Sorry to be so late today, but I had unexpected company last night. Good fun, but the blog, I fear, escaped my mind.

We watched the special on Whitney Houston, and I couldn’t help but feel such great sorrow about a talent lost. One of my all-time favorite song sis “I’ll always love you,” and one of my favorite films is “Body Guard.” I intend to watch the funeral today, partly to say goodbye and also because of the music.

Last week I watched as some objected to the New Jersey governor’s decision to fly the flag half-mast today (Saturday). Some of the objections came from the families of our dead warriors. I understand their objection, but I also understand his decision. She was beloved by New Jersey, and her sad choices didn’t change the joy she gave to so many of its residents, as well as those around the world.

We can’t even begin to understand the pressures of a world famous songstress who, at 48, lost some of the power of her voice and watched her career spiral downward One friend on a newscast said she was broke, and that her latest tour was a disaster, that she was booed and some of the audiences walked out. Being a writer who has experienced rejection, I can understand a little of the feeling of failure. Then magnified it by a thousandfold. To go from a world icon to the object of ridicule on U-tube must be almost intolerable.

A voice coach said she’d been working very hard on a voice damaged by smoke and alcohol and drugs, that it was coming back. She’s just finished a film which she hoped would help restore her reputation. There was hope.

But there must have been great despair as well when she attended the ceremonies for the top music awards. She was not among the nominees. She was not among those asked to sing.

It must have been a terrible hurt.

This blog is certainly not to excuse her behavior, her retreat to alcohol and drugs, but no one can ever take away the joy and memories she has given. How many of her songs helped develop romance and how many helped the hurts?.

So I don’t begrudge her the lowering of the flag in tribute to what she had given us. And I bid her a sad goodbye.

What is your favorite Whitney Houston song?

Two of my favorite books last year were “Fall of Giants” by Ken Follett and “Only Time Will Tell” by Jeffrey Archer. Both books are set before and during World War I.   I loved the history and glimpses into a period often ignored.

I particularly enjoyed the Follett book because the book — all 900 pages of  it — so clearly explored the reasons behind that war, and accomplished it with compelling characters and fine storytelling. The viewpoints came from a boy destined to work in Welsh mines, the wealthy and titled family that owned the mine, a German diplomat and two Russian brothers, all of whom witnessed great upheavals of society and world politics. I can’t wait for his next book which carries the same characters and their families into War World II.

The Archer book also involved class distinctions and a changing world. The hero is the poor lad destined to labor in the shipyards until his voice wins him a scholarship, and he falls in love with a girl of a wealthy family. It too will have a sequel later this year. I’m anxiously waiting for that one as well.

Perhaps because of those two books, I’ve become addicted to “Downton Abbey” on PBS. I left the Super Bowl ads to watch Sunday night’s episode. Couldn’t wait to watch it later that night. If you haven’t found it, Downtown Abbey is a beautifully filmed saga of a wealthy family (think of a more elaborate “Upstairs, Downstairs”) during the same years as “Fall of Giants.” The highly acclaimed Emmy-winning series started last season and has continued this year.

The Downton Abby estate is a magnificent example of wealth and privilege, its family enduring for generations. But after the turn of the century, change is coming. The death of the male heir (the Titanic, of course) has thrown the future of the occupying Crawley family in jeopardy. The three daughters are going their own way, one in love with the chauffeur, the oldest threatened by scandal and the third always falling for the wrong man.

There’s romance and scandals and even a few scoundrels. Love flourishes both upstairs and downstairs. And when war comes, the peaceful and traditional existence explodes in tragedy. Men march off to war from both the family and their servants, and the estate becomes a military hospital.  Lives are changed forever.

The acting is outstanding with Maggie Smith as an humorously opinionated dowager, Elizabeth McGovern as the wealthy American wife to the earl and. Hugh Bonneville as the upright and compassionate head of the family. And the series is worthwhile watching for the clothes alone (it won the Emmy for costumes).

I hope it continues for a long, long time.

As a writer, I’m often asked whether I have a favorite book among those I’ve written. Or, more directly, what IS my favorite?

I have a stock answer.   It’s like asking a mother what child she likes best. Each one is part of her. Each one has a different personality. Each one has different characteristics.  But she loves them all.

Our books are like that. Each one is a part of us. Our heroes and heroines are often composed of bits and pieces of people we know or would like to know. And we live with that book for months or even a year. And we Iove different books for different reasons. I might love this heroine more, or that hero, or the plot, or background or for a combination of these reasons.

But in moments of honesty I admit  I do have a favorite book. It’s set in a place I visited for years and used to wander through its ruins. It’s Jekyll Island, a barrier island off the coast of Georgia where the country’s millionaires and captains of industry once played.   The Jekyll Island Club, founded in the 1880′s, had a membership of 100 and it was said that they represented 90 percent of the world’s wealth.    Called the richest, the most exclusive, the most inaccessible club in the world, the membership included William Vanderbilt, William Rockefeller, Vincent Astor, Jay Gould, Macy, Goodyear, Marshall Field, J.P. Morgan, Henry Hyde and Joseph Pulitzer, to mention only a few. The first Transatlantic call was made from Jekyll Island and what was to become the federal Reserve System had its beginnings on the island.

The Club included a majestic hotel and many member “cottages.” The members and their families sailed yachts to the island and rode around in miniature cars. With the advent of “the season,” they gathered to enjoy hunting trips, lawn parties, carriage rides and leisurely afternoon on the beach. For years there was unofficial competition among the yatching members to see who would arrive in the most impressive and beautifully appointed vessel.

Alas, all good things come to an end. It was closed in 1941 with the threat of German submarines just off the coast, inducing the U.S. Government to evacuate the island. The kidnaping of the leading American industrialists would send the war effort into chaos. It is that piece of history that inspired my favorite book.

A resident of Atlanta, I visited Jekyll Island several times a years. I loved the island and its history.   After the war, the club never reopened. A bridge was built, linking the island to the mainland, and the state took over ownership. It was determined to save vast areas in wilderness; no high rises allowed. I loved the old one and two-story family beach motels on the part of the beach that was developed and marvelled at the giant moss-covered Oaks that watched over so much history. I used to wander among the ruins of the “cottages” and envision the millionaires that once played here. Ghosts. There always seemed to be ghosts there.

Perhaps it is because I so loved Jekyll that this book, “Island Of Dreams,” is my favorite. The island itself is a major character in the book. I tried to bring to life the ambiance of the Millionaire’s Club in 1941 along with the horror of the first days of the war for America.

It was a hard book to sell. World War II romances were not selling. It was a risk for publishers who do not like to take risks. But Harper Collins was just beginning to publish paperbacks and they took it. It had a really terrible cover, and its salesmen were not keen on selling paperbacks. It didn’t do well despite great reviews. But then it was picked up in hardback by a British company which publishes mainly for libraries, and it was reissued by Harper with a better cover three years latter. It was a Rita Finalist and Maggie winner.

My hero is a German spy, and he is one of my favorite all time heroes. Talk about challenging. It isn’t easy making a German spy appealing but the deeply conflicted Michael Fielding stole my heart. My heroine is the long time nanny for one of the millionaire families. It is her last winter on Jekyll as she has just finished college and has a job waiting. The passion that erupts between them threatens to destroy both and leaves a deadly legacy.

The reason for this blog is that “Island of Dreams” will soon be available on Amazon, and I’m really delighted. More than delighted. It’s been virtually impossible to get, even with Amazon used books. I’ve been working on short blurbs and covers and hope to have the on line date soon.

Three other of my early books will also be available, including “LawLess,” “Lightning” and “Rainbow.” More about them later.

One of the day trips from our ship was to Baden Baden located deep in the Black Forest, and it was as enchanting as I’d expected.

Baden Baden was one of the few German cities to escape destruction during World War II, mainly because it was a recreational area without any nearby war production facilities. Nestled in the thickly forested mountains, it was for centuries the playground for the wealthy from throughout Europe. Royalty and aristocracy would come from all corners to gamble in the world’s top casino, experience the hot springs and take the Kur – a sauna, massage, and utter restfulness. Even Mark Twain visited Baden, remarking that “I fully believe I left my rheumatism there.” Two castles overlook the town.

The Trinkhalle (Drinking Hall)

We didn’t have time to take the Kur, a two hour plus process, but we did visit the Grand Casino. Inspired by the Palace of Versailles, it was built in the 1850′s and was called by Marlene Dietrich the most beautiful Casino in the world.

Our guide painted pictures in words the beautifully gowned women and elegantly dressed gentlemen pulling up in carriages. Unfortunately it was the main floor of the casino was closed when we were there, but we were allowed in the lobby to glimpse its grandeur.

The Paintings that line the exterior of the Trinkhalle

Then it was on to the Trinkhalle, its long entrance hall decorated with nymphs and romantic legends. Inside we had a glass of the mineral water which is supposed to do wondrous things for one’s health. I had a glass and perhaps it was my imagination, but yes, I had more energy.

Then we went to the Christmas Market and it was one of the largest and most varied of any we visited during the trip. There were rows and rows of the decorated wooden huts, but these included such treats as Black Forest Ham and gingerbread cookies for which the area is famous. I bought several packages of the former to bring back to Memphis and consumed the latter. Then I was tempted by a wonderfully long piece of dough fried in oil and sugared. I shared with others in the group, then regretted the sharing. One myth broken. I’d always heard German food was bland, but I found that totally wrong. The ham was fantastic when consumed in Memphis, the best ham I’ve ever had. And, of course, there was more hot wine to warm us while browsing among the many booths. I found several gifts, including a lovely hand-worked silver medallion necklace and a softly woven silver scarf.

Manger Scene at Christmas Market

It was raining, which accounts for few photos, but I loved every moment of picturesque Baden Baden. The Cathedral was lovely and the downtown charming. Both the city and the ride through the Black Forest were well worth every minute spent there.

The history is fascinating as well. Around 1000 B.C. Celtic tribes inhabited much of the area and their influence is still felt in the names of the rivers, forests and towns. The Roman emperor Hadrian founded the first permanent settlement and there are still remnants of their Roman baths. During the Middle Ages, the province was renamed Baden after a town of the same name.

The Cathedral at Baden Baden

 I minored in history in College, but these recent trips to Europe have brought it all so alive, and I’m hungry for more. You can read about it in books, but seeing these towns and village and cities and learning their history puts history into perspective.

This will be short today due to a tooth removall today (Friday) and a hefty amounts of pain relievers, steroids, and antibiotics. Warning: I’m not responsible for anything in this blog today.

I always like to hope that I have a bit of a heroine in me. Just a trace, maybe.

I want to be steady in an emergency. I want to offer help when help is needed. I like to think I would spring to action if someone was in danger.

But mention a dentist to me, and I turn into a mass of trembling jelly. Having had some bad experiences in the past, I tend to view any visit with great trepidation. Today proved me correct when a visit turned into three hours of misery, when a broken tooth (from Christmas toffee) proved extremely stubborn in being removed (I must admit a few other repairs were made). And no, gas, which I insisted upon, did not help at all.

Dentists hate to see me come in the door.   Perhaps it’s the utter terror on my face.

Or the pile of books I always bring.   I know, I know, this is ridiculous, but books are not only a distraction, but just the feel of one in my lap provides comfort. Three multiply that feeling. What if another patient had an emergency and I was stuck for hours in one of those small, white rooms furnished with wicked looking drills?  (What was the title of the film in which the villain tortured the hero by using dental instruments?) I can’t remember the name but I remember every horrifying moment. It has haunted me for thirty some years.

Then I explain in great detail that although I think dentists must be very nice people, I would just rather not test that belief. And yes, I do want gas, despite the fact that they explain, again in great detail, that it is completely unnecessary with all the new techniques. Well, it really hasn’t been that long since my last visit. I didn’t notice any new techniques. The drill still drills, and what looks like plyers still pulls and the picks still gouge.

I survived, which is a good thing, but I look like a beaver with swollen cheeks and orders not to drink an alcoholic beverage for twenty-four hours.    I was also told I must eat soft foods for three weeks as to not disturb a temporary crown.

But I must admit I will be most happy to go to Spain with fine teeth, and I am really, really glad I didn’t live in the 1880′s when I probably wouldn’t have any teeth at all or have them jerked out by Doc Holliday.

And now off for another pill.

Remember, I warned you.

Our river boat arrived in Cologne on a Sunday morning. Cologne is located on both sides of the Rhine River. It’s the fourth largest city (after Berlin, Hamburg and Munich) in Germany) and it is truly lovely. Although 72 percent of the city area was destroyed during World War Ii, the city has been completely rebuilt, and the old city looks much as it had before the War.

Our Sunday arrival was a mixed blessing. The good news was that on the Sunday before Christmas, the Christmas Markets were running full force. The bad news was that the Cologne Cathedral – one of the oldest and finest in Europe – was full of worshippers and I was unable to go inside.

Part of Cologne's Christmas Markets

So, instead, I browsed through the Christmas markets and set off for the Chocolate Museum. Yes, there is a Chocolate Museum in Cologne, a very elaborate museum at that.

Chocolate, I might add, is very, very big in Germany. On nearly every stop our guide or program director would direct us to one of the “best chocolate shops” in Germany. I tasted chocolate in Heidelberg where the “Student’s Kiss” is famous. No it’s not a kiss at all, but a piece of chocolate that was all that was allowed between the female and male species a hundred years ago. The best chocolate ever, according to the guide.

Then we went to Koblenz where the guide led us to a chocolate shop. The best ever, we were promised again. Yep, it certainly qualified, and I say this without being a chocolaholic. I can take it or leave it and, in fact, usually I leave it. I must say, however, that I had to try the much praised German chocolate.

In addition to all the candy, there was hot chocolate at the Christmas markets. Not your ordinary hot chocolate, mind you. Extraordinarily rich hot chocolate topped by mounds and mounds of real whipped cream.

So now I was in Cologne and several people suggested the Chocolate Museum and off I went. I would include photos, but my battery died during the day. I I can, however, give you some wonderful chocolate quotes, courtesy of the museum:　

“Twill make old women young and fresh,

Create new motions of the flesh,

And cause them long for you know what,

If they but taste of chocolate.”

James Wadsworth, London, 1665,

“I have never watched my figure and never needed to. What you see before you is he result of a lifetime of chocolate.”

Katherine Hepburn, aged 70

“Cocoa strengthens the stomach, enlivens the spirits, thins the juices and the blood, incites the fleshly desires, strengthens the head and relieves pain, and its praises both as nutrition and medicine cannot be sung loudly enough.”

Johann Gottfried Kuhne, 1717

“You are a refreshing shower that wets the heart,

The source of inspiration for a poet spirit,

Oh, sweet drink, gift of the stars,

You can only be a potion of the gods.”

Jesuit Ferronius, Spain 1664

“Gods enjoy ambrosia;

Humans chocolate;

Both give longer life,

To the gods and ourselves.”

G.B. Anfossi, Venice 1779

I also learned more about chocolate than I ever wanted to know. For instance, the cocoa tree originated in the Amazon region. Cocoa reached Central America from there with the help of animals. The first civilized people to use cocoa were the Olmecs around 1000 B.C..

The word for cocoa came into the Mayan language between 400 B.C. and 100 A.D. The Mayan people were farming cocoa on giant plantations in 500 B.C. and brought cocoa to Aztec markets. Both peoples used cocoa as a means of payment and medicine. .

The first evidence of the “drink of the gods” in Europe stems from the year 1544. Together with other gifts, Dominican monks and a number of Maya nobles brought Prince Phillip II vessels containing beaten chocolate.

 Then in the 18^th Century it has become a status symbol of aristocrats who enjoyed the drink in porcelain services made by Meissen in Germany. Hot Chocolate was not always necessarily drunk from cups, and was more often served in the saucer – the hot chocolate was cooled to comfortable drinking temperatures this way.

Now, if you will excuse me, I’m off to fetch one of those lovely pieces of chocolate I brought back from Germany..

More about Cologne next week.

 This is my first visit  to Germany.   I’ve always had mixed feelings about that country. I remember my parents telling me about World War II and the close cousin they lost there, along with other relatives. My father had appointments to West Point and Annapolis in the 1930′s but lost them because they found a spot on his lungs. The spot later proved to be nothing, but I’ve always wondered whether I would have had a father if that spot had not been there. As an officer, he would have been in the midst of the war. Instead, he became a toolmaker, then a Master Mechanic in a small arms factory, a vital industry during the war.  

Then we moved to Huntsville, Alabama, where dad was involved in the space program. He worked with the German scientists brought to Huntsville after the war. His friends were German. My best friend and my brother’s best friend were German. We were the only Americans in the Lutheran Church.

One reason I really like Grand Circle Travel, the company Lynn introduced me to, is that they don’t just take you to places, but they also explain the politics of today as well as those in the past. In exploring Croatia, I not only loved the walled medieval cities Lynn and I visited, but I learned so much about the genesis of so many of the tensions that still haunt the region. I had the same feelings about my trip to France, then to Germany. It’s haunting to hear that a city I visited had been nearly completely destroyed in the 1940′s. Today it looks much as it did before the bombing. There is no evidence of destruction except in the memories of the people and those of its neighbors. Some of those tensions remain today. You can hear it in their voices if not their words. The program director explained in detail the reasons Hitler gained control and the causes of World War II, but it’s really difficult to understand the madness that took over a nation and it’s always been difficult for me to equate the people I knew with the people who tolerated or stood by while mammoth crimes were happening.   Close to home, the father of one of my  friends was deported –years after being brought here – for war crimes.

So one of the highlights of the trip was a visit to the Liberation Museum in the Netherlands, a building just a few feet from the German border.

The flags at the Liberation museum in Groesbeek, Holland

 It’s a huge museum, put together by the Dutch residents and American servicemen who fought there. There is one full time employe. The others on staff are all volunteers, Dutch men and women who still honor the Americans and Canadians who liberated the area during Operation Market Garden, one of the great battles near the end of the war.   The operation failed when the Allies failed to take bridges over the Rhine to enter Germany.

The Americans Come!

   A film, “A Bridge Too Far,” memorialized the battle.    Although the objective failed, the allies did liberate part of  the Netherlands, and the Dutch are still grateful.   The residents still find live grenades and other munitions in their gardens and fields. When they do, they place them next to their mailboxes to be picked up. That’s how ordinary these reminders of war are.

Our Lady Liberty outside the museum

Yesterday becomes real in this museum.   One of the most moving sections includes volume after volume of officials reports of Allied deaths. This bomber went down in the Atlantic with all hands lost, and the names of the lost crew members are listed.  Reading those names of men – and a few women – makes the war seem yesterday rather than sixty some years ago.

Another  exhibit in the museum was entitled, “What would you do?” and set forth several scenarios.  True ones.  For instance, what would you do if you were a member of the resistance and killed a German soldier, and the Gestapo took the father of your best friend and the mayor of the city and others and said they would kill them if you did not surrender. Turning yourself in would probably mean torture and the capture of your friends? What would you do?

That was the reality for so many, some of whom still live today and remember.

Another exhibit

The trip was about Christmas markets, and I’ll have many, many photos in the next couple of weeks. Cathedrals and Christmas lights and hot mulled wine and pastries and music and laughter. But the most meaningful stop was that museum, and it is that which will remain in my mind and heart.

Swans, Swans everywhere around our ship.

On a lighter note, I thought I would also share the photo below.  Swans are all over the Rhine, and when we dock, they gather around, hoping for a handout.

A street in Heidelberg

The castle above Heidelberg

First of all, I want to wish everyone  A very Merry Christmas and happy holidays.  

I’m very happy to be back home from Germany and so were my dogs, Katy and Allie.    Allie even tolerated the indignity of  the Santa hat.    I tolerated two solid hours of dog kisses.

Allie not quite sure about being Santa

I did, however,  manage to pick up a very bad cold, probably from the ten-hour plus plane trip Tuesday.   I had jet lag

Wednesday and Thursday, then today (Friday) came down with a very bad cold.  Not good going into Christmas weekend.    And Friday night, I attended a very large family gathering.  

But I had a marvelous time touring Germany via a river ship down the Rhine.    I’ll be blogging about it for the next several weeks but some quick observations and overall impressions.   Germany is lovely, and its Christmas markets are enchanting. 

The gates to Heidelberg

   The perfume of hot mulled wine, cooking pastries, and grilled bratwurst is everywhere.   Each city offers its wine and chocolate (with wonderful whipped cream) in its own unique cup, and nearly every fellow passenger  tried to collect one from each destination.  I gave up after six, but I’ll treasuure that collection.   More photos next week on Christmas markets.

Heidelberg was a delight, but then so were all the destinations.  A student at Heidelberg University was our guide.   Up until the last seven years or so, tuition was free.   Now it’s 700 Euros a semester, a great bargain compared to our costs.   Even more startling is the fact that the rest is all paid by the state.   There are no alumni donors.   That apparently is uniquely American. 

The world's largest wine barrel, and a happy me.

The city itself is much as I imagined.   Picturesque, charming, storybook.    A monkey guards the river that has always protected the city.  Two of its unique offerings is the Student’s Kiss, a chocolate kiss that substituted for the real thing when romance was frowned upon.   The second is the Student’s Prison, which was used to confine student miscreants.     A stay there became more a badge of honor than punishment, and its walls hold century-old student poems and artwork.

The square housed a network of Christmas Market stalls: scarves, woodwork, nativity scenes and figures, jewelry, needlework, hats (Christmas hats are very big in Germany), and wine, wine, wine and food, food, food.   

Then there was a visit to Heidleberg Castle which houses the world’s largrest wine barrel.     Its position on the top of  a hill provides a panorama visw of the town and river below.  

The castle in Heidelberg

Overall, I discovered a very real love for river travel,  There is something very relaxing about cruising the great river and passing endless castles and lovely towns along the way.    The passengers have much in common and become friends in a very short time, but more about later.

One of the many Christmas Market decorations

In the meantime have a great holiday.

Last week I promised some photos of our family’s annual gingerbread project. So here they are. Kits are purchased with the basic gingerbread house and the rest is left to the imagination of the participants.

Me. Notice the concentration.

 There’s only one rule: you can only use edible items to decorate. No ifs, buts or maybes about it. No glue. Icing is used as an adhesive, and you can imagine how sticky fingers can get. Bars of chocolate make the sides, red gum covers the roof with snow (the icing). Red and black licorice are used, along with gumdrops, M&M’s and various other sweets. Crackers and cheese are allowable.

A table of artists with one exception.

This was my maiden year, and I sadly admit my first effort was less than impressive, especially compared to the others. My niece and sister-in-law are both artists and the others have years of experience in constructing wonderful gingerbread houses. They produce wonderful houses. Unfortunately, I didn’t know much about icing as a glue and my roof and doors kept falling off. Not good.

A break for Jello shots. Never heard of them? Neither had I until tempted.

I chose a dog house as my motif, and why not after a week of five dogs under my roof? . Dogs, dogs everywhere and nary an empty place to nest. So what else could I do? I thought it a brilliant idea. Until, that is, I actually attempted it. Erin, my wonderful niece-in-law, helped greatly when she molded Charlie Brown out of marshmallows and other goodies to go on top. My house was redeemed! Kinda. It still looks rather pitful.

Several of the masterpieces.

Next year, I plan to do better. I’ll bring my own candies to decorate and I’ll use a lot more icing to hold the licorice and gumdrops. No more doghouses. Just a wonderland cottage. They’re easier. No chocolate bar siding to fall off.

Here's my finished product after three hours of hard labor. Yes, that's Snoopy up there.

I hope you enjoy the photos. Decorating gingerbread houses makes a great holiday project that involves the whole family, including the younger ones. A bit of competition always adds a bit of spice to the effort. It’s all climaxed by a great lunch.

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I’m off to Germany next Friday and I have a million things to do before then.

There’s been a few mishaps in the last few weeks. They slowed me down, and now I’m panicking. Too much to do and not the time to do it.

First of all, my left foot stopped working. It’s a bionic foot, sort of put together with all kinds of odds and ends after an automobile action severed the nerve that makes the foot go up and down. It usually works pretty well, but then about three weeks ago it stopped working. I could barely hobble from one room to another.

My German river cruse trip was in jeopardy! I couldn’t walk from my bedroom to the kitchen without terrible pain, much less do the walking through airports and German streets the trip entailed. A trip to my doctor sent me to an orthopedic doctor. Multiple x-rays, blood tests and a MRI later, the doctors finally concluded that it was an infection in the foot. I was prescribed two strong antibiotics which created some unpleasant side effects, including a fast-growing rash.

Desperate calls to the doctors resulted in still another and, hopefully, a more amiable antibiotic and a suggestion to stuff myself with yogurt. In addition to all this, I’ve had, as you know from last week, some extra dog visitors. But now my foot is working properly now, my house is back to normal with only two dogs. There’s still some side effects from the antibiotics but I can live with those.

And so I plan on flying next Friday to Switzerland and embarking on a river boat that travels through the heart of Germany to the Netherlands. Eleven lovely days visiting French, German and Belgium Christmas markets along the way. Among the highlights are Strasbourg, France, which is now the capital of France’s Alsace wine-making region. Lynn knows how happy that will make me. Then a stretch of the Rhine River which runs through a deep gorge lined with majestic ruined castles, villages frozen in time and terraced vineyards that produce the country’s Riesling wines. It’s the setting for Richard Wagner’s Gotterdammerung. Then on to Speyer and romantic Heidelberg. Next stop Mainz, Germany, to visit the great eleventh-century Gutenberg Museum. The ship then cruises along some of the most beautiful places of the Rhine, including to Lorelei Rock.

There’s lots of other attractions, in addition to the Christmas markets where I plan to taste hot mulled wine, sausages, and pastries. I’ve already lost ten pounds so I can gain them back.

Alas, I expect I’ll not be able to blog for the next two weeks, but I promise many, many photos on my return December 20^th.