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Today we went from the Czech Republic through Poland to Germany, then back to Poland, a quick trip back to the Czech Republic and then from there to Poland and back, then back over to Germany, over to Poland for lunch, then back to Germany and then, finally, back through Poland to the Czech Republic, but it wasn’t  as dramatic as it sounds.
The plan was to take a day trip  to Germany, but the road zagged a bit through Poland, so there was  that.  Then, near Zittau, we saw a sign that said Dreilandespunkt fussweg cca. 10 min., except it wasn’t a double ss but that weird German letter that looks like a bloated capital b that’s come apart at the bottom, but fubweg wouldn’t make any sense at all, so it was about 10 minutes by foot to Dreilandespunkt, or Three Nation’s point, where the borders of Germany, Poland and the Czech Republic meet.  Now, I kind of think  (or thought, perhaps, that’s kind of what I’m saying here) this is a stupid form of tourism.  It’s like 4 corners in the U.S. where Arizona, New  Mexico, Colorado and Utah (4 beautiful states in their own right, no disrespect intended) meet and that’s it.  There’s nothing else there.  There’s a plaque, there’s a gift shop, and there’s a parking lot, probably  more than one of each, but there’s no  particular item of scenic beauty there, nothing of  great historical importance ever happened on the site.

Nonetheless, we started walking and it was a lovely day  for  it.  It wasn’t too hot yet, and it was a pleasant, shaded sidewalk.  Bicycles  passed us.  We saw  a group of 3 canoes on the Nisa (German Neisse) river, which is not that big of a river at that point, I would have said the Nisa is to rivers sort of what Pluto is to planets.  More on that in a second.
I started thinking “It doesn’t  matter if it’s an arbitrary  place to be, it doesn’t matter if  it’s an arbitrary thing  to  see, we are walking on a bicycle path by  the river on a lovely Saturday morning in the summer, in Germany, and this is very nice.  You could arrange your travels by only going to castles, cathedrals, or cities with the letter J in their name.  It doesn’t matter.  The way there will be interesting.”
We got to Dreilandespunkt and there’s not much there, the Polish part has a humongous crucifix, the Czech part some tall tower of welded metal plates with a bell at the top, and the German side contented itself with a flag.  There was no  bridge so Sam, his girlfriend and I waded across.  (told you it was small)  Walked over to Poland, back  into the Czech Republic, and waded back across.
It was time for lunch so we headed up to Gerlitz for  lunch and a bit of sight-seeing.  It’s a beautiful town.  We know it because my wife had an aunt who lived in Zgorzelec, which is the Polish side of it.  Walked around old town square but the restaurants were pricey, so we decide to get away from the center a bit, carried on past a really impressive Cathedral, then there was a break in the buildings and we could see down the hill and there was the river, and there was a restaurant on the Polish  side.
It was reasonably priced for  a very good meal, although it seemed a lot of people were going there just for the ice cream, and the ice cream  portions were huge.  Next time I’m in Zgorzelec…

I had pierogis with a sauerkraut and mushroom filling, and we sat on the terrace with a view of the river which, somehow, had tripled in size, at least, in the intervening 40 kilometers or so, and there was a bubble maker on the bridge sending down bubbles in flocks, like butterflies used to have.
Then, it was back  over to Germany to get the car and we headed for a lake a bit south of town for an afternoon swim.  The water was perfect, not too cold at all, and it wasn’t too crowded, because it  was probably about 5 o’clock by that time.
Then back home, via Poland, of course.   Didn’t get home until almost 11 but it was, indeed, a fine, fine day.

We’re at the cottage.  Me, Helena, Sam, and Sam’s girlfriend.  We weren’t entirely sure if that was girlfriend girlfriend or just girl who’s a friend, but that was probably denial and wishful thinking on our part (he’s 14).  Anyway, she seems nice.

So, we decided to take a side trip to Liberec, because she had never been there.  I was certain we’d visited Jestěd recently(that was our first stop), but Helena said that Sam was just a baby then, and Sam didn’t remember it at all, so I guess she’s right.  Jestěd is a mountain, and a ski resort, with a couple of snack bars and scenic lookout points at the top.  You take a cable car up, which is not my favorite thing – it does not fill me with confidence when I see a plaque talking about how it was built – in the 1930s.

At the top, we were looking out at the broad sweep of Czech countryside, a patchwork of forests and fields.  You can see into Germany from there, and you know it’s Germany because suddenly there are windmills all over the place.  I wondered how long it would take, in the event of something apocalyptic, which wipes out most of the human race, leaving only small bands of wanderers here and there re-learning how to live off the land, for it to revert to it’s natural state (unbroken forest).  I figure about 20-30 years.
After that, we went into Liberec and took a walk around town – lovely town square, where they had a ‘beach bar’ set up.  Nice concept, a big sandbox but with tables  and umbrellas and tropical drinks.
Tomorrow we’ll probably take a side trip into Germany, but Liberec zoo has also been mentioned as a possibility.

It is hot, it is so hot.  We just went to watch a movie outdoors, it’s a lovely neighborhood thing to do, behind the Czech Radio building next to Kaislerovi Sady.  When I say ‘neighborhood,’ that perhaps is adding an undeserved  diminutive, because they can fill  up all  of the plastic chairs they  put out, and some people just put a blanket on the ground.  Probably close to 300 people, my guess, which is  way more than you’ll find in most cinemas.
But it is after midnight now, we’re at home, the door is open, and I’m still sweating.  Just went out on the balcony to cool down.  It does not feel like rain, but I couldn’t see many stars, either, so maybe.  I hope.

The film was ‘The Zookeeper’s Wife, about the keepers of the Warsaw Zoo, who  hid Jews in the basement under their house and tunnels under the zoo.  It was a well  done movie and based on a true story, so I suppose you  could do worse.  Personally, I hate watching movies about the holocaust and would never watch one willingly, but Helena wanted to see this one.

Tomorrow, we’re heading up to the cottage for the weekend.  Maybe Saturday we’ll take a side trip to Germany.  I’ll take the computer with me so  I  can  continue my  blog and also continue work on my latest poetry book.  I’ll probably get as much done as I would at home.

The New Colossus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
MOTHER OF EXILES. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

-Emma Lazarus

This sonnet is on a plaque at the base of  the statue of liberty.  It is, first and foremost, a great poem.  It is also as great a statement of American intent as the Declaration of Independence.  America is a nation of immigrants.  It is  a place people  can come to to make a new life.  It is a land full  of hope for a better future.
Or used to be at any rate.  Today, Trump spokesman Stephen Miller (is he the interim Scaramucci?  If so, sure screwed up fast, didn’t he?) was talking about immigration.  When a reporter quoted this poem, he said something along the lines of “Eh, it’s just a poem.  Doesn’t really have anything to do with the statue.”
It has everything to do with the statue, and the statue has everything to do with what America was supposed to be about.  Stephen Miller doesn’t understand poetry.  And he  doesn’t understand America.

A lot of people seem to be talking about Seth Rich.  It’s about damned time, but I’m not exactly sure what anyone is trying to say.

Is there a connection between Imran Awan and Seth Rich?  Well, there was the photo circulating which they said was of Seth Rich and Imran Awan (and a whole bunch of other people) on the day of the night on which Seth Rich was killed, but others are saying that is not Imran Awan in the photo, but that little detail should be easy  to clear up.  Awan is still alive, it shouldn’t be a problem  to ask him, or to check him  against the photograph.

But the photograph wouldn’t prove anything except that they knew each other, and that’s a fairly reasonable assumption, since they both  worked for the Clinton campaign, in D.C., at a fairly high level.

At any rate, I’m glad the case is receiving some attention, even though it might be coming from the wrong sources, and people with twisted agendas.  As long as the case stays open, and people keep asking questions, the better off we all will be.

Meanwhile, it might also be good to ask questions about  John Ashe, Shawn Lucas, Peter Smith, Beranton Whisenant and Klaus Oberwein as well.  So many deaths of otherwise healthy men in such a short time is, statistically, really unlikely.  Unlikely enough to raise suspicions.