Sorry for going backward in time a little, but I wanted to share some more street scenes from Berlin that didn’t make it into other videos.
One of the scenes shows a sculpture of Ampelmännchen, literally “little traffic light man.” Designed and used in East Germany, this was one of the few elements of East Germany that found some favor in the unified country. The symbol has become a popular souvenir in various forms — on cups, shirts, magnets, etc. — and is used in many parts of Germany. There are three options available — Ampelmännchen, the old West German option, and a pan-German option introduced in 1992. Each German state can choose which option to use.
I mentioned how prevalent bicycle travel was in Berlin and how much it was supported. I don’t recall any sidewalk in the city that didn’t provide a distinct bike path. But something else also stood out. Most bicycle riders did not wear helmets. Even kids. It was almost rare to see riders with helmets. You’ll see evidence of this in a couple of scenes in these videos.
We were to leave Berlin on the morning of 28 June. It was to be the reverse of our itinerary 16 days earlier — Berlin to Dublin, Dublin to Boston on Aer Lingus.
We took a cab to Tegel Airport and quickly checked in at Aer Lingus. Piece of cake. We got into the security line at about 8:15. Plenty of time for our 10:45 departure.
In line for security check
More than 90 minutes later, as we started finally to approach the security area, I noticed people coming up to those ahead of us, chatting, and then joining the line. I also noticed a group of about a dozen guys who looked like they were part of an athletic team just cutting in. By the time we reached the area that had barriers, I counted about 50 people who had somehow gotten into line ahead of us. We boarded our flight soon after getting to the gate. Glad we left early for the airport!
We had a somewhat long layover — 4 hours, 10 minutes — scheduled for Dublin. I had noticed Aer Lingus did not use the international terminal at Logan Airport in Boston, so I figured we would go through U.S. customs in some fashion in Dublin. We did. I had prepared all sorts of information about what we had bought, its value, etc., figuring we would have to fill out a form. Nope. Julia and I went through customs in adjacent lines.
When I approached the customs officer, and after she looked at my passport, she asked, “Where do you live?” Uhhhhhhh. I just did not expect that question. Somewhat stammering, I said, “Fall . . . brook . . . California.” She asked if I was traveling with anyone. I said, “My daughter” and started to point her out in the adjacent line, but Julia had already gone through the line. I looked around for her, puzzled. I’m sure the customs officer was beginning to wonder about this old guy in front of her.
She showed me a somewhat fuzzy picture on her computer screen of what looked like my luggage. She asked if this appeared to be luggage with which I was connected. I hesitantly said, “I believe so.” “Where did you visit in Europe?” “Berlin and Lithuania.” “What did you buy?” “Uh, amber . . . teeshirts . . . souvenirs.” “Thank you, Mr. McDonald.” “What?” “You can go now.”
Julia had been asked only where she lived.
Lunchtime. I was finally able to sit and enjoy some Guinnesses, along with enjoying overheard chatting between two Irish biddies, talking rather sharply about various members of their families.
Below is brief video (0:26) of our departure from Dublin, with a view of the east coast of Ireland.
The Atlantic crossing, heading west, took a little longer than the opposite route. We were back on an Airbus 330 and again enjoyed a meal — pasta.
Flying over Newfoundland, Canada, we saw it still had some snow in late June.
We landed in Boston about 6:30 pm. Took Lyft to the home of friend Margaret Evans in Brookline. It had been a long day. With the six-hour time difference between Berlin and Boston, our body clocks were at something like 1:30 am while we chatted with Margaret. Sleep that night was easy and deep. Nice to be back. It was already less stressful, able to read signage and be familiar with surroundings.
On our last full day in Berlin, 27 June, we looked, as we had done in Lithuania, to get gifts to bring home. That evening, we celebrated a special birthday with new friends.
Julia and I first split up to do shopping, and I headed to the Porsche Zentrum. I was looking for a gift from Porsche that would be perhaps Germany-only for my son-in-law, and Isabel’s son, Lars, had suggested this location. (My son-in-law had just started working for Charlie’s Foreign Car in Encinitas, which focuses on German cars.)
Porsche’s headquarters are in Stuttgart, but it and other German automakers have zentren (centers) in Berlin, most of them in the same general area, in Charlottenburg along the Franklinstraße. Here’s a gallery of some of them.
I also went by a building with a sign saying “talk about race.” Wow, was it a “woke” organization working to foster conversation about an important issue in Germany? Wondered for maybe a second. Then remembered where I was . . . in the middle of automobile companies. “Race” meant “racing.”
The Porsche Zentrum offered displays of cars and a small section called “Drivers’ Selections” containing hats, shirts, key fobs, etc. I was able to get my son-in-law a Porsche Motorsports shirt. In the process of buying the shirt, I had to sign a form acknowledging that I had received the item. The sales clerk then stamped the form with two different stamps. Then there was a second transaction charging my debit card. It all seemed somehow “German.” Here’s a gallery of cars on display and other scenes of the zentrum.
We also spent time on Kurfürstendamm, the street just north of our hotel. It’s one of the premier shopping areas in Berlin. I mean, the Apple Store is there, for crying out loud. 🙂 Here’s a gallery of some of the stores there.
One building on the street was especially interesting to me, a resident of California. Here’s the Berlin version of Hotel California. You can tell by the ersatz palm trees.
In addition to the high-end shopping opportunities, there were also a ton of souvenir shops, including one that offered a new use of the iconic Trabant.
That evening, our last in Berlin, we had been invited to join a group at the Café am Neuen See, a classic biergarten on the “new lake” in Tiergarten. The reason: Julia’s 30th birthday. Our hosts were Michael and Connie Günther, as well as Isabel Traenckner-Probst and her son, Lars. (Lars, 17, had just returned to Berlin from competing in the national four-man, under 19, rowing competition. His team finished second, in a photo finish. His pride at the accomplishment was diminished greatly by the close loss. If his team had won, they would have competed in the world under-19 championships in Japan.)
From left: Michael Günther, Julia, me, Isabel Traenckner-Probst, Lars Probst, and Connie Günther.
We enjoyed traditional beer garden fare and the company of friends so far away. It was a great way to end our trip.
We had talked earlier with Michael and Connie about the television series Berlin Babylon, a “neo-noir” crime series set in Berlin in 1929, during the Weimar Republic. The series debuted in Germany on the Sky network in October 2017 and in the U.S. on Netflix in January 2018. The show is based on the first in a series of four books by German author Volker Kutscher, which depict Germany 1929-31. Michael and Connie gave Julia those four books for her birthday.
We arrived back in Berlin mid-afternoon on 26 June, reportedly the hottest day ever recorded in Germany. The temperature in Berlin hit 98°F, I believe, and it was steamy as well.
Nice cab
It was nice that our taxi from the airport was, for the first time for me, a Mercedes-Benz. Negating that, however, was my miscalculation in getting out at the “corner” of our street, Fasanenstraße, because of heavy traffic, and forgetting it was a long street. Julia and I had to push/pull our luggage for several blocks in high temps.
We were back to the Hotel-Pension Funk. Julia had the same room as she did before, but I was no longer in the “penthouse.” My room was smaller and shared bathroom facilities. Still, it was nice to be back somewhere familiar.
My “regular” room
That extended to dinner, as we returned to the Literature House and its restaurant, Wintergarten. Here’s Julia at our table, with each of us back at the French sardines.
Walking back to the hotel, we came across this rather ornate entrance way.
Our last day in Lithuania was 26 June. The morning was spent wandering a little, packing, etc. Walked by the Church of St. Anne, one of Old Town’s best examples of Gothic architecture, built originally in 1495-1500.
Church of St. Anne, Vilnius
Also found an interesting, subtle example of civic fountain.
At lunch, we had a visitor which seemed much accustomed to its purpose.
Finally, on to the airport.
There, we visited the duty-free section. Here’s a gallery of photos.
Another collection of images that didn’t quite fit into other posts.
Food/beverage items
A Dutch product. Eitjes means “eggs.”
Not sure how you pronounce Pienas (milk) in Lithuanian.
This sign was in airport. There were also signs extolling Lithuania’s robust wi-fi network. One said something on the order of “Italy is proud of its ancient ruins. Lithuania is proud of its high-speed wi-fi. Enjoy our resource!”
The rental VW Golf gave this view when you put it in reverse.
Except for two nights spent in Juodkrantė on the Curonian Spit, our Lithuanian base was a two-bedroom apartment on Pilies Gatve (Castle Street), described by the Vilnius tourism site as “the oldest and most flamboyant street in Old Town.”
Great location, great accommodations. And for €350 for the week!
The bathroom arrangement was interesting. One room contained the toilet and sink; another provided a sink and bath/shower.
Access to the apartment by car was slightly tricky. The entrance to an adjacent courtyard was through a very narrow opening. Once there, you could open the gate to “our” courtyard with a remote. Again, very narrow openings. The rental VW Golf had proximity alarms. They pretty much screamed throughout the process. They were turned off for this video (1:34) showing both pedestrian and auto access.
Our last full day in Lithuania, 25 June, was spent back in Old Town Vilnius. Some additional sightseeing and gift-seeking.
Amber
A mandatory souvenir/gift was Baltic amber. “Amber” is ubiquitous in Old Town stores, but, as with “pieces of the Berlin Wall” at Checkpoint Charlie, their provenance is dubious. I certainly would not be able to discern true amber from colored glass.
Photo by Amber Museum-Gallery.
We decided to check out the Amber Museum-Gallery, which certifies each piece of amber in its collections. They did not permit photos or video in their gallery, but we visited their museum on a lower level of the building.
Kitty in courtyard
Located in a baroque-style house from the 17th century, the museum-gallery describes moving from the showroom on street level to the museum as transiting from the 21st century to surroundings of the 17th century and then to a “cultural layer” of the 14th-15th centuries.
A major part of the museum exhibit is a reconstruction of the “Treasure of Juodkrantė,” described as “the biggest archaeological amber collection in the world,” collected in the mid-19th century in the Curonian Spit town in which we had earlier spent a few days.
Amber, we learned, is not a stone, not a mineral. It is fossilized tree resin, which can burn and hold an electric charge. The Baltic states and nearby are major sources of amber. Most commonly yellowish-orange in color, amber can be found in a wide range of colors, including red, greenish, bluish, and even black. A small portion of amber contains insects or plant life trapped as the amber was formed.
One piece on display in the showroom was a masted sailing ship, more than a yard long and almost as tall, made up of large and small pieces of amber. I asked a sales clerk if it had a price. He chuckled and said, “Just think of what a top-level Mercedes might cost.”
We ended up with several much less expensive items . . . and some video (1:45).
Nearby was the Church of St. Anne, originally built in 1495-1500 and considered one of the best examples of Gothic architecture in Old Town.
Church of St. Anne, Vilnius
Gediminas’ Tower
Tower stairway
This tower is what remains of the Upper Castle in Vilnius. It provides the highest place from which to view the city, especially Old Town below.
Besides the view, the tower offers historic information and artifacts. It is a subdivision of the nearby National Museum. Access is by stairs or funicular railway. We rode. On one floor of the tower, excellent multimedia presentations provide images and history of the tower and surrounding area. A short segment of one is in the video (2:53).
National Museum
Okay, Lithuania’s National Museum is somewhat modest. Its displays represent the history of Lithuania, as well as traditional Lithuanian culture and customs. Here is video (2:40).
Trakai Historical National Park, less than 20 miles west of Vilnius, features several lakes, Trakai Island Castle (above), and other historic monuments. The setting is fairy-tale-like and the park is a major tourist area.
Julia and I stopped in Trakai on our way back from Zervynos on 24 June.
The castle was started in the 14th century, but suffered major damage in an attack by Teutonic Knights in 1377. Over the centuries, it fell into disrepair and was not reconstructed, this time in 15th century style, until 1961.
Up until shortly before our trip to Europe, we had no knowledge of where specifically in Lithuania my maternal grandparents had lived before they left more than a century ago to come to the United States. Then I found the Lithuanian Global Genealogical Society group page on Facebook.
I submitted to the group a picture of my grandparents’ marriage license, which listed the names of each of their parents. Within a couple of days, one of the group members sent me a response noting that my grandmother’s parents’ names were listed among those buried in the cemetery in Zervynos.
Wow. I was totally unfamiliar with Zervynos, but we now had a place that deserved a visit. We drove there on 24 June.
Zervynos is an “ethnographic village” located within the Dzūjika National Park, about 60 miles southwest of Vilnius and close to the border with Belarus. It was first mentioned in writing in 1742, but campsites dating from the Stone and Iron ages have been found there. As you’ll see in the video, the proximate road to Zervynos was quite narrow and ran through dense forest. The village’s isolation helped preserve its character.
In the village, the roads are unpaved and there is no running water. Electricity is a recent addition. There are 48 homesteads in the village, most of which are official ethnographic monuments. Fewer than 100 people reside there. Many visitors during the summer are kayakers on the River Ūla, which runs through the village, who stop for a look.
As soon as we entered the village, we saw the village cemetery. It’s not expansive and it took only a few minutes to find two graves with a marker behind them carrying names matching those on my grandmother’s marriage license. Buried there were Vincentas and Cicilija (Jankevičiūtė) Tamulevicius. We had found an earlier generation of our family.
Julia at graveside of great-great-grandparents
Here’s video (2:59)
Are these graves proof these are my great-grandparents? Not absolutely, but they are really good evidence. Each of their birth years put them at appropriate ages to be parents of my grandmother and it seems it would be unlikely for another couple with these names and dates to exist. I’m very willing to believe the graves we saw are those of my great-grandparents and that my grandmother grew up in this village or nearby.
(Other people in the Lithuanian Global Genealogical Society mentioned that people with the same surname as my grandfather — Kašėta — lived in nearby communities. One is mayor of the local municipality district. I plan to follow up on this information. Probable more credence that Vincentas and Cecilia were my great-grandparents and it could be the basis for another trip.)
I found it especially moving to be in Zervynos with my daughter. That generational thing again. I also found it very poignant to look at the River Ūla and imagine my grandmother as a young girl playing along its banks.
This was such an unanticipated and welcome facet of our visit to Lithuania.
One of the scenes shows a sculpture of Ampelmännchen, literally “little traffic light man.” Designed and used in East Germany, this was one of the few elements of East Germany that found some favor in the unified country. The symbol has become a popular souvenir in various forms — on cups, shirts, magnets, etc. — and is used in many parts of Germany. There are three options available — Ampelmännchen, the old West German option, and a pan-German option introduced in 1992. Each German state can choose which option to use.
