Something Like a Homecoming
This story is not very exciting nor dramatic. It doesn’t have a surprise ending, as some of my stories have. So, why write it? I am writing it because it was something like a homecoming. A story full of love and nostalgia. People and places which I love, and people who love me and my family. It is the story of my trip to Europe in 2018, when I was 93 years old. I had been taking care of my Polish husband, Andrzej (pronounced Ahn´Jay), during the early stages of dementia, as well as running the household, which includes garden and pools. I used to jokingly say that I had been mistakenly chosen to run Grand Central Station. It was overwhelming and exhausting. Andrzej didn’t want me to go on this trip, but everyone else urged me to do what I wanted to do. Our daughter, Eva, our son Jan, and a paid helper stayed with Andrzej during my absence.
I knew I couldn’t travel abroad alone at 93. No one in my family offered to accompany me. So, I hired a traveling companion. I found someone who resembled our son, Jan. Tall, slim, middle-aged, soft-spoken and caring. Paul Terpeluk, who runs a Home Care business in Roseville. On the trip, several people asked me if I was his mother. He treated me as if I were. It was a very expensive way to travel, but I felt I had no choice.
Here is the story of that trip, in the form of a journal that I wrote during the trip.
Tuesday, July 24
My traveling companion, Paul Terpeluk, appeared at our house in Davis at 8:45 a.m. At 9:30, the driver arrived and drove us to the San Francisco Airport. Before we left, Alicia, one of my granddaughters, called to wish me a good trip. Susan, my devoted helper, did too. Eva had come the night before, to stay with Dad for the first five days. Andrzej was still sleeping when I left.
At San Francisco Airport, we had to wait a long time for the wheelchair. Had a light meal in the United Lounge. We took off around 2:30 p.m., a non-stop Swiss Air/United flight from San Francisco to Zurich.
I flew Business Class; Paul, Economy. He was very helpful and protective (even accompanying me to the ladies room beforehand because I was afraid of getting lost in that huge bustling terminal). He rearranged his seat in Economy so that I could see him from my seat in Business Class.
I had a window seat, as I always try to have, but I did not know how to use all of the devices: the device used to call the stewardess was on the T.V. screen, but I did not know how to use the T.V. I did not know how to get rid of the dark glass covering the window. I did not know how to make my seat into a bed. A very nice young woman seated next to me helped me.
I rested through most of the trip, didn’t sleep at all, but I watched a very entertaining movie: “Funny Face,” starring Fred Astaire and Audrey Hepburn.
Wednesday, July 25
At the Zurich terminal, I was overjoyed hearing announcements in four languages, English, German, French and Italian. I knew I was back in Europe. (When I lived in Oslo with my first husband, Christian Bay, we traveled around a lot. I felt I was more European than American. I felt the same way during our year in Wengen, Switzerland.) After claiming our bags, we took a train to Basel, where Kim Vergil and her husband Louis now live. A beautiful landscape, lots of trees, green hills and cultivated farmland.
Kim met us at the train station in Basel, with her short, purple-splashed hair. She was very happy to see me. She drove us to a suburb, Allschwil, where they were renting a very nice, modern house on top of a hill. Three floors and a garden, but no closets. Louis works for a pharmaceutical company, doing very important international work that takes him all over the world. Kim often goes with him. They love it here, where they have to stay for two years, but might stay indefinitely rather than returning to Montreal.
After taking a much-needed nap (my basement room had dark red sheets on the bed), we drove over the border to France, 10 minutes away, where I treated them to a very good dinner. We sat outside in a garden. I had a sweet white wine and salmon. Very nice! They are very hospitable. I feel happy to be here.
Thursday, July 26
This was a long, very hot day! Kim and I took a five-hour trip on the Rhine River after having breakfast at home. It was very pleasant, but too long, and we both missed the commentary, which often accompanies such a trip. Maybe there was nothing special to point out.
The Rhine is very green, with lots of trees on both sides and green hills in the distance. We saw lots of people bathing in the river, which is unpolluted and very popular. There is a strong current. Most people just allow the current to carry them. My traveling companion, Paul, who was staying at a hotel in Basel, went swimming in the Rhine. He said there were lots of shops and cafes along the river, where you could get coffee, ice cream, etc., and your clothes travel with you in a clothes container that bobs along on the water. I would have liked that to try that, but I couldn’t deal with the strong current.
On board, we had a light lunch, which consisted of a very delicate kind of pizza. I had a good, fruity beer. Everyone around us seemed to be drinking beer. We had a nice time together. The boat was packed with people enjoying themselves. We passed through several locks. Afterwards, I bought a pair of black sandal-like shoes, since my new white ones were very uncomfortable, and an alarm clock, since mine stopped working. Louis drove down the hill to meet us. I felt too tired to climb. We had a delicious spaghetti dish made by him for dinner, sitting outdoors on the porch, after having a much-needed Gin and Tonic!
These people have been wonderful hosts. I have enjoyed every minute here, and regret that we must leave tomorrow. I am especially impressed by the way in which Kim is learning to speak German, taking an early morning class every day and really trying to use what she is learning. (She is Eva’s age, 56.) She also reaches out to people, as Eva does, makes friends with anyone who happens to be nearby. I asked if she had always been like that and she said, “I work at it.” A most admirable and devoted friend.
Last night, we called home using Paul’s iPhone. We talked to Eva and Andrzej. Everything is under control there. I left a message for Susan, thanking her again for all she did to make this trip happen. Tomorrow, Paul and I will be driven from Basel to Lauterbrunnen, where we will take the train up the mountain to Wengen.
Friday, July 27
When I woke up in Allschwil at 9:00 a.m., Kim had already left for her German lesson. Louis made an omelet for me. We had breakfast on the patio overlooking a lovely garden with red geraniums. Instead of taking a short walk with him as planned, I packed my bags to be ready to leave for Wengen on time.
Around noon, Kim returned. Then Paul joined us for a quick lunch consisting of cold Gazpacho, avocados and other things. At 2:30, the driver appeared. We said goodbye to Kim and took off for Lauterbrunnen, a beautiful sunny day. Not too hot!
The trip was very scenic, like driving in Vermont. Lots of green trees and hills. I asked the driver to drive through Interlaken. I had tears in my eyes when I recognized the magnificent Victoria Hotel and Shuh’s Restaurant, where I used to have lunches long ago. I frequently had lunch on Saturdays at Shuh’s Restaurant when I went by train to Interlaken to shop. I always brought home pastries for my family. I couldn’t believe I was really there. Interlaken was lively with summer crowds, and a very gay atmosphere, just as I remembered it. We saw lots of spectacular snow-capped mountains suddenly looming up. I was so happy to see mountains again! There are no mountains near Davis, CA, where we have lived for 50-some years.
Then we drove to the little town of Lauterbrunnen, just as I remembered it. From there, we took the train to Wengen, full of young, lively holiday people. The woman who drove us from the Wengen train station in her taxi, was the same woman who drove us to our chalet a few years ago, when we stayed in Wengen for a week with Eva, Jan and family. At first, she did not recognize me, but then remembered the name of the chalet where we had stayed. She remembered us!
Ursula, the young attractive woman at the reception desk at the Altamira Hotel was especially helpful. She is the daughter of the former owners, who may have been there in the 70s when Auntie Rita visited us. Ursula even procured some yogurt, which I need for taking my pills.
Wengen is a small ski resort in the winter, and a mountain climbing resort in the summer. We spent our sabbatical year (1974-1975) living there in a small chalet, surrounded by majestic snow-capped mountains. There were no cars in those days. Only the main street, lined by attractive stores of all kinds. At the end of this street rises the snow-capped Jungfrau mountain.
Before dinner, Paul and I sat on the tree-lined terrace and had a glass of beer while admiring the magnificent mountain landscape. Paul was very impressed. He said he wants to bring his family here. He has a Chinese wife, a son who is 15, and a daughter, 10. Chalet Much, where we stayed for our sabbatical year in 1974-75, was right there next door to Alpenrose, just as I remembered. It’s almost like coming home. (“Chalet Much” means beloved chalet.)
This “beloved chalet” which housed our family for a year consisted of five rooms: a kitchen, two tiny, Spartan bedrooms, a spacious living/dining area, and a small “study,” where Andrzej was writing his memoirs. The children had to share a bedroom. There was a long tree-lined porch on one side. Magnificent mountain views from all windows! Chalet Much used to be a ski hut for the Imhof family, who lived in Bern. Herr Imhof, a dentist, died when his airplane crashed into the Lake at Zurich. Lucie Imhof was left with three young, fatherless children. She was a delightful landlady and a family friend.
I can see one side of Chalet Much from my window and all of it from the balcony next to my room. I saw a young man entering the house, so it is still in use. I have a nice corner room, with a view in two directions. I am very happy to be here! Paul helped me to call home again this evening. I actually saw Andrzej and Eva very clearly. Andrzej seems to have accepted my leaving. Everything is under control. So far, so good.
Saturday, July 28
Bad weather, overcast, foggy, eventually rain. Pierre Lanz, our guide, who comes from French-speaking Switzerland, but has lived in Wengen for ten years, suggested that we postpone our trip to Schilthorn, the highest peak around here, until tomorrow. So, instead we walked to Staubachbenkli, a 45-minute walk, partly uphill. At Staubachbenkli, they have benches where people sit to enjoy the view of the waterfall coming from the opposite mountain. I made it, walking slowly, but suggested that we come back by taxi, which we did. I did not want to overdo it on the first day.
I loved walking that familiar path, past familiar houses with beautiful red geraniums in the window boxes, past the splashing mountain stream that I remembered so well. Mary’s Café was closed unfortunately, nevertheless we sat on our bench looking at the waterfall, which was much reduced due to lack of rain, and we could see down the whole length of the valley. I said I had been dreaming about Staubachbénkli, which was true. Rain came pelting down, a light rain. Masses of white fog drifted through the valley, filling it up mysteriously.
We had lunch at Eiger Restaurant by the railroad station. Paul and I had Raclette, which is simply roasted cheese, and very popular in Switzerland. Then I had a much-needed nap and I spent the rest of the afternoon resting and reading short stories by de Maupassant.
In the evening, Fritz and Terese Gertsch came for dinner. I was very happy to see them. We had a nice meal with Paul in the hotel dining room. Fritz told me that I should not visit his wife Charlotte, who has become very depressed, because it would be hard for her to try to speak English. I was disappointed, but accepted that. The high point of the evening was after dinner, sitting in the comfortable lounge, when Paul managed to contact Eva and Jan on his cell phone. We saw them very clearly. We all talked to them and to Andrzej, who was sending us kisses. Jan even spoke German to Fritz and Terese, as he used to do in the ’70s, when Fritz was his ski instructor, when he was then 8 years old. I thought it was a miracle to actually see them, having grown up before such devices were available.
Sunday, July 29
This was probably the best day so far. We met our guide, Pierre, at our hotel at 8:00 a.m., took the train down to Lauterbrunnen, then a series of cable cars up to Murren and Schilthorn, known as “Piz Gloria.” I have a vague recollection of having been there long ago with Eva, Jan and Andrzej in the ’70s. We were on the level of the mountain tops: Breithorn, Jungfrau, Munch and Eiger. The white pyramid which I loved so much, Silberhorn, which is part of the famous Jungfrau, was no longer a pyramid from that angle. I found that very disconcerting. It was a beautiful sunny day, lots of people, mostly Asian, packed into the cable cars and roaming around up there. It was like being in another world. Fantastic! At one point, we heard a group of men with an accordionist, all dressed up in embroidered, black outfits, singing and yodeling. They had a long alpenhorn with them, but did not use it when we were there. It was quite a performance. I had a beer, the men had coffee in a slowly revolving restaurant at the very top. We were on the same level as the clouds! We finally came down to the little village of Mürren for a cup of soup and then back by cable car and bus to Lauterbrunnen. Then by train up the mountain to Wengen. An amazing trip!
We got back by 3:30. I had to change clothes as quickly as possible as Eva’s friend, Isabelle Gross was coming to take me to Chalet Domino for tea. She is still living in Bern with her boyfriend and youngest daughter from a former marriage. She teaches school. She was Eva’s special friend from school days. Paul took a walk instead. He loves to walk alone in the woods, having grown up in the countryside outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. (He is originally a Pennsylvanian like me, a Pittsburgher.)
The Grosses were very happy to see me. Isabelle’s brother Adrian was also there. He and his family live in Evanston, Illinois, where he teaches medicine and has his own lab. He married an American girl who he met in Boston.
Mrs. Gross had made a delicious apricot pie for me (Isabelle said she called Eva long distance to ask what I would like to have. Eva probably said, “She likes fruit pies”). We had apple juice, nuts and banana liqueur. Just a cozy little family get-together, to honor me. I was deeply moved, realizing that these people whom we knew in the ’70s, still care about us. They asked about Eva and Jan. Isabelle said she might come to California next spring. She looked very young and happy, though she must be about Eva’s age, mid-50s. All of the Gross family, their children and grandchildren, seem to be thriving. We met Isa’s boyfriend as we were leaving their home, Chalet Domino. Walter, the father, hugged me so vigorously that I lost one earring! Luckily it fell into my purse. Paul met me there and the hotel taxi brought us back to the hotel. We had a nice dinner together. I was upset because Pierre charged me $500 for a day and a half. I did not have that much cash available and he does not take credit cards. But Paul went to an ATM machine and supplied the needed $100, which I will reimburse. Of course I should have asked Pierre beforehand how much he charged for such expeditions. This has been a wonderful, unforgettable day!
Monday, July 30
Another beautiful, sunny day. We are very lucky as it often rains here in the mountains. I could see the reflection of the sunrise on the mountain opposite Wengen, though the sun rises behind Mannlichen, on the other side of the valley. I could hear a tinkling cow bell in the distance.
After breakfast, we left Wengen by train for Lauterbunnen, where the driver who drove us here from Basel met us and drove us by the scenic route to Zurich. It was a beautiful landscape, very green with high mountains, and a number of big lakes, Thunersee, Brienzersee and others. Also, lots of very long, dark tunnels. The trip took about two hours. Here we are now at the beautifully renovated, riverside Storken Hotel that I loved so much. (Storken means stork.) It is almost unrecognizable, full of concierges, porters, etc. No intimate tea-room where I used to sip Harvey’s Bristol Cream Sherry before dinner. So modern that I do not know how to turn the lights on and off in my room, nor the air conditioning. I had to call Paul to help me. It was also much more expensive than the last time I was here with Andrzej two years ago.
Paul and I took a little walk along the Limmat River and had a light lunch, a cold apple soup and the usual beer. Then Paul had some work to do, so I took a long rest. I loved the view from my window! The same view as last time, though one flight up. The flowing river, the cathedral, the Hanseatic houses. Lots of people in the streets and cafes. Beautiful, elegant stores of all kinds. I hear that Zurich is one of the most expensive cities in the world.
Before dinner in the hotel dining room, we took a little stroll in the Old Town; narrow, hilly, cobblestone streets. People sitting outdoors having aperitivos. I had a drink made from limes, mint leaves and rum. Very refreshing, a “Mohito,” something I had never heard of. We ate dinner on the terrace of our hotel. Very fancy and expensive I’m sure. The sun is reflected on the Grossmunster Cathedral and Hanseatic houses. The clouds grow pink, a beautiful view. I love being in Zurich!
Tuesday, July 31
This is our last day in Switzerland. It feels like we just got here. This was a perfect day, except for the heat, which was still in the 90s. We had an especially good breakfast sitting on the balcony of this hotel; cold squeezed orange juice, in tall, slender glasses, with croissants, a block of honey, and ice cold milk.
We took a taxi to the bus stop (40 Euros, close to $50 for a short ride). We boarded a sightseeing bus which took us to various places in Zurich and then to a popular suburb, Rapperswil. I guess most people live in the suburbs and along the banks of the Limmat River. Eventually we left the bus to have a light lunch and return by boat. But the waitress took so much time, that we had to rush out with our salads in doggy bags, uneaten. We just made it.
The boat ride on Lake Zurich was delightful. We traveled first class on the upper deck, mainly sitting outdoors, where it was cool and comfortable. The lake is very long and wide. A few people were swimming in it. There were a few boats. Lots of sailboats in their docks, probably to be used on weekends. It was very peaceful and beautiful. Lots of houses had docks right on the lake. Green hills on both sides and mountains in the distance.
Afterwards, at 3:00 p.m., we arrived at a dock close to our hotel. I would never have found the hotel without Paul. In fact, I cannot imagine making this trip without Paul. He takes care of me. I took a long, much-needed siesta, then we met for aperitivos (Mojitos again) and dinner. We dined at a nearby restaurant recommended to me by Jan’s friend, Herman, who lives with his family in Zurich. He was unfortunately out of town, but spoke to me on the telephone. The restaurant which he recommended was called Zeughauskeller. We sat outdoors and had a very good meal. I had veal in a creamy sauce (Veal a la Crème) and delicious hash brown potatoes. Then a fancy dessert, consisting of strawberry ice cream, whipped cream, and strawberries on top. I had a very nice light, local reisling with the meal, came back to the hotel and packed. We have to leave at 7:30 tomorrow morning to catch the plane to Oslo. Our stay in this lively, elegant and very expensive town has been all too short. We called home again. I saw Andrzej again and talked to Jan, who said everything is going well.
Afterthoughts about Zurich: The impressive Grossmunster Cathedral, which I can see from my balcony, is lit up magnificently at night. Very beautiful, reflected in the moving water of the Limmat River. It chimes at 6:00 p.m. every day. I forgot to mention that there is a group of white swans floating around in the river. Have they been put there as a tourist attraction, or did they just come?
Wednesday, August 1
We again had breakfast on the patio at the Storken Hotel. Then to the airport for a two-hour flight to Oslo by SAS. The business class lunch was especially good, fresh shrimp and other fish in a salad. All presented with fork and knife in a little box.
My nephew Jens Eric met us at the airport. He is now 67 years old, a pensioner. A giant of a man. He and Paul talked about fishing all the way home. Paul is very excited about fishing here in Norway. He later rented a car, found a good place two hours away, and caught five fish, which he threw back into the river. We dropped him off at his downtown hotel. We drove past Bristol Hotel, which is still there, evoking happy memories. We drove down Bogstadveien to Majorstua. I thought of Linny who lived there near the Majorstua Train Station and died of a heart attack on the island of Cyprus last year, at the age of 90. She always invited me to stay with her in her apartment on my previous visits to Oslo. I miss her.
Jens Eric’s house at Hjorungveien is just as I remember it from last time. Very “lived in” and cozy, with lots of art on the walls, including my mosaic. I always recognize the white marbled sculpture of Cupid, that I remember from the elder Bays’ house at Smestad, which is very close to this house. Jens Eric built this house by hand from the remains of another house. Because of that superhuman exertion and all the complications which ensued, he had a stroke at the age of 50, but at 67, he seems very strong and vigorous.
I met his wife, Cecelie, whom I first met years ago. A beautiful, strong, healthy woman, still youthful. I said to Jens Eric she has a special wholesome quality, which American women usually do not have. She teaches classes for caregivers.
We sat in their lovely garden and ate dinner there, a place I remember from my last visit. They have old fruit trees, lots of lettuce and other vegetables growing here and there. Also, herbs, purple petunias and flowering bushes. They make their own preserves from the fruit and Jens Eric bakes his own bread once a week. He baked a sour dough bread while I was there. It was very good. That reminded me of the days long ago when I baked two loaves of bread every Friday; one for my husband, and one for my beloved friend, Carol Anderson. I baked a different kind every Friday. These people are so unsophisticated, so real, and so hospitable! He introduces me to everyone as his aunt, which I am. I remember him and his sister from their early childhood. Cecilie made a very good dinner on the second night as well. As we sat there in the garden eating, I remembered my last visit here a few years ago. They had a big family party in this garden, very festive in the Norwegian twilight. The house is next door to the one in which JensEric and Britt lived with their mother, Marie and lots of Vietnamese orphans, many years ago. I feel very much at home here, even understand quite a bit of Norwegian language. Tomorrow to Drammen with my niece, Britt Bay.
Thursday, August 2
This was a very pleasant day, the second to last one on this trip. Britt Bay picked me up at 10:00 a.m. and drove me to Drammen where she lives, a small city one hour from Oslo. On the way, we stopped by Hovfaret 62, to see if the elder Bay’s house is still there. It is! But someone had built a cottage where the front yard used to be. This was the former house of my parents-in-law, Jens and Ruth Bay. I was very happy to see that house, which I remember so well. There was an acute housing shortage, when Christian and I were there in the early 1950s. We lived with his parents for the first six months or so, when we came to Norway in 1949.
In Drammen we first took a walk in the woods, where Britt and her 80- year-old boyfriend, Jon Arne, always walk with his dog. A beautiful, hilly wooded area. Then we had a light lunch at a restaurant owned by her friends. It got quite chilly and even rained a little. They have not had rain here for three months.
Then she took me to her apartment in a big, modern building. She is on the top floor, with a wonderful view of the fjord. We had cake and tea there. She has inherited the beautiful oak dining table and chairs, which I remember so well from her parents’ home at Smestad; also other family heirlooms from their home. Then she drove me back to Oslo. We had a nice time together.
I took a long rest and then Marit Ofstad’s white-haired, but still good-looking husband, picked me up and drove me to Ekeberg, where I treated them to a very fancy dinner. At Ekeberg, there is a spectacular view of the whole city and fjord. Asmund, her husband, has been very successful as a composer, making musical scores for plays at National Theater. He has begun a new oratorio. They told me about their life in Spain, where they live during the winter months, and have made many friends. They have lived there for many years now. White-haired Marit remembers when I was her babysitter! She remembers that I was wearing a very soft, pink sweater. Her parents, Harold and Erna, were my devoted friends. Both died of Alzheimer’s some years ago. Her brother turned out to be schizophrenic. Gloria, Marit and Asmund’s adopted daughter, originally from Colombia, was wearing the white, ivory necklace which I gave her the last time I was here. A very exotic, dark-skinned, plump young woman who already has a boyfriend. Everyone here seems to have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. Some even get married.
It has been very satisfying for me to be in Oslo again, where most things look very familiar, and I understand a lot of the Norwegian language. It truly feels like a homecoming, among all these old friends who remember me from long ago and love me.
Friday, August 3
My last day in Norway. Since I went to Ekeberg last night with Marit and family, I did not want to go there again today as planned with Solvi and Siri. So, Jens Eric suggested a place closer to home. It is a large farm situated by a beautiful lake, Bogstaddamnen, not far from Hovseter, the place where Christian and I lived in the ’50s. The Bogstad farm is now a restaurant and museum. Jens Eric drove us there and back. On the way back, we drove by Hovseter, another house in which Christian and I lived. It is still standing where it stood. There is now a beauty parlor downstairs where the grocery store used to be. It was the first home of my own.
It was great to see Solvi and Siri again. Solvi is now 82, and going blind. Siri is 91. She came to Oslo from Telemark, which is far away in the mountains, just to spend time with me. She said yesterday she was riding horseback in the mountains (at 91!). They are both widowed, very thin and white-haired, but still spry.
I treated them to a nice light lunch and we sat by the lake for awhile. Jens Eric drove us home. Solvi and Siri remembered how, years ago, I let them stay in my apartment in San Francisco, while Andrzej and I stayed in a motel. I told them, “At 93, I don’t do that anymore.”
After they left to go home, I took a long rest then had another delicious dinner in the garden with JensEric and Cecilia. I have felt very comfortable here in their home. I think they really know how to enjoy life in an old-fashioned, relaxed way.
Tomorrow at 6:45 a.m., we leave for the airport. Paul will join us. Afterwards, Jens Eric, Cecilie and their old, friendly dog, Kaisa, will proceed to Roa, their weekend cottage. They go kayaking and swimming in a nearby lake. I remember many happy times staying at that cottage in Roa back in the ’50s, with friends from the institute where we all worked. I wish I could go with them to Roa.
It has been a very good trip, a real holiday for me. Everything has worked out just as I hoped it would. I feel very rested and content. Hard to believe that at this time tomorrow evening, I will be at home in Davis.
Saturday, August 4
After a 12-hour trip, which included changing planes in Zurich, we landed in San Francisco Airport. Our driver was there to take us to Davis. Susan is here to meet us, and Dad, who was at first not happy to see me, but soon overcame that. It felt good to be home again.
Home is the sailor,
Home from the sea.
And the hunter
Home from the hill
—Robert Browning