Author Archives: thesouplady2

Exploring the byways of Sutton Courtenay


The village of barely 3500 souls that my daughter’s in-laws call home is a place with a very ancient history. Today we ate lunch at a pub that traces it’s history back to the 18th century – and it was built on a bridge over the river Thames that dates from the 1600’s!

According to Craig – this bridge was a source of much conflict – and at one point the Abbey in Sutton Courtenay errected a Toll Bridge. The villagers retailiated by diverting the river, and building another bridge. I’m thinking “Pillars of the Earth” meets “Harry Potter”.

Speaking of meeting Harry Potter – it turns out that Bellatrix Lestrange has a house in Sutton Courtenay. At least the actress that plays her in the movies does. Her (great?) grandfather was the First Earl of Oxford – and at one point he owned a good part of the village. She still owns – and occasionally stays in – one of the larger homes bordering right on the Thames.

There are other exciting sites to see in Sutton Courtenay – it’s not just about the Thames. There’s the Medieval Abbey, the WWII pill box – built as a defense position against the Germans, the Norman period church where we sang Christmas Carols, the homes built with lumber from ships that fought in the Spanish Armada and were defeated, the old prision in process of gentrification (they are building condos – surprise, surprise) – and there are 3 pubs. Those are seriously the hightlight of the village – I loved the look of the gastro-pub called “The Fish”, but when it came to lunch we left the village and headed to the next town for lunch at “The Nag’s Head”. I opted for fish and chips – when in England – do as the English do I say! I wanted to get a beer – but picking one from the over a dozen on tap proved daunting. The first one they drew – “Goldie” was too bitter for me – as were the next 5, including a cider. I finally tried the “Tiger” – which my hosts refered to as “not a beer” – but I was happy.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. After a quick – everyone grab what they want – breakfast, Craig, Charlotte, Adrienne and I opted to take the village walk. This was a wonderful public path that leads over bridges and past bits and pieces of the Thames in a loop. There were Swans and ducks in the ponds we strolled past – and a solid collection of different dogs.

We eventually wandered our way past the remains of an old mill, past a series of adorable shop fronts that are now private homes (Gentrification at work), and both the Norman Church and the Medieval Abbey. Neighbors greeted neighbors, some young girls rode by on horseback, and we saw several MG Sprites. All together it was a very British walk, in a very British village. Totally Charming.

On call for tonight is a cold dinner of left-overs (finally), a board game – and fireworks. Turns out that fireworks are only legal in Great Britian on Guy Fawes Day – and Christmas. Guess the 4th of July isn’t much of a holiday here – win some, lose some.
Signing off for now

The Soup Lady – reporting from Sutton Courtenay (If you can spell it – you can find it on a map!)

A Traditional British Christmas


My daughter married a Brit – one whose family traces their lineage back several hundred years – so when they invited me to come and spend Christmas with them – I of course said Yes.

My daughter’s inlaws live in the tiny village of Sutton Courtenay. It’s is an hours fast train ride from Paddington station – but a universe away from the hustle bustle of London.

The village is very famous – Hubert Asquith, First Earl of Oxford, and one of the British Prime Ministers from before World War I was born and is buried here – as is George Orwell – who I must say I know better! But I’m not really here to see the sights – I’m here to eat – and eat extremely well I must say.

My Daughter’s In-Laws – who to save on typing we say call Jan and Craig – (which are their names…) do not live on an estate – and there’s nary a servant to be seen in the house – but never-the-less – they have gone all out to make sure that we have an amazing Christmas.

They picked us up at the Train Station – all smiles and Christmas cheer – and we drive thru the village admiring the lovely homes, stone fences, and what I’m now realizing are traditionally tiny roads. Their lovely home has at least 5 bedrooms up stairs – and 3 bathrooms. Downstairs there’s a kitchen, a lovely dining room with wood side-boards, a prep-kitchen with the dishwasher, a sun room that is serving as a 6th bedroom – and a living room/den with the TV – Wii machine – several sofas, and a warming gas fire. The garden is truly lovely – which despite the weather is so so pretty. It’s large enough to be divided into sections – a pool/meadow area, a graveled sitting area – and for my taste – an extremely large area of raised garden for growing vegetables.

From the front – you wouldn’t expect them to have such a spacious backyard – because their neighbors are very close – but the lots must be angled – because the backyard is quite a bit wider in the back than it is nearer the house. Behind the stone wall that marks the end of their garden is a public walking path – but because it is sunk about 2′ below the level of their garden – you don’t even see the tops of people’s heads.

I’m shown to my room – not fancy by any standard – but very comfortable. I’m sharing the bathroom with Thomas – the adorable 4 year old son of my daughter’s husband’s brother. We will be 9 this Christmas – 2 under the age of 4 (both the children of Jamin’s brother), Jamin’s brother and his wife, Jan and Craig, Adrienne and Jamin – and of course me. An odd woman at the table – but fortunately they don’t feel the need to bring in an additional male to balance!

Christmas Eve begins with a fabulous Norweign Christmas Dinner. Jamin’s brother married Charlotte, a gal from Norway – and they are doing all the cooking tonight. The table is lovely – a christmas centerpiece with candles and the placemats also have a Christmas Theme. They have 2 large warming boards – so the food is carefully being kept hot while drinks and seats are organized.

The meal is stellar. I love, love, love the very traditional preperation of Pork Belly. Charlotte went to the butcher to explain the unique cut required – and the effort definitely paid off. Tons of meat – and the fat has been crisped. The dish is called “Ribbe” – and trust me – it’s yummy.

There are an assortment of other dishes as well – Broccoli, fat fresh sausages that were brought here from Norway in Charolette’s suitcase, meat pies that were similarly imported, and a divine take on cranberry jelly called “Tyttebaer”. Yummy.

After dinner, we put on our winter jackets and grab long traditional torches. There’s a torch light parade tonight – starting at the school and gathering walkers as it goes to the church. We join about 1/3 of the way – lighting our torches from the torches of other marchers. At the church, they have built a bonfire, and they are handing out sheets of Carols. We join in with the several hundred other celebrants – sing heartily – and enjoy listening to the very ampped piano player! Of course the church choir is there – and often they can be heard over the crowd doing the descants.

Lovely.

We walk back home – tired, full – and ready for bed. Unfortunately – it’s only 7:30! There are no street lights in Sutton Courteney – and the sun sets early so it feels quite late. We sip tea, chat, and wait for the kids to call it a night. Then the serious work of present wrapping and placing under the tree begins. There are a zillion gifts! Thomas and Craig both have late December birthdays – so this is a combination party – and the number of gifts reflects that double holiday.

Besides – 9 people, if each person bought one gift for the other 8, that’s 72 gifts.

The tree is placed strategically about 2 feet off the ground (Thomas’s younger brother is 10 months old – and he is definitely in the pulling things off if he can stage). The presents form a mound under the tree – every 4 year old’s idea of the perfect Christmas.

In preperation for the arrival of Santa – tradition says that a glass of sherry and a mince pie should be placed by the fireplace. We forego that tradition – but it might be the only one that gets skipped!

We head off for bed – little kids get up early – and Christmas Day promises to start early and last late!

I’m woken up at 7:02 AM by squeals of delight – Thomas has seen the tree and gifts – and there’s no point trying to pretend to sleep in! I hustle downstairs – but things are well in hand. He’s allowed to pick one gift – the rest must wait until everyone else is up and about.

But first he wants to examine his Christmas Stocking. Like all the other members of the family – hanging at the end of his bed this morning was a huge Christmas Stocking. And this is not a tiny thing – nor a store bought packaged delight – nope – this is a huge sock carefully decorated, and lovingly stored year after year. The contents vary – Thomas gets some toys to play with, his younger brother gets two ‘duplo’ trucks, my daughter gets the calming tea she craves. And everyone gets a clemintine and a walnut!

Breakfast isn’t fancy – the big meal will be Christmas lunch. Eventually everyone has gotten up, had coffee or orange juice as best appeals to them – and we’re ready to open the gifts. Thomas takes a great delight in picking out the order in which gifts are to be opened – a bit heavy handedly picking ones with his name of course. But soon the pile of gifts has been descimated – and we are left with gifts galore for everyone. Thomas plays with his favorites – toys featuring the Octonauts. Daniel (10 months old remember) – is thrilled with the boxes – and anything his big brother is playing with!

I’m pleased with my gifts – a book I’ve never read called ‘Magician’, a box of bath salts – and best of all – a box of Rasberry Preserves from England Perserves. They have an Arch behind my daughters – and they make the best Rasberry Preserves I’ve ever enjoyed.

Lunch is eventually annouced – and what a lovely lunch it is.

Prize of place is a roast Goose – and it is awesome. The skin wonderfully crispy, the meat juicy and rich. There’s several popper’s at each place setting – plus a large Christmas Cracker. We begin by pulling our poppers and Crackers – sending jets of bright ribbon everywhere. Food is again kept warm on the side boards – there are carrots and brussel sprouts, roasted potatoes, peas, pigs in blankets (sausages wrapped in bacon), two different kinds of stuffing, and a fab gravy for the goose. Plates are heaped up for serious feasting – and the conversation is lively and laugh filled as we read the silly jokes in the crackers to each other.

After dinner there’s the traditional lounging time – which we spend playing board games, watching Thomas enjoy his toys, and racing Mario Kart on the Wii. The fire is lit – our tummys are full. It’s lovely.

There’s still another meal to go – after the kids are asleep – there are cold treats to enjoy – mince pies, fresh veggies of various kinds, nuts to crack – and some glorious cheese brought from London by my daughter. My contribution was to pay for the cheese – and to buy a loaf of fresh bread from the Little Bread Peddler who shares one of the Arches near Adriennes. There are 3 different desserts – all traditional Christmas treats. There’s a light and fluffy home-made Pavlova, a home-made Triffle, and two kinds of Mince pies. The Triffle is actually made with fruit grown in their garden last summer. My personal favorite has to be the Pavlova – but of course I had to try all three.

More conversation, more laughter – and time for bed.

Wonderful Christmas!

Signing off – The Soup Lady

Pity the Lady in the Market Stall


My daughter is a chef – after 16 years of working in kitchens and selling cheese in Toronto, Kingston, Boston, New Orleans, London – and learning to take a pig from pig to sausage in the middle of all that – she decided that London needed British style air cured sausages. High end, gloriously artisinal sausages that would uniquely reflect the heritage and personality of Great Britian!

Here is her description of herself from her website at http://www.Curedmeats.london

Our Managing Director, Pork Whisperer and Fearless Heroine is Adrienne Eiser Treeby. Guided by her commitment to good food and good ethics Adrienne has been in turns a Chef, an Apprentice and a Cheesemonger. After putting in fourteen years working behind the stoves at some of the world’s most prestigious restaurants (in three different countries, no less!), two years learning how to make cured meats at the knee of a Master Salumiere and a further two years getting to know the artisanal London food scene with Neal’s Yard Dairy, we’re pretty glad to have her at the helm.

And at the helm she most certainly is! The helm, the butcher tables, the accounting desk, AP, AR, and saleswoman. Plus she’s running market stalls at various markets around London – getting her fabulous sausages known in the world.

Or as I told one customer – making sure they all go to good homes.

So – what am I doing in a market stall? Ah – that’s an interesting story.

The Market culture in London is quite remarkable. There are markets – groups of vendors under canvas tents with portable tables and displays – all over London. They pop-up in the morning, run until around 3:00 PM on average – and then disapear without a trace by 4:00 PM. Depending on the market – they can be daily, weekly, monthly – or apparently totally at random. The unifying idea is that the vendors pay the organizers to be at the market, and folks local to that location come to buy their groceries at these markets. This is in addition to shopping at the local grocery store of course.

One immediately wonders if the abundance of grocery stores is going to impact this scene any time soon – or is the clearly thriving market scene taking business away from the grocery stores? The interesting thing – the grocery stores and even some ‘fast-food restaurants’ are moving more and more toward pre-packged, clarly labeled food items, while the market scene is completely different. There is little in the way of packaging – and labels are few and far between. At the markets – ones sells on taste.

Which brings me to my job – “Want to taste my daugher’s Sausage?” or the less rude alternative – “Want to taste the suasuage my daughter makes in South London?”
So – for the past 14 days – straight – I’ve been standing in front of a glorious display of my daughter’s suasuages – and some of the wonderful similarly artistian meats her friends have ‘cooked’ up – asking folks to take a taste. The good news – once they taste – they generally buy. The bad news – at some markets – the Fenchurch station is a great example – the regjection rate “Nope – don’t want to taste” is horridly high.

It makes for a long hard day.

I guess it’s better for them not to taste if they would never want to buy under any circumstances – but after a few hundred rejections – I’m hard put to stay smily!

But – I shoulder on.

It’s a job – someone has to do it.

“Want to taste my dauther’s sausages?”

Signing off for now – the Soup Lady.

Winners and Losers in the Czech Republic


Two Hotels, Two nights each – a world apart.

Hotel #1 – the Belcardi. Located in Brno, Czech Republic – this should have been a contender. It’s located in a Chateau that dates from 1631 – Napoleon’s sister stayed here for 2 years with her daughter, and it features – according to the guide book – fabulous gardens.

Officially – it’s completely renovated and restored – unfortunately in a graceless style that speecks to the Communist side of the Czech mentality. It more resembles an updated monestary than a fancy hotel. Its not that the place in unkempt – in fact it’s quite clean, and obviously cared for. The issue goes deeper than physical plant – it’s staff, it’s a lack of understanding the difference between clean and neat, and bare and boring. At the Belcardi – they are erring on the side of boring.

Our deluxe double room with balcony did indeed have an ensuite bathroom, a comfortable king bed, and a balcony. Albeit that the balcony was only the width of the door that open out onto it – and about 2 feet deep – still, I’ll agree, there was a balcony. And they carefully provided a desk. No electrical outlits, no lamp, no phone – but there was a desk. To plug in our cell phones we had to crawl under said desk and use a plug there.

The bathroom was remarkable for the lack of place to put anything – including towels! There was a European style heated towel rack – on the far side of the room from the shower, so if you wanted a towel for your shower – you had no choice but to hang the towel off the shower door. The shower itself was one of those stick in a corner, already built items – Basic shower facility in other words. On the good news side – it did offer seriously hot water – scaulding in fact.

The sink was one of the porcelin stand ones – no place to put your toothbrush unless you removed their soap tray – and where to put that then? Annoyingly, the toilet required 2 pushes to operate – one to get the water started, and one to stop the water.

Breakfast was easily the highlight of the place. It was free, it was ample, and there was a machine for making Latte and Expresso. If you wanted plain coffee – there was a nice thermos full on a different table. There was an assortment of pastry, cereals, yougurts, fruit, seriously delicous scrambled eggs (that’s actually hard to do in a serve-yourself orientation), a variety of different types of bread, sausages, and some cut up veggies – tomatoes, onions and red, yellow and green peppers. It was a great breakfast.

I just wish the staff I ran into were as welcoming. I saw a maid just once, she ducked her head as if embarassed and hustled on her way. The only staff I saw consistently were hidden behind the large, tall, and extremely forbidding front desk. In the 2 days we stayed – going in and out at least a dozen times all told – here’s what they never did:

Offer to help us with our luggage.
Smile
Say more than ‘hi’
Respond to questions with more than a single word.
Offer any information – in any language – or even on a piece of paper. They did hand me a wonderful history of the Castle, in English – but only after I asked mutliple questions – the place is famous after all.

In summary – a Loser. Cold, forbidding, unwelcoming, unpleasant, basic needs meet – but nothing beyond. For a place this famous – some art on the walls, some signs of humanity, even an occasional throw rug would have gone a long way towards making the Hotel Belcardi a place I’d suggest to a friend.

But there was a Winner too! Dvur Hoffmeister is located about 10 minutes from the Prague Airport – and we only stayed there because we wanted to be able to sleep after travelling for 10 hours from Montreal, and didn’t want to be disturbed by the noise of the airport.

What a wonderful surprise. The Dvur Offmeister is a tiny – 7 room – Pensionne with a bar and restaurant, attached to a huge Horse training center. Huge not only in size – but in size of the horses. This Center is the one of the homes of the Czech National Jumping School – and it had 4 huge arenas, stable space for 42 horses and ponies, a Horse Washing Station – and a Horse Gym. There were outdoor fenced off paddock areas for summer use, but in winter there are 4 Stable areas for Horses and Ponies. Like all stables I’ve ever seen – there is a center hall with stalls on either side. The stalls have gates into the center for moving the horses in and out – but in the case of the Hoffmeister Stables – they have been one huge improvement. Each stall also has a window to the outside! When the weather was sunny – or there was action on the courtyard – the horses would all poke their heads out to get a peak.

What really makes the Dvur Hoffmeister a Winner though is the warmth and good feeling that radiates from the front desk, thru the halls into the rooms. There is art everywhere – apparently the Grand-father of the current owners was a Surrealistic painter – and he collected work from all his friends. There is a completely amazing amount of top drawer art work on display. The ‘surreastic’ motif extends into the lovely dinning area – a brick walled, arch coved space with wide spread tables – and almost comfortable chairs!

Our first night there we did run into a problem – and how the staff handled the problem would make a great episode on “Hotel Impossible”. First off – I arrived feeling really terrible. I hate those long flights – and for some reason the flight from Frankfurt to Prague just wiped me out. I could barely stand up.

We found the place – and the staff member on duty took one look at me and said – I’ll get you a room right now – we’ll discuss where you’ll stay later. They brought me into a gloriously huge suite – 4 poster king bed, glorious art, huge bathroom – and let me sleep. Victor – despite his protests to the contrary – also fell asleep. Several hours later – much recovered – we arose to discuss options with the host.

The problem – a fairly large – 30 person – company party was scheduled in the restuarant and the bar that night – including a DJ scheduled to play until 2:00 AM. Our glorious suite was right over the bar, and they were pretty sure we didn’t want to try to sleep there. We agreed – and chaned rooms.

They moved us into a room over one of the 3 stable areas. It too had lovely art, a huge bathroom (with a whirlpool tub), but no 4 poster bed. That said – it was quiet, and there was plenty of room for our stuff – and when re-enacting – you have stuff. So we dragged out suitcases out of the lovely suite, and up a metal staircase to our room in the stable. We were so happy.

The tiny village hosts another restuarant – but we were so impressed with how we’d been treated – we wanted to give the Dvur Hoffmeister our business – so we asked – what do we do for dinner. They offered us two choices. We could get dinner served in our room – or we could eat in the bar area – while the DJ was doing his set-up. We opted for the bar – and we had a fab meal – pleasant company – and got to see a bit of the party as it warmed up in the main dining room.

Then to bed – the next day we were travelling on to the site of the re-enactment. But breakfast first of course.

Like the Belcardi – breakfast was included – and what a difference. No machine for making coffee – nope – our lovely hostess – who had gotten to bed at 3:00 after the party ended – was there to make us expresso or Lattes with a proper expresso machine – and cook us eggs or an omlet to order. There was a small – but yummy – selection of pastries, bread, jam, sliced peppers, cucumbers – and a bit of meat to enjoy as as well. Yummy. How did it differ from the much larger spread at the Belcardi? The hostess smiled at us – welcomed us to breakfast – made us feel at home. I’m certain she’d put in a lot more hours than our sullen friend at the Belcardi – but she didn’t let on how tired she was – just greeted us and made us feel so very very welcome!

2nd night – We loved the Dvur so much – we checked out of the horrid Hotel Belcardi and drove back to the Dvur after the Sunday formal celebrations at Austerlitz. Now that’s a winner of a hotel. We even opted to stay in our room over the stables. The thought of that lovely warm bathtub was simply too thrilling.

Another glorious dinner – this time in the dinning room – another great breakfast in the bar area – and then back to the airport.

So one winner – one loser – nice trip in total.

Signing off to go run a market stall in London (you’ll have to check the next blog to see how that goes) – The soup lady.

Formally Yours from Austerlitz


Another overcast, cold and damp day in the Czech Republic. One is again reminded of the importance of the Sun of Austerlitz – without which Napoleon and the Grande Armee would have been fighting blind.

We are scheduled to attend a cermony at the Peace Memorial in Parce – one of the dozen villages that lie scattered around the still existing battle field of Austerlitz. About 45,000 men, (9,000 of them French, 36,000 Allies) and over 15,000 horses died on these fields in December 1805. There is an extremely toucing monument to the dead horses hidden behind the Stara Posta where we’ve been eating dinner, The Peace Memorial honors the fallen men – and is one of the few that I think is completely fitting to their memories. The setting is a huge park – the top of which is crowned by a low building topped by a tall column. Under the column is a fairly large Memorial chamber, one that will be important later today. Behind the memorial is a small museum dedicated to Napoleon.

For now – we gather at the bottom of the hill in Parce, a tiny Czech village with traditional homes and narrow winding streets. We prepare to march out together to do the 2km walk up the hill to the memorial. Victor joins the ranks of the flag bearers at the head of the parade – there are the flags of 12 different regiments, proudly organized to make the march.

Unfortunately, we do not have a drummer – so the troop must chant the pace to keep us all in step. The doctors fall in behind the troops – there are 4 of us – Boris Nezbada from the Czech Republic, another aide-Major Ivana Patráková dressed like me in light blue, and a very young ‘Pharmacist’ from the Corps Medical. He looks very dashing in his knee breaches and high white socks, but I immediately think – bet he’s going to be very cold. The 4 of us form up to follow our troop up the hill to the base of the Monument.

In the park like setting of the Peace Memorial, the Elite Gendarmes have used ‘danger’ tape to creat a main section for us – and areas to the left and right for the considerable audience. There are about 500 re-enactors at the ceremoney (quite a bit down from the 2000 that participated in yeserday’s battle – but still considerable) – and the Imerial Garde’s Drum and Fife Corps, complete with a very flamboyant Drum Major.

Not surprisingly – the speeches are all in Czech – so that’s pretty boring, particularly because, the wind is picking up, it’s quite damp, and it’s gradually getting colder and colder. The most excitement we have is admiring the winter coats of the Russian Women Re-enactors. They sure know how to dress.

When the Russian Orthodox priest appears to conduct a service – I’m ready to bolt. In Russia – those services lasted for hours – but this is the Czech Republic – fortunately we got the appreviated version. Only the Russians removed their hats, and only they seemed to know when to cross themselves. I’m painfully reminded of visit to the Churches in St. Petersburg – glorious music – but why can’t we sit down!

My young friend – the Pharmacist – is starting to shiver badly – so I move closer to him to share body warmth – and give him my wool cape. He suffers thru – maintaining his position in the line until we move to march into the Memorial Chamber. At that point he dccides that Hypothermia is not a good way to end the weekend – and hands back my cape to dash off to leave with his family.

Too bad too – because the part in the Memorial Chamber is the most emotional and moving part of the entire day. Marshal Soult (Oleg Sokolov) gave a stirring speech in French – congradulating the GRANDE ARMÉE on their performance yesterday- and encouraging us to continue to perform well in honor of the Emperor!

The Fife and Drum Corps perform several pieces – wreaths are laid on the main stone, there is a moment of silence as we recall those who fell, and when we quietly leave, there’s hardly a dry eye in the place.

Great way to end a wonderful weekend.

Too bad we now have to walk down that huge hill…. At least that exercise will warm our very cold feet.

Signing off to go warm up (hot goulash soup – here I come!) – The Soup Lady.

Fighting the Battle of Auterlitz – 210 years too late!


It is always a special thrill to participate in Napoleonic European Re-enactments. Unlike their North American counterparts – they are huge affairs – with even the smallest ones being done on fields that to our standards stretch on forever. And all of the ones I’ve been fortunate enough to attend have been staged on the actual battle fields.

Which is why I found myself at dawn on Dec 5, 2015 – standing along with another 100 souls at the top of Zuran Hill, hoping to see the Sun of Austerlitz rise in the East. All the important people were there – Mark Schneider doing his usual enthusiastic version of Napoleon – encouraging us to victory, Marshall Soult (Portrayed by Oleg Sokolov) – also elicting cheer after cheer for the new Emperor.

The Czech Renenactor Grenadier Imperial Guard unit was there in force, along with a smattering of the Marins de la Garde, 10 Cavalry members (Chaseurs de la Garde) – with their horses, and the Elite Gendarmes.

Of the folks gathered – I found the Gendarmes the most interesting. They wear a unique uniform – and they are the Napoleonic Military Police. They stand guard at the 4 corners of the space – making sure that only the folks who should be there approach. Later on they will be enforcing the rules of the battle field– No women in women’s clothing being apparently their primary target – well that and crowd control – no kids deciding to join in the battle please, and they even direct traffic if necessary!

We wait to see the sun rise – and of course it does – but it is hidden behind the famous haze of Austerlitz. You can make out tree lines and the general topgraphy, but if there were over 150,000 soliders (Russian, Austrian, and French) camped out in the surrounding hills and valleys – you’d never know.

In 1805 – Napoleon himself stood on this hill – gazed out at exactly this country side – and we can envision him imagining how the chess pieces would fall within hours. Today we can only cheer – and agree to meet at the base of Stanton Hill for drill at 10:00.

For us as re-enactors – the morning is spent either in drill – or in walking around the camp site. The outdoor camp is small – even by North American standards – but then we’re talking early December in the Czech Republic. In 1805 – there was snow. Today there is only a light frost – which quickly melts off – making for splendid re-enacting weather – our wool uniforms were designed for just these temperatures – but as the Doctor – I’m thinking that even so – we’ll be running out of water for the troops by mid-way thru the battle.

The camp is sectioned off – the Russians have claimed about half the space – they have a large contingent – and there are Russian Cantinieres who are selling home made Russian cakes and pies. I enjoy a delicious Apple Pastry – and it looks like business is good – they have different things on offer each time I stroll past.

There are some Bashkir Archers who have set-up a practice area – and are allowing the visitng children to try their hand at using the bows. Using a Bow and Arrow may seem silly today – but in 1805 these guys were deadly! They could fire multiple arrows in the time it would take us to organize just one volley. I join the line to try my hand, but while I have good form – I miss the target all 3 times. Oh well – Doctors don’t really need archery skills.

On the other 50% of the area are meeting grounds for Austrian and French troops. Most of the Re-enactors (there are over 2000) are staying in temporary lodging – police stations, gyms, barracks of one kind and another, or at local hotels – so there are many small areas to visit, no one big encampment like there was at either Leipzig or Waterloo.

Drill, Visits, and Lunch over – it’s time for the battle.

This is the 210th anniversery of the battle of Austerlitz – so it’s being held on a fairly large part of the still existing battle field. Since it is early December, there are no crops to deal with – we’re not forcing our way through grain fields – instead the field has already been tilled for winter, leaving a medium dry mud that clings alarming to our boots – inches deep at some points – making keeping boot soles clean an impossible task. I’m going to bet that there will be few wounded today – no one is going to want to fall into this mud!

The French, of which I am of course included, take the far Western portion of the battle field – we’re on the Stanton hill – and Napoleon (Mark Schneider) and his entourage are mounted or standing behind us. Below us are row after row of French soldiers, Some Cavalry – a narrow road – and then up hill from that are the vast array of the enemy on the Pratzen Heights. There are massed Austrian and Russian Troops – their cannon firing on our positions. We can see that some of the French troops have already been engaged in the battle – but we, the Imperial Guard are being held in reserve.

Napoleon’s tactic at Austerlitz was to pretend a weakness on the right flank that baited the Allies into weakening their center in order to try and crush that side of the Grande Armee. We are doing the same – the troops fighing now are just the teaser – the real numbers will not take the field until 3:00 PM.

Conditions are not wonderful for the Cavalry – Even Napoleon is thrown from his horse when the horse loses his footing in the mud. One of the aide-de-camps is unhorsed twice – and that’s only what we can see from our position. Reports are that many riders had to dismount or were thrown. When we are attacked by the Russian Household Cavalry later in the afternoon – we can’t see the impact – they are still a formidable opponent – and we must form square to protect ourselves at least twice.

Smoke and Fire – March up hill in ranks to face the enemy – exchange of fire, and then hand to hand combat. Some folks get caught up in the moment – and there is one guy who must be restrained by his own troops when he draws sword and tried to single handedly take down the Garde. Three Russians run around our flank and make a grab for our flag – but we stand strong and push them off.

The battle ends with the Russians and Austrians abandoning their cannons, and pushed into the crowds of spectators gathered on the far eastern side of the battle field , – much to their delight. As predicted – there are few fallen – but the need for water is great – and I spend much of the battle either giving out water or helping soldiers with fouled muskets to clean and repair their weapons.

At the end – there is a huge award giving cermony – Soldiers selected for getting Medals of Honour are handed their hard won awards at the hands of Napoleon.

Among them is Victor Eiser – who Napoleon singles out to not only receive the Legion of Honor – but to be given it with special thanks and a personal greeting.

Later that night – over dinner at the Stara Posta – Napoleon comes to our table to personally emphasize that of all the medals awarded today – Victor’s Legion of Honour is the one that he personally felt was most deserving.

Nice end to a nice day.

M. Le Docteur Jean Vivant de Clairemont
reporting from the fileds of Austerlitz, Czech Republic.

We sleep in the Stables –


I’m not joking – we are really staying in a Horse Barn very close to Prague in the Czech Republic.

We left Montreal for Prague what feels like months ago – but was only the day before Yesterday. Travel is tough on aging bodies – and long air flights in sub-economy is not the stuff of luxury and relaxation. But given my lowly status – I faired pretty well.

I went on line to check in – and decided to ‘change seats’ – just to see if magically a free upgrade to business or first class with better food, nicer service, and a bed would happen.

Nope. Lowly cheap economy is where I was doomed to be.

But – I did notice that the back 4 rows of the air craft – middle section – were empty. Humm. If I take one of those seats – maybe I’ll have the row to myself.

SCORE!

So I did, and I did. I watched a great movie – Mr. Holmes – you should see it – ate a lousy dinner – jokingly described as an elegant chicken dish with heritage rice and a rich hand picked tomato sauce, served with a fresh salad, hot roll with virgin butter, and a rich chocolate cake, layed with love and 4 different types of chocolate. Would you like water with that?

In reality – it was mystery chicken in a plastic dish with plastic cutlery, a square of semi-fresh chocolate cake (highlight of the meal), a salad that might have been fresh in January, and I’ll agree – a hot roll. And yes – I’ll have water with that.

But it’s not about the food – it’s about the 4 seats in a row that were mine, Mine, MINE!

I ate, watched my movie – and then laid down to sleep. I know I slept because my dinner dishes disappeared – and a ‘breakfast bread’ in plastic wrap appeared when I woke up. Easiest long flight ever.

Unfortunately – I didn’t fare as well on the next leg – from Franfurt to Prague. Either the time change got to me or that mystery meat was a deadly error – but my stomack was in serious knots by the time the plane had landed and we’d found the rental car place. We drove about 15 minutes to our hotel – and I was so seriously sick – the hotel owner took pity on me and put me in the only room that had been cleaned. What did I care – I sunk into bed – and tried hard to make myself feel better.

Several hours later – much restored – I arose – and swore off mystery chicken on airlines forever. And finaly – got to explore my location.

We’re at the Dvur Hoffmeister in Cicovice, Czech Republic – it’s a small Pensionne 10 minutes from the Prague airport  – just 7 rooms and a restaurant and a bar attached to the biggest horse training center I’ve ever seen. The training stable is amazing. It’s spotless clean – and filled with glorious horses. I feel in total love with a giant sweet heart of a horse – He’s what’s known here as a KWPN – Dutch Warmblooded Show Horse – and he’s huge! Seriously huge. My husband, Victor, stook next to him – and his head is probably 4 times larger than Victor’s head. And at 6′ – Victor could not see over his back. Huge.

According to Ria Hoffmeisterova – she’s the gal that runs the stable – and the sister of Ava Hoffmesiterova – the gal who runs the restaurant and Pennsione – and the daughters of the owner of the Dorf Hoffmeister – this horse is owned by an 18 year old gal who is on the Czech National Jumping team. No kidding.

Beautiful Horse.

Anyway – the stable has over 40 horses – ponies to huge jumpers like my friend, two indoor areans – one huge for jumping, one smaller Yurt shapped one for doing laps, at least 2 huge outdoor arenas, multiple outdoor pasture areas, at least 5 different stable areas for horss – we’re sleeping over one of these – a horse washing room that has a sunlamp section for ‘drying’ the hose – and a horse Gym!

I spotted the Ria leading a horse into what seemed to be a small – open at both ends – trailer. But it wasn’t a trailer – it was a treadmill for horses! No TV to watch – I guess it must get pretty boring, but the horse is lead inside, tied to the front bar, and the treadmill started. And the horse gets his exercise. Seriously. You ever heard of such a thing before?

Another odd thing – and maybe this is related to the fact that this is a super fancy horse stable – all the horses – every single one – had a blanket on. Big thick things, that fastened around the horse’s body – covering the butt as well as the entire body. And even when they were riding the horses in the arena area – they kept the blankets on the horses. just rolled a bit back to allow room for the tiny English saddles. Victor thinks it might be to keep them from growing winter coats.

Not that it is that cold here – maybe 45 degrees – warm by Montral Standards – but then the stables aren’t heated. In fact – they are interesting in themselves. I’ve seen lots of stables before – but these are the first I’ve seen with windows. And the horses seem to love standing with their heads out the windows – watching the action in the courtyards. To enter and leave their stalls – there are the traditional stall grates and fences – but every single stall had a window on the opposite wall – room with a view – for the horses!

We wandered freely around the space – watched the young ladies taking care of their ponies – exercising them, washing their feet, general stable stuff. There was no one working on jumping that we got to see – but it’s clear this is a serious place for training – and our host told us that this is the home to one of the National Level Training Schools for Jumpers in Czech.

Not surprised – it’s glorious.

Enough about the stable – on to the food and the rooms.

First – the food.

Victor booked us here because it was very close to the airport – and had good reviews. Well – the food totally justified the reviews. We ate dinner in the bar – the restaurant was reserved for a large party (more on that later) – but they offered us the full menu. I had octopus salad – made with spicy sausage – it was outstanding, and a su-vide preperation of pork belly that was also delicious. The pork meat was yummy- and the fat had been hard fried to a delightful crispness. Victor had a goat cheese appetizer that he thought excellent, and a deer filet dish that he also approved of. I thought my choices were better though. The only disappointment was dessert. I ordered a pear tart tatine – and I expected a tart – but it was deconstructed – so there was too much pear to pastry in my opinion. But I ate it all – so it couldn’t have been that bad.

Now the Lodging

There are just 7 rooms – and we were lucky enough to stay in 2 of them. The first was glorious. The walls leading up the winding stone staircase was filled with paintings and prints by surrealistic artisis – including Chagal, Dali, and others. Mostly sketches of course – but still. The room was ‘over the bar’ – and it was huge. Giant oversized bathroom with double sinks, and a deep European style tub, The room had a king sized 4 postered bed wtih draps tied back on all 4 sides, a giant sofa and arm chairs, and room to wander. The floor boards were at least 18″ wide – clearly old lumber, loving re-furbished to a high gloss.

The bed had those traditional European feather covers – two of them – once for each sleeper. Why they get folded sideways I don’t know – but opened up and turned 90 degress they are very comfortable. But who noticed – I was feeling so ill I just sank into the bed and pretended I wasn’t dead.

The bad news – this was supposed to be our room – but there was going to be a party that night in the bar – with a DJ going till 2:00 AM. And our host suggested that maybe – despite the beauty of the room – we’d be happier in a room that was smaller – but would be quiet.

Which is why we’re sleeping over the horse stable. There are 3 rooms loving rebuilt with lovely grohe faucets and comfy beds, huge sofas and TVs over the Stables. We walk past the horses – who lean out their windows to give us warm sniffs – up a metal staircase and into our hallway. Once in the hall – the space is modern and lovely and clean – and there’s no obvious evidence that you are in fact – above a stable. Our room – while not nearly as over the top as the first is quite comfortable – and our tub is a jetted double seating deep bather. It’s bath time tonight!

As for being over the stables – Except for the occasional horse moving around his paddock and the noise of the staff closing the big doors to the stables at around 6:00 PM – and I’m guessing we’ll hear them being opened tomorrow morning – but for now – all is dark, quiet, and peaceful.

Signing off to go snuggle back in bed.

The Soup Lady

Getting Fit – Bit that is!


I have joined the FitBit generation

I did not buy the thing – I didn’t steal it either – so those of naughty minds – you may breathe.

I inherited the thing from my husband – source of all new and highly rated technology. He found the one he had purchased several months ago too small for his large wrist. Besides – the screen was too small for him to read the time – and he couldn’t use it as a watch.

So he took advantage of Black Friday sales (on Saturday – but never mind) to purchase a newer, larger – with more screen space – version. And I have inherited his older one.

Good thing its decided small on him – otherwise I’d be swimming in it – but it’s actually not a bad size. And since I had thrown away my last watch (well – donated it to the VON – but you know what I mean), I definitely wanted a watch that wasn’t complicated, didn’t need to be loosened all the time – and was black.

I like black watches – they never clash with what I’m wearing. They might not actually go with what I’m wearing – but I’m much more concerned with clashing.

Back to my FitBit – man – this is complicated. I had to go to FitBit.com – set-up a new user, bond my fit bit to my ID – which set back the data file – a good thing, who wants to be saddled forever with someone else’s work out data. I used the very convenient help option to figure out how to control my dashboard – and was even able to Sync the thing to my computer. I can’t sync the thing to my iphone – my OS is too old, and apparently my ipad is also over the hill – technically speaking. So computer it is.

First day results – over 10,000 steps thank you very much! They even gave me a badge.

Question – what’s with that? Am I so needy that my Fit Bit has to congratulate me for walking? How pitiful is that.

But apparently the FitBit folks are smarter than I am – I had a friend rave about how she loved getting badges – and actually took the thing off when she traveled because she couldn’t see her badges and lost interest. Ok – guess I might rethink the badge thing…

But as per the Fit Bit – I rock.

Will monitoring my sleep help me sleep better? Will I walk further knowing that someone (even if it’s just my own computer for goodness sakes) is monitoring my results? The jury is still out – 3 days is simply insufficient data to draw a conclusion.

I will admit that knowing I’m sleeping at 90% efficiency is re-assuring – I was worried I was up too often, too early – guess I’m ok there.

But meanwhile – wave at me when I walk by – when I get to doing 10,000 with regularity – the next goal is 20,000!

Signing off to walk… The Soup Lady

Travel and an Identity Crisis- Can you have both?


An identity crisis is not a starting point for any journey

Rupert Murdock – Nov 30, 2015

Interesting statement, eh? Rupert was refering to the US government, and his point was that to give the US a sense of direction, a US leader muts understand, be proud of and assert the American personality.

But I took the comment more personally.

If you are considering changing yourself, either physcially by traveling to a different country, or G-d forbid, move to a different country – or mentally – it clearly helps to have a solid place to stand.

If you aren’t sure of what you want to accomplish, of what you’d like to achieve at the end of your journey – the path is more likely to be controted and mis-shappen.

On the other hand – It’s 50 years since Abby Road by the Beatles was released – and I’m just old enough to remember what it was like in those days. We all thought that traveling was how you ‘found’ yourself – trips to SF were pilgramiges in search of self – and perhaps a few drugs. I went to London in 68 – in theory to study Drama – but in reality I wanted to see a bigger world. Not that Boston wasn’t big enough – but Europe, London, Travel, New Sights, New Sounds – and no parents – no supervison at all – that’s heady stuff at 19 to 20.

Are we thinking today that the youth I was at 19 wasn’t having an identity crisis? It is of course hard to look back – age does add a distance – and I’ve always worn rose colored glasses – but I would have to say that travelling when you are young is all about identity crisis – and travel when you are old is about seeing what you missed.

Big topic, tiny blog…

I’m off again – this time to the Czeck Republic – I shall have to consider identity crisis another day. Signing off – The Soup Lady.

Black Friday and Cyber Monday – You have to be kidding me


Mutters on a Black Friday

I’m not much of a shopper – and I know there are some of you out there chuckling manically at this admission. I suppose in the world of complete honesty – I’d have to admit to not being a shopper at all. In fact – shopping to me is probably up there with banging toes against a dresser in the middle of the night for things to avoid at all costs.

So – Black Friday. What do I care?

I am completely bemused, amazed, and intrigued by the amount of advertising that is being done by retailers from large to small in the name of ‘Black Friday’. But that’s hardly new. What set my fingers to typing today is what I can only see as a new, and thoroughly hideous development.

There are retailers who have decided that Black Friday should start on Thursday. 3:00 PM to be exact. What does that mean for their staff? What in theory is supposed to be a day filled with turkey and giving thanks in family based gathering in all corners of the US is truncated by Dad or Mom or Sister or Brother saying – oops – got to go to work.

And worse – folks were actually fighting over the bargains – I know that because You-Tube posted a video of at least one fight – and my nephews were extremely thrilled to share it around. So folks got up from their dinning room tables, turned aside from their turkey dinners – to go fight for a TV. Really?

It wasn’t bad enough that Black Friday sales started at midnight on Thursday – there’s some logic in a contorted sense to that (Ok Kids, finish dinner, go to bed – Dad, Mom, Sister or Brother is headed to work or to shop) – but at least the day is yours. 3:00 PM defies logic and sense.

Worse – it leaves the retailers who stick to their guns and are holding off for FRIDAY a step behind the game.

I have to admit that I didn’t really notice that Best Buy was suffering when I was dragged unwilling in to check out a new Fit Bit for my husband. They seemed well stocked and well staffed – and it was Black Saturday. Maybe I just don’t know what the hot new – and unavailable thing actually happens to be this year. Color me out of the loop apparently.

Interestingly – The marketing brains for some retailers have decreed that their stores will not open on Thursday or Friday – giving their employees two days off. Nice – but so clearly a marketing stunt. How do I know – they are advertising the fact! Cue the cute pictures of a nuclear family enjoying Thanksgiving.

But before I end this rant – and honestly – this is what this is – a rant – I don’t think I’m going to get folks to rethink the wisdom of having a big sale to drag in customers to ensure that they come to you and not your competitors in this pre-pre-run up to Christmas, I do want to ask one question.

Do you know the reason we call the day after Thanksgiving – Black Friday?

Ah – historically – this was the day that retailers finally got into the Black!

Signing off to do anything but shop – The Soup Lady.