In Pursuit of Castles and Dreams

My daytime dreams of a trip to Europe were hampered by child-rearing responsibilities and lack of money. I remember when my neighbor went to Germany while I stayed home nursing a child. I consoled myself that "it was not my turn."

Then our daughter decided to spend the second half of her junior year of college in Belgium, and was eager for us to travel with her during her spring break. My husband has a soft spot where his children are concerned: he may sound tough but if one of them wants him to do something, he usually finds a way to work it out.

Then my nighttime dreams took on a nightmarish reality. For a while it looked like Michelle would not be able to obtain the necessary student visa required for a student stay of over three months. Our own trip to visit her therefore hung in question, but she ended up getting everything in place about one week before her departure.

Then, two weeks after she arrived in Belgium, she went on a weekend trip to Amsterdam. Her passport and hard-won visa were promptly lifted out of her backpack! She was devastated. To her credit, she managed to do all of the paperwork necessary for reacquiring a passport and temporary Belgium residency card. So off we went to visit her and five countries in ten days by rental car.

We had a fascinating time exploring World War I and II historical sites in Belgium, Luxembourg and France, and castles in Switzerland and along the Rhine and Nectar Rivers in Germany. I took in the thick walls, towering battlements, abandoned spinning wheels, and large iron kettles in fireplaces, wrought iron candelabra.

The pursuit of castles also took us off the beaten track into backcountry Europe. We marveled at vast vineyards with staked metal trellises going straight up hillsides. How hard would it be to hand-prune all those vines? We were intrigued by little gardens on the outskirts of French or German cities. It appeared that even urban dwellers valued garden-fresh vegetables. On the many bike and walking trails between cities, people could be seen biking, walking, or exercising the family dog.

Our trip home was quite an adventure (see another column on lost luggage and delays) so when we finally got home we were mostly just grateful that our daughters (who had stayed home) were safe and sound, and those we were safe too.

That first night home I stumbled to the bathroom in the middle of the night in the mind-fogged stupor of jet lag. It was like I was half in a dream, half in reality. In my stupor the windows looked like the huge windows in a castle wall, the doors equally vast and imposing; the four posts on our bed (only about 4 feet high in real life) loomed like high posts on an old fashioned bed in a castle.

The walls seemed thick and dark, and with a start I really thought I was in a castle. This continued until I turned the light on, and saw that the castle was actually my home-or my home was my castle, if you will. Even in that jet lag haze (or maybe because of it) the truth struck me that no one has to go to Europe in pursuit of castles and the fairy tale life: it is right in your hands if you grasp it.

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Contributed by Melodie Davis from her weekly columnANOTHER WAY (http://www.thirdway.com/aw/).For information on using Another Way in a local newspaper, contact:ANOTHER WAY, 1251 Virginia Ave., Harrisonburg, VA 22801-2497; or call1-800-999-3534; fax at 540-434-5556; or email me at:Melodie@mennomedia.org