ON the train between Frankfurt and Offenburg, traveling South.

>CLICK
HERE FOR PHOTOS OF OUR GOODBYE TO HAMBURG AND HELLO TO PORT BARCARES

After several
hours of being tortured by an extremely tired, excited son, I have been given a
few minute respite from being mama, with two small beings conked out on the
floor of a first class compartment.

My mother in law was so nervous this morning that I could hardly get ready.
The train was leaving at 12:24, and it takes approximately 25 minutes to get to
the station from Kornweg. Fifteen minutes on either side of that, and it seemed
to me that an hour would be more than enough time to have everything properly
prepared. At 9:45, when I said I would like to take a shower, her eyes became
wide and fearful. "You don't have time! " she said.

Of course I made the time for everything I needed to, including shlepping
kids' bikes and strollers and tricycles up to the attic, canceling my AOL
account (that free month was SO helpful!) and kissing goodbye the things I will
love and miss: all those photos, my books, diaries, bathtub, four burner stove.
I kissed goodbye my telephone, my answering machine. Goodbye nice clothes.
Goodbye big playroom and balcony. Goodbye, you comfy suburban German life, blue
acres here we come.

Outside on the street, our little 3 year old neighbor Alina stood cherub
cheeked, ready to wave us goodbye. She, like all the children in the
neighborhood, looked like she knew that street so well, that every little patch
of grass around her home was familiar territory. I thought about my daughter,
how used to moving she is, how she looked at Alina... did she remember her name?
Did they ever even get to play together? I doubt it. All the four years we've
spent part of her life visited Oma and Opa's house in Wellingsbuttel, Antonia
has not made a single close friend on that street. In europe it seems to take
ages to really have kids meet kids, or you need to have been a part of their
world for awhile.

"So," said Alina's father, Sunday morning rake in hand, "You're going back,
are you?"

Back? I thought about it. Where did he mean by back? I suppose we were going
back to the boat, but somehow it felt like going forward more than back.

Port Barcares, France

We’ve been aboard for three days now.

The kids are having a ball. This place would be perfect, if they had space at
the kindergarten where I wanted to put the kids. No room at the inn! What can I
do? Hire a babysitter for a few hours a day. Money, honey. And that doesn’t
solve the playing with the kids thing. There may still be a apace for Antonia at
the school here, but even that’s not for sure.

But the kids are thrilled to be aboard, I can tell. They finally seem to be
“at home.” Isn’t it strange, ironic and weird how much I wish we had family
around us : Oma and Opa, Gramma and Grampa, Aunties and Uncles… and they all
want to be around us, too… and yet here we are, far away from anyone we know,
haven’t met a soul around here yet (although the people seem friendly enough!).
What wouldn’t I do to just have a little something or someone for the kids… but
there I go again looking at the down side of things. The boat is getting better
and better. Right now Achim is installing two shelves for the big books taking
over the cabins… he began to install the CD player so we can have music… washing
machine and dishwasher are both kicking, I took my first hot shower on board for
our 12 year anniversary yesterday. There is always a ton of stuff to do and I
can’t just plant the kids in front of a video anymore… we only have 4 dvds!

Port Barcares is a feast of famine tourist spot, completely dead in the off
season and absolutely packed in the high season. And right now it’s extremely
windy, especially down at the port. I am SO happy to be in one place, though,
and not have to run around. The kids still just talk about taking a train,
plane, bus… for once we are staying somewhere for a little while!

For Toni and Ari Fans Only!!

For Toni and Ari Fans, Click
here
for your day's dosage.

 

 

Toni's Year of Travel : 2003 encapsulated

Dear Friends and Family, Yesterday, I was playing Travel with Ari. I said, “let’s go visit gramma.” I put Ari’s backpack on him, filled it with Tarzan figurines, and headed for the door. “How do you plan on getting there, young lady?” mommy asked. “With a plane and a boat, I said, then added, “ and a car.” “Choochoo train!” Ari screamed. So I thought I could give you a summary of what our year looked like: January We go to the beach a lot in Kailua, where we live in a highrise apartment building. February Gramma and Grampa visit us in Kailua. We can walk to their apartment and they take us around in our double stroller. Ari almost gets circumcised but talks mommy and daddy out of it. March Everything mommy can’t sell on Ebay, she packs into the Volvo and leaves it in a garage, then we take a plane to see Gramma and Grampa again. Then we are on another plane to see Oma and Opa again. April We take the train down to Bad Gastein Austria, where Oma and Opa take us for walks around the Alps and where we can throw things off their balcony. It’s a lot of fun to stay in an apartment with no electricity, and I help mom light and blow out the candles every night. May Mommy gets ripped off on Ebay, I see her tearing her hair out on the computer. We take a car down to our boat in France, then take another train up to Hamburg. I like the train better than the car. June Take a plane to Santa Fe New Mexico, Where Mommy read Aristotle and other stuff without pictures. We got to watch lots of Cinderella, eat lots of ice cream, and go to the children’s museum with gramma and grampa. July Still in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Some nights, gramma puts us to bed. Mommy doesn’t know how to do that. We get to see an Indian feast, play in the swimming pool, and watch gramma and gramma schwitz. August Mommy wears a funny cap and gown. We celebrate my fourth birthday with piñata, pin the tail on the donkey, and lots of friends. Take a plane to Germany in time for a second birthday party. September Take a train to the Lüneburger Heide, where I get to play with kittycats and Ari gets to play with a cool train set. Then we take a train down to South of France and help daddy to Make the boat. October We drive to St. Tropez to look at Sarah Darling’s pretty Galapagos animal pictures. Ari can’t talk them out of it this time, and we take him to the clinic. His peepee hurts for awhile, so we don’t take any trains or planes for a few weeks. November I go to a French school called “La Maternelle.” I learn to say “Stop that!” and “Sit down!” in French.  Ari goes to his own school called “the Little Chickies.” Sometimes I go there with him, and I like it there better. December We take a train back up to Oma and Opa’s to celebrate Channukah and Christmas. Daddy escapes from a bad guy in Port Napoleon with our boat, which he sails to Port Barcares, near the Spanish border. We can see snow on the Pyrenees from our deck. Next year, we’ll be sailing a whole lot more, we hope.

August 1999 to March 2004

It feels hopeless to enumerate everything that we’ve

done for the past 5 years. It’s also amazing to think that’s how long it’s been

since our “live” update days, but I am committed to make it happen again.


Let’s give the basics: August 1999
toni was born... six month later I tried to write an update and this is what came
out:

If nature hadn't developed babies with such soft skin
and sweet smell, I would have had this update written ages ago. But my fingers
would rather be marveling at the softness of her cheek than tapping out these
letters on a mini keyboard schlepped from Hawaii to Hamburg to South of France
and back…

I mourn the loss of the non-mother Erika who could find
the time to sit and write. It's not that I don't find it now, but I suppose I
don't choose it. Writing with the baby on my lap has to be the number one
distraction I've had to face in my life. I knew it would be hard, but what makes
it hard is just how damn easy it is for them to be my number one focus. Perhaps
because I've never had a "distraction" which caused this little amount of guilt.

But hey, two paragraphs have already been executed and baby still sits
relatively quietly on my lap, fist in her mouth, big grey eyes staring at my
sleeves, putt-putting her mini farts, reminding me of the chili con carne I had
for dinner at our country western gig last night. She much prefers her hand to a
pacifier, my comfy cozy companion.

I could report about everything that has happened in
the last six months. About our visits to California, and now here in Hamburg.
About the birthing experience in the Windward shore of Oahu, about my excursion
with my sister and newborn daughter along the volcano coast of the Big Island.
But the problem once again is the incredible delicate sweetness of Antonia's
hands, which need to be held to believe. Another problem is the peach fuzz on
the top of her head that must be regularly stroked. Let's face it, the main
problem lately is that huge wide eyed smile, toungue sticking out, with new
cooing sounds and jerky, uncoordinated fibrulation that only babies can do. So
I'm stuck in the present.

Such is the curse and blessing of motherhood!

About a year later, we sold our Steel Pangaea to a
Swiss family who is now with her in New Zealand. Of course they may have
continued on further than that, and they have their own website in German,
www.pangaea.ch

In January of 2001, we bought
our new Pangaea in the
exact same marina we found the first one, Port Camargue in the South of France.
We celebrated the new sailboat by getting pregnant with Ari, who was
born 10 months later.
It has taken us that long, with plenty of living and working in between, to
prepare the new Pangaea for the next cruise, this time with the kids.