recently with our visit. The art museum on a hill overlooking the medieval town features a superb collection of modern art including large sculptures in gardens and on terraces.

Alexander Calder sculpture in the garden.

Since we were in the area, we stopped to visit the Matisse chapel in nearby Vence. A nun inspired the artist to create the chapel whose vibrant colors are dazzling.

Emmy summed up her take on the trip: ” I loved each and every excursion. Was especially intrigued by Dolceacqua with its historic bridge and unique and ancient tunnel structure leading up to the castle. Loved the trip to Eze with its beautiful gardens perched on the hilltop.”

*Dolceaqua with its castle and ancient bridge*

Food is a travel highlight. My dear cousins are easy to please and liked everything. We avoided expensive eateries. Sitting outdoors at a Vence resto, Anne ordered coffee as her lunch beverage. I explained that in France coffee is a breakfast drink, definitely not ordered as liquid refreshment with a noon or evening meal. However, after the meal, a “petit ” espresso is in order. It was all in fun. One can drink whatever whenever, but I thought they should learn a bit about the local customs.

“One of my favorite moments was when I ordered coffee at lunch and you gave me a startled look and told me that was a gauche thing to do. Or perhaps I am gauche, your country bumpkin, too-American cousin! That struck me as so amusing, so familial in a way,” she recalled. BTW: Anne is delightful, definitely not gauche.

Because we were on the move, I did not prepare at- home dinners, except for their arrival, my all-time favorite, Shakshuka. Click for the recipe. I had made a rum carrot cake in advance of their arrival. We had a slice every day — too much and it wore thin (but not on the waistline). We never did finish it.

It was heartwarming, fun and gratifying to reunite with my cousins. A few months ago my nephew visited – his first time in Europe. We had a “blast.” Read about that adventure: Intro to Europe 101.

I hope all my kin will come back. And, so does Simba who bonded with Emmy.

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TODAY’S TASTE: Rum-soaked mangoes (a winner)

Click on Mangoes for recipe and for more recipes, click here.

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Paris: A cathedral, couture – and cows

Notre Dame. We had to see it. Who doesn’t remember TV images of flames ripping through the glorious landmark cathedral five years ago?

That was then. Today. Wow! Considering the monumental damage from those flames and smoke, the interior is no less than miraculous. It’s vibrant. It dazzles. It’s lofty, light and inspiring.

Friend Karen and I followed the line of visitors moving slowly through the nave. We, and others, stopped to admire minute details which have been meticulously restored. We stopped for photos. And we stopped and stood and gazed, overpowered by the majesty of all.

We visited Paris in February. The weather was not pleasant (mainly gray and cold), nor was this the best time for special exhibitions at museums. One exhibit did receive lots of publicity: “Louvre Couture.” We went for it, but were somewhat underwhelmed. Enormous, imposing rooms where enormous ancient tapestries hang provide a backdrop for fashions dating from 1961 to the present.

It was impressive, as is the Louvre. But, where were all the rooms with gorgeous furniture and fashion featured in publicity photos? We backtracked, looking for doors, passages to other sections. No luck. We were no doubt lost in the Louvre and perhaps missed the best part, but we felt we had seen plenty of fashion.

There was more fashion of sorts at a Quai Branly Museum exhibit, “Golden Thread, the Art of Dressing from North Africa and the Far East.” Shimmering golden gowns by Chinese designer Guo Pei are over the top

I love this museum which offers a journey through the arts and civilizations of Asia, Africa, Oceania and the Americans. It’s fun and fascinating.

More at Branly: Indian costume, Mardi Gras New Orleans

“You don’t go to Paris to see cows,” a friend remarked. We did, and my mistake. The International Salon d’Agriculture was on in the French capital. Years ago, friends went and raved about it. Besides, I love animals – maybe more than fashion.

It was a long, too long, Uber ride. The “salon”was mammoth – pavilion after pavilion. We zeroed in on animals – the most popular and crowded pavilion. We did see some interesting species but probably not the best use of our limited time in Paris.

We enjoyed a more worthwhile visit to the Centre Pompidou for the Suzanne Valadon (1865-1938) retrospective. Valadon was a notable female artist whose works are bold in color, blending realism and expressionism. She focused on women, depicting them in everyday life.

More fashion at the Dior Gallery. And, more art at L’Atelier des Lumieres. A 19^th century iron foundry has been converted into a high-tech exhibition center where the works of famous artists are projected on the walls, floor and ceiling. Visitors sit on benches, on the floor, enveloped and mesmerized by the ever-changing art scene. We were surrounded by masterpieces of Picasso and Henri Rousseau – a delightful and dynamic experience.

This was my first visit back to my favorite city in six years. Back then I had normal mobility. Sadly, due to a horrendous fall, I now have “limited mobility.” I limp and walk with a cane, but it could be worse. This trip was a test. Can I travel as a cripple?

I can walk , do steps and cobblestones – slowly. Karen, an avid and fast walker, patiently put up with me. Previously the Metro was the preferred way of transportation in Paris, but I was fearful. No one moves slowly in the metro. Too risky. I would be mowed down. We traveled by Uber – also slow due to Paris traffic, but comfortable and interesting.

We traveled in Toyotas (many) as well a Mercedes, even a luxurious Lexus with soothing music and complimentary water. Fortunately, no Tesla. The drivers came from around the globe: Tunisia, Morocco, Algeria, Togo, Guadeloupe, Guinea, Haiti, Brazil, Cameroon and Ethiopia.

The journalist in me emerged. I probably asked too many questions, but was curious to learn about their backgrounds. All seemed happy to oblige. Selam from Ethiopia formerly had a travel agency in his country. Ever since reading a friend’s account of a trip to Ethiopia, I have longed to visit. Selam may help me plan a trip.

I conquered Paris without a fall. I passed the test. I can travel with limited mobility, but it’s comforting to be with a friend. Thank you, Karen.

The legendary restaurant Bofinger is next door to the hotel where we stayed (see below). Noted for seafood and Alsatian specialities. The only mishap of the trip was the oyster I ate there on our last night. It did me in, wiped me out for a week, but fortunately not until I was home.

IF YOU GO . . .

Paris is popular year-round. Even in dreary February we found lines everywhere. For attractions and exhibitions, book tickets online in advance, a must. Even then, expect to wait in line.

It was drizzling the morning we visited Notre Dame. We waited outdoors in line about 20 minutes, but the long line was constantly advancing. This may not be the case as the weather warms and the crowds grow. There is no charge to visit the cathedral. You can book an entry time slot on line. See web site, http://www.notredamedeparis.fr

Our hotel was about a two- minute walk from Place de Bastille.

We loved our hotel, the Bastille Speria, a small 3* hotel just minutes from the Place de la Bastille and the Bastille metro stop. Close to the Marais and Place des Vosges. Friendly, helpful staff. Clean, attractive rooms. Ample buffet breakfast, (eggs, fruit, yogurt, cheese, meats and more) included in the price. Free copy of the NYT in the mini lounge.

Hotel-bastille-speria.com or info@hotelsperia7.com

Karen(right) and I at Carette, Place des Vosges, a restaurant where I met a friend from Stars and Stripes days, Len Hill, and his partner Claudine. Good times — and delicious scrambled eggs, the restaurant speciality.

Photo of Notre Dame exterior courtesy of Adrienn on http://www.pexels.com

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At last I have a new recipe, broccoli salad, and need-to-know info on this amazing vegetable.

TODAY’S TASTE – Broccoli Salad

Broccoli is a winner in the healthy veg category. It’s rich in vitamins C and K and other nutrients. But — the best bonus is a phytochemical, sulforaphane, known as one of the most powerful anticarcinogens found in food.

Click on the picture for the recipe – and learn more about this amazing vegetable.
For more recipes, click here – and remember: comments are very welcome.

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13 responses to “Paris: A cathedral, couture – and cows”

leahlarkin

March 19, 2025

Stay tuned for more more recipes.

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Erika

March 16, 2025

It’s so amazing that you did that adventure, I’m proud of you. Did you take this pictures with your phone? They are so beautiful. Thanks for sharing

Erika

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1. leahlarkin
  
  March 16, 2025
  
  It was so good to be back in Paris. Even in cold, gray winter, it was a joy. iphone fotos. Thanks for the compliment.
  
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Karen

March 16, 2025

Don’t forget, Leah…….As we discovered, because you are handicapped, we could use the priority lanes at all the exhibitions. Which meant, no long lines for you, and as I was your accompagnante, I also got to get in first, and even in some cases, free. Also, your press card helped. So, yes, I did travel a little more slowly than usual, but there were advantages to being with you. And, we had a good time, despite the weather.

Lovely blog of an interesting and fun trip.

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1. leahlarkin
  
  March 16, 2025
  
  We deserved the advantages. It was a plus to Jump the lines for sure. I am so glad we made the trip. Thanks for being my “accompagnante. »
  
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charettehood

March 16, 2025

so happy to hear that you are a travelling cripple!! Ha

Sue

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1. leahlarkin
  
  March 16, 2025
  
  Better to travel as a cripple than not travel.
  
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Ortrud Hundertmark

March 16, 2025

Hallo Leah ich habe,wie immer, deinen Reisebericht mit großer Freude gelesen. Deine Berichte sind immer sehr aufschlussreich präzise und spannend zu lesen.

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1. leahlarkin
  
  March 16, 2025
  
  Vielen Dank Liebe Ortrud. Hat Mich gefreut von dir zu hoeren. Paris hat Spass gemacht. Gruesse an Kurt.
  
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Meg Downie

March 16, 2025

A great read Leah. I’m itching to get back to France.

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1. leahlarkin
  
  March 16, 2025
  
  Thank you, Meg. Come and see me.
  
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mkratage

March 15, 2025

It’s great to see you traveling again, Leah, even if at a slower pace. Notre Dame looks fantastic. Your photos are always beautiful and explanations interesting. Marian

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1. leahlarkin
  
  March 16, 2025
  
  I was very happy to conquer Paris at a slow pace. It was a good trip, and Notre Dame is a sensation. Thanks for the comment, Marian.
  
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A Picture is Worth 1,000 Words

Since I have been doing nothing exciting to write about, this will be mainly a photo blog.

The heat and humidity here in southern France have been too much for me. Fortunately, my apartment building has a TDF (to die for) pool. I swim and do my pool rehabilitation exercises every morning, then spend the rest of the day in the comfort of my air-conditioned apartment. It gets monotonous.

At 9 a.m. I am often the only one in the pool. Heaven!

Not just the heat, but the crowds also keep me home bound. I live in a vacation paradise. The beaches are packed. Finding a parking place is as challenging as finding a contact lens in the sea. A tranquilizer is required to negotiate the traffic.

It is in the French DNA to take vacation in July or August, with August being the preferable month. This applies to all – not just families with children which is understandable.

A bachelor lawyer I know has closed shop for all of August. Friend Karen bought an apartment in the spring. She is having it renovated, but all work stopped in mid July and will not continue until September. Vacation time.

My physical therapist is “en vacance “ for the entire month. (The French get five weeks of paid vacation per year, plus lots of holidays.). It’s best not to get sick in France in August. Your doctor will likely be on the golf course or beach somewhere far off. Your favorite pharmacy, bakery, butcher shop – likely closed until September.

Fortunately, the “rentree” ( when kids go back to school) is around the corner. Life will return to normal soon.

Following are random photos retrieved from the innards of my computer. Most are from fascinating trips husband Bob and I had the fortune to enjoy. We loved to explore far off lands, learn about different cultures, and meet the locals. It was all fun and enriching.