Getting Ready to Go: I

What a lot I have to do this week before I leave next Sunday! I haven't taken a trip of this magnitude since 1960, when my first husband, Frank, and I headed for Munich, Germany, and his assignment to the Third Englineer Battalion. (Any old Army Engineers out there?) Frank had to sell Nellie, his old black sedan, and besides packing for three years (!), I had to make sure my Siamese cat's papers were in order.

We were flying on an Army DC6 4-prop transport plane: cargo in back, people and cat up front. It was Spring, but we were told to dress warmly as the plane's interior could get chilly. We found out it could also get uncomfortable: not just drafty, but hard-as-rock seats and no noise buffering to speak of. The vibration kept us running to the restrooms. Unlike commercial flights today, there was no luggage limit, even though we'd touch down to refuel in Iceland and change to a Lufthansa plane for the Frankfurt-Munich leg. I seem to recall that it took us sixteen noisy, exhausting hours to reach our destination. I'd had the foresight to pack overnight bags. As happens all too often on contemporary flights, our baggage caught up with us later.

This time I'm flying Berlin Air from New York to Zurich, Switzerland, where I'll be greeted by a friend from one of my computer lists, not an unknown Lieutenant escort in a dun-colored jeep. Rockstar, my handsome blue Suburban will be waiting for me when I return. I am so used to sitting up high in her roomy cockpit, I just hope I can cram my chubby old inflexible frame into the cabin of the Compact the travel agent tells me will be awaiting my arrival in Zurich. I guess I'll rapidly learn to look under and around the vehicles in front of me, instead of over their tops. Different segment of my tri-focals: I'll adjust!

Kimmie, my beloved Siamese, was stolen just before Frank and I left for Germany, so he didn't get to go. (More about that later.) Shotoku Nashira's Boy O Boy, affectionately known as Boyo, is going to live with a young breeder near Zurich who has several eligible brides awaiting his amours. Since he's been eyeballing his sister, I can't get him there any too soon! He's a handsome moderately typey fellow, a Tonkinese Champagne Mink, not show quality in the Cat Fanciers' Association, which is my cattery affiliation. But he should do well in Monika's organization. In any event, he'll make gorgeous babies, and that's why he going there to live. He's had his shots, including rabies, and he's been microchipped, all required for import to Switzerland, along with his health certificate. I won't hear him if he wails: I'm taking an Ambien. I'd better not hear any screaming babies, either. I did buy electronic cigarettes, so when I wake up I can have that first cigarette and coffee, without which I am a slugglish old curmudgeon. If Boyo sleeps through the trip, he can talk us through Customs!

Not that I'm bringing much. One small rolling suitcase, and once Boyo is out of his soft Sherpa carrier, I'll appropriate it as a peripheral bag. Every book I've read has warned "travel light!" I think I'm taking more prescription meds than I am clothes. The bottles seem to accumulate once you hit sixty. These are extra large, since I'll be gone for a month. My Part D meds company gave me "vacation approval" for extended refills. I was surprised at how easy that was. CVS just had to call for permission. I just have to squeeze them into my suitcase.

One pair of jeans for visiting farms (and, hopefully, a racecourse, a la my alltime favorite author, Dick Francis); two pairs of casual washable quick-dry pants and one dressier pair; three long-sleeved Ts (to hide my upper arms; I don't care how hot it gets), two dressy blouses and a long skirt; two pairs of walking shoes and one pair for dressup (and isn't that a Forties word); two sweaters and a jacket, plus a nightshirt-cum-robe, socks and underthings. That should cover me (you should excuse the pun) for the whole trip, including the ship home. They tell me I should have a rain jacket, which I'm planning to buy tomorrow when I return the clothing that didn't fit to TJMaxx.


I bought an electronic translator that also cleverly converts currency and handily tells me my European clothing and shoe sizes. You never can tell. While dirndl skirts and Lederhosen aren't my style (and never were), I might decide I "need" a Loden coat. Unfortunately, moths devoured the original. A Swiss Army knife and a Victorinex watch are on my list, but last I checked, I didn't need to worry about sizing.

Tuesday I pick up my netbook, which my nephew will teach me to use. I'll have to be a quick learner, and there are no guarantees when it comes to me and electronics: I'm sadly electronically challenged. In fact, when I used to walk into the old Teacher's Credit Union they knew I'd arrived because all the computers would crash. I haven't been welcome there since. When I got my new cell phone yesterday the salesman had to tell me what a bluetooth is and how it works. I'll probably never use it. I'd feel as if everyone thought I was listening in on their conversations with it perched on my ear like a bug!


There's also the money belt; the pocketbook with a steel cable through its shoulder strap to deter theft; the electric converters; and all the mini rolls of toilet paper, bottles of shampoo and conditioner, folding toothbrush with mini tube of toothpaste, packets of soap, hand cleaner, and other personal hygeine aids. At least I do know what a bidet is for and how to use it! Though the first time we visited Paris, I thought it was a footbath. Our puppy, Ilo, used it for a waterbowl.


Tomorrow I'm off to buy a new lens for my Nikon D50. I hate the lens that came with the camera. Hopefully I'll be able to purchase the new 17-200, and will be able to stick with that one lens the entire trip. I'm planning to take a ton of pictures, so be prepared!