A new look at Washington, D.C. starting with Stalin's garage sale

I had not been in DC since 1974.  Previous to that, I had visited several times.  It was a violent and fearful city then.  Even - and especially - right in front of the White house, every vehicle was warned to drive 24 hours a day with doors locked and windows rolled up.  The violence was crazy.  It was supplemented by the sometimes madness of the anti-war and civil rights movements.   I once hitch hiked at night from Georgetown to Dupont circle (I must have been out of my mind).  A true madman right out of some B movie gave me a ride.  He stuttered so badly I could not understand much of what he said.  He had trouble shifting the gears as apparently whatever drugs he used interfered with supple gear shifting.

He told me he was the most antiwar of all antiwar people and had the elements of a bomb with him.  He thought I did not believe him, so when he dropped me, he got out, opened the trunk and showed me four sticks of dynamite in a grocery bag and next to them, a box opened to show some wires and electrical parts.

Another trip, I was working on my M.A. and had sold a piece of personal art to some people in Winnipeg.  They owed me $600. and said I should pick it up on the way to the airport.  That was a nice sum of money to a grad student in 1973,but now I was stuck carrying around the cash for two weeks in DC and later New York.

Once in DC, I checked in to what would be called a two star hotel right across from the new and widely celebrated Watergate hotel and complex. When I checked in, I had to ask for a safe deposit box.  The old and haggard witch at the desk was the essential definition of a hag. She saw me put the fat envelope in the box.  The evening before I was to check out she said;

Ya better take that money out of your box tonight because I have to be at the dentist in the morning and I am not sure what time I will be back.

That's o.k. because my New York train is in late afternoon.

Well, it could happen that I won't even come back and then as I am the only one with the keys, you won't get your things.

What could I do?  I took out the envelope and went to my room which was the nearest the desk - maybe only 20' from it.  Less than two hours later, there was a tremendous kicking at my door.  Two critters were intent on kicking it in.  I had just retired and was either naked or in underwear.  I jumped up and held the door, but I could hear one thug speaking to another and felt I could not hold them off.

I managed to pull two pieces of furniture over and block the door some, but they were determined.  I knew that at that time even many senators, congressmen and news reporters carried guns, so I shouted "Stop or I will shoot.  I have a gun and I will shoot."  Incredibly they stopped.

I knew the Hag controlled the phones, the - useless - air conditioner blocked the window, and I was trapped there all night.  But I was safe.  Several people in DC were genuinely horrified what would have happened to me if they entered the room as all indications were that it would have been uncivil to say the least.

Stalin's garage sale 

Over the past couple of years, I did quite a lot of study after I heard that Stalin had sold off many treasures from great Russian museums - including the Hermitage - and looted treasures from many of the great Russian estates.

It took several books to get the facts.  It seems that Lenin and Stalin, like the peasants, felt that the art sitting in museums did nothing for the hungry population which was also pumped up on building a great new society.  They set out a plan to sell off as much as possible and purchase the tractors the peasants wanted. Curiously, the accountant assigned to establish prices, set them way over market values of the time.  Even the wealthiest westerners would not pay such prices and little sold.

However, the U.S. ambassador at the time was of the Mellon family.  They were at the zenith of their wealth and were establishing and themselves building the new National galley in DC and buying wildly for their own collections as well. Both the ambassador and his wife were concerned that the hostility of the communists toward art and fine things was so ardent that they might allow some or all of it to be damaged or destroyed in such unpredictable times.  They began to purchase as much 14, 15 and 16th century works as they could

One other American involved was Armand Hammer.  Love him or not, I personally think was probably the greatest businessman of all time.  He managed to do a lot of deals with the communists.  On his first trip to Russia, he managed to meet Lenin. On a subsequent trip, while in London, he was in a junk shop and saw a desk sized sculpture of a monkey contemplating a human skull.  He presented it to Lenin, and it remained on his desk until he died.  From then to Gorbachev, Hammer personally knew every dictator except one.  He was famed in Russia for that and had a lot of leverage, you could say.

I had a great desire to visit the National gallery to see if I could identify some of the works the Mellons purchased from Stalin's big sale.

It happened that the airfare was modest. As it was the week of U.S. Thanksgiving, all the Big Big shots were out of town an I found a perfect room at the Grand Hyatt for $99 U.S. + tax; surely the best hotel deal I have ever been blessed with - and they gave me waay early check in and waay late check out at no extra charge, and they were really nice too.  It was five blocks from the W.H., and about the same to the National, the Cdn. embassy, and three blocks to the National Portrait, American art and folk art museum.

The 1st day was cold and windy, but sunny and clear.  One starts at the National Gallery outdoor sculpture garden.  It was so nice.  You will recognize Claes Oldenburg's eraser, probably not Miro's folding doughnut, and a grand chromed tree named Graft.  Perfect !

Inside we first attend the immense sculpture collection - rooms and rooms of the very best of sculpture anywhere. Suddenly, you begin to recall that many listings show the National as the greatest public art collection in the U.S.,and I would say that it is a fair appraisal.

The bronze face is Mahler.  The Degas little dancer is the original one and is the very ugliest one I have seen of many. They also have the 1st one struck and it is also pretty ugly.  But the later ones I have seen prettified are not what he intended at all. The one I saw in Dresden was so beautiful (not the face, but the dress and body - but even the face was prettified cf. the original in DC) There are now so many of these (probably 300) and there have been recent indication that they are still making new ones in Paris at this moment.

The Napoleon is Jacques Louis David's.  Do you know that JLD was in Bastille for some months scheduled to be executed, but it never happened.  He was contracted by many of the inhabitants to draw portraits of them for their families.  He had little time as some were executed the day after the arrived.  But there are a lot of David portraits today that are of people he drew before they died.

There is a whole book of letters the condemned wrote to their families, which the cruel guards never delivered and remained in the archives.  I read many of them.  In the book it expands on the life behind bars in that part of the Bastille at the time.  the author said that the leading desire of condemned women was sex and as much as possible in the time they had remaining.  It happened then that the men and women were kept in the same area.  Eventually the superintendent came and told them harshly that the place had a reputation in Paris now of a brothel, and he had to then separate the men and women.

That Hopper, Cape cod evening is so compelling.  The Van Gogh self-portrait is one of  the greatest paintings I have ever seen.  You should fly there just to see it (and have lunch in the great sniffy cafe on main floor).  His forehead, and some of his hair really is green.  What can compare to that - try about 14 Rembrandts', two of which are the most famous - his self portrait and one other.  Try walking into one of many, many rooms with about 10-12 paintings and 8-10 of them are so famous they are in every book of major paintings.  It is truly thrilling to have the chance to see these works in real life and one does so admire the Mellons for the massive contributions to this grand place.  And it is free like all the museums in DC, so you can come and go frequently -as I did.

The greatest  treasure of the NG is the da Vinci - immediately above here -  (only one in U.S.) Ginevra (1474).  Mrs Mellon bought this from the King to Lichtenstein for $5 million, put it in a suitcase, bought a seat for it on a commercial flight and took it home to DC.  The Raphael Alba madonna (1510) is also a treasure among hundreds.  It is shocking for me to see the Boy in red shown above from the 15th C., in original frame and in perfect condition.  These are the kind of things that came right out the Hermitage.  I went to museum staff and asked to see the list of all items bought from Russia.

The gallery allows artists to come in and paint reproductions one day a week.  The thing that looks like a water fountain is actually a brass water fountain that is so pretty, and is one of a family of them on each floor.

I have taxed your patience enough.  I will just say that I also was pleased to visit the Hirshhorn modern museum, and the puissant Phillips collection, Arlington cemetery, Vietnam memorial, Chinatown, the Building museum and several nice neighbourhoods and fine restaurants.  What a great trip, and good for DC and the U.S. that among all the sturm und drang, dismal obsessions, fear of everything/anything, and billions of tons of truly bad art today, there is a fine city, with nice people, and so much great art.

Hyatt atrium view from my 11th floor perch - altho my corner room was an external one, with a nice view.  This actually was a v. sleek hotel and my room was normally $400.

A wonderful place: the National American art, portrait and folk art gallery, Washington, D.C.

This was such a surprise to me.  Given many options and limited time and energy, I usually do not opt to spend time in portrait galleries.  I cannot forget the miles of dark and hideous ones I saw in Russian galleries.  But, as has occasionally happened, I was wrong.

This gallery is so fantastic that I went to it four times, and made another brief trip just before I left for the airport to return home.  A no admission (not even tipping is allowed at the coat check) policy is so convenient to breaking up visits.

It consists - a far as I could tell - of four buildings joined (recently) by this lovely covered courtyard designed by the famous architect, Norman Fosters (Beijing terminal, Gherkin London, HSBC H.K., Reichstag dome & proposed new tower at 1 Bloor West).

In terms of oils, their great treasure is Bierstadt's Among the Sierra Nevada .  It has its own specially (low) lighted room. It is 6 feet by 10 feet and is spell binding.  They have placed a comfortable sofa in front of it and most people to sit down as it takes quite some time to inhale this truly grand and massive work.  I had never realized that he painted it in Rome, then toured it around Euro cities before it ever reached the U.S.  Europeans did not know that it is an imaginary scene and it is written that it set off considerable emigration of people believing that the whole of the U.S. was so Edenic.

This is actually the work I wanted to view just one more time before I left for the airport.

That entire spectacular institution is overflowing with genuinely profound works of art and sculpture.  The buildings and rooms are attractive and everything is displayed perfectly.  I was especially impressed with the large number of almost unknown WPA artists, whose works are truly first class.  I think the only well known big name among them was Edward Hopper.

There is a somewhat small section of folk art, but the quality is so high that we are forced to spend time with nearly every item.  The portrait gallery is actually more art than portrait.  The Presidents' gallery is large and of course, includes every president.  They are a lot more interesting than you might think.

The treasure of all of them is the Gilbert Stuart full-length portrait of Geo. Washington. The info says that a family owned it for a long time and lent it to the Gallery.  But at some point, the family wanted to take it back and sell it.  The Gallery had to raise $20 million in 2001 to save it from being removed,

I wanted to see more of Stuart's versions of it, so I typed into google images Gilbert Stuart. In among the images were these mysterious paintings:

Some wag(s) have revised many famous paintings with Mr. Bean's seemingly elastic face.

Oddly, for being an "American" and "portrait" gallery, the top floor had an absolute knock-out show of great modern art.  There were  major works by Picasso, Calder,Lichtenstein, Miro, O'Keeffe, Hockney, etc.  Two of my favourite works were by Botero.

The photo above is from the internet and is unkind to her - she looked a lot better where I saw her.

The spectacular (new) Renwick Gallery, Washington, D.C.

Directly across from the front of the White house is Lafayette park.  Crowding itself into the park is the Renwick gallery (shown above).  It is very old and was saved from demolition by Jackie Kennedy. It housed pretty standard art for most of its life.  Recently it underwent a long reno and is now re-opened and re-purposed as a breathtaking and moderately crazy, modern art gallery.

One artist was Patrick Dougherty who seems to have a habit of winding long tree branches into many shapes.  A lot of them strike me as nests of giant birds.  You can look at his website to see the great things he has created all over the world.  I so loved his work.

Another installation was by Gabriel Dawe - another website you can look up.  It was impossible to photo his work because they space was so tight. He weaves threads or filaments into complex forms, in huge scale, using a lot of colours and complimentary lighting.  The obsessive perfection that goes into his work is just inestimable by normal humans like us.

Believe it or not, there is a woman named Jennifer Angus who is certainly crazy by any definition.  Ms. Angus purchased - and captured a few herself - 5,000 bugs from Southeast Asia, in sizes from minute to shockingly large. She then paints the walls of her exhibition in the blood (honest) of the Cochineal bug which is more commonly used for food colouring.  She then attaches her 5,000 victims (which probably = 500,000 little legs) to the walls in patterns - the most apparent ones above being skulls (don't ask).

I cannot recall now what was in that stand in the middle of the floor, but it was not bugs, and it was a lot of drawers with some things which I spent a lot of time studying.  You could say I am not decidedly pro-bug, although there are many S.E. Asian bugs beautifully shown which I am quite happy not to have met on my travels there.

The bugs do not go to waste - she repackages each one in specially made trays and moves her beloveds on to some other show in the world where once again, they are pasted to a wall...etc.

As wonderful as those installations were, nothing really equals the indisputable insanity and talent of a Mr. John Grade.  He searched for just the right tree in Washingon state.  Found  Mr. Right Tree then proceeded to make a wax cast 40 feet up the tree and much of its branches.  Took that cast back to his Seattle studio, made a reverse cast, cleared away the original one, and presto, he had replicated the forest tree precisely.

Then he used 500,000 re-purposed rectangular cedar blocks just a few inches in size, with a rectangle hole cut in the centre of each to glue to his tree.  It was such a massive job that he put the tree horizontally in his studio window so people would see it and come in, and then he recruited  a few hundred to help him complete the work in only a full year.

The tree trunk and limbs on the lower photo shows it all hung from wires in the very tight gallery space.  In the top photo, you are looking from the base and root beginning right through the inside of the tree into the black hole which is the top exit.  There was another small tree also on display and it was a wonder to see.  One never becomes accustomed to the apparently unlimited talent of  genuine artists.

I loved and so admired the Renwick for such a bold re-purposing of a space and selecting such unexpected works of art.  It helps that it was free so I could go back and be amazed repeatedly.

Washington has dramatically changed in the best way.

I first went to Washington in the 60s.  There were still WWII quonset huts on the Mall and along the Potomac.  When JFK came into office, he said that the District did not resemble the so-called world class city it was diplomatically, and needed to change.  He order the Pentagon to remove those huts.  The Pentagon said it would, but in usual bureaucratic style, they meant ...when we feel like it... or on our schedule, not yours.  As a result, the huts were still there after he died, but are now long gone.

Now the District is quite beautiful and must make Americans justly proud.  It is however, a fortified city.  Between every street and the sidewalks are prodigious posts every few feet,  Other places have giant planters full of heavy rocks.  Every underground parking entrance has at least two armed guards and those giant steel platforms that rise up with big dragon's teeth to prevent any intrusion.

Motorcades and their concomitant inconveniences for locals, are an accepted part of life.  One morning, President Hollande went by with at least 30 + motorcycles and vehicles.  Not long after, the Vice-president's long motorcade passed; the president's and V.P.'s always include an ambulance and a decoy limo - which Hollande's did not have.  The V.P. usually does nor go to work until after rush hour to avoid delaying traffic (they block intersections 4-5 ahead and often clear sidewalks at certain points).

Presidential helicopters can be seen frequently overhead.  There are presently 23 of them.  When the Pres. is moving, they often use up to five as decoys.

One could suggest that after 41 years in Toronto, I am tired of it.  I am appalled at the mediocrity of so much here.  Unless you are spending $200 for lunch for two, or $300 + for dinner, service is often what you would expect in a village the size of Owen sound.  It is not casual, it is sloppy, thoughtless, undisciplined, untrained, and amateurish.  The same can often be said of the food.

In Europe, even in seemingly poor places like Romania, service and food are serious matters.  In most of  New York and certainly DC, restaurants seem to actually train employees and require some class and seriousness about food and service.  Toronto seems to live life in an old T-Shirt, sweat shirt or flip flops manner.  In Toronto today, you are just a transaction, a table number, a credit card.  In both NY and DC this autumn, every single wait person looked me/us in the eyes and treated us like customers.

The lesson is - if you want fine food at moderate prices served by friendly and competent personnel, get out of Toronto, and probably Ontario.

The Top image is the Korean war memorial - which I had never seen.  It is just to the left to the Lincoln and across from the Viet Memorials.  It is life-sized soldiers carrying rifles, marching through fields.  It is v. impressive.  The day I was there, a Korean-U.S. military ceremony had just ended.  I would say about 24 or more highly decorated Korean generals and admirals walked down the path toward me.  Just to the rear, was their host, a 3 star U.S.A.F. (Lt.) general. Never in my life had I ever seen so many general staff officers in one place - even in the Air Force.

The next three photos are the "new" Canadian embassy which is directly behind the National gallery of art.  I had never seen it and was thinking it was a few years old.  That was until I looked at the cornerstone and saw that our dear Brian Mulroney blessed its opening in 1988.  It is a far more beautiful structure that the photos indicate as it would take many photos at different angles to illustrate it adequately.

The Washington monument is a standard photo.  I took it only to show what fine weather I had and also that after its earthquake damage of some years ago when it had to be largely rebuilt, it is back in full view.  Now it is the Capitol in the distance covered in scaffoling.

Istanbul, September, 2105

Entering any city with a population said to be 14 million is a prodigious exercise.  The quite new Metro, which is part subway, part surface, is packed solid even originating at the airport.  Only a sparrow could hope to board without physical contact with many (smelly) people we have yet to be introduced to.  Mouth breathing must quickly replace customary nasal efforts.  Well, the temp. was 30 C. (86 f.).  Yet, these suddenly are not the dour, grim, scowling crowds of Bucharest or Toronto.  These were mainly clearly happy people even if there physical size had been squeezed by half.

A change to a Tram was required along the way.  Their trams are new, handsome, long and run in four car trains.  I estimated that they required a 145 feet long platform - which is a lot of platform.  Yet they were also packed.  So great is the fear of being left behind when the doors inexorably close, the boarding passengers aggressively push in as the exiting passengers are attempting to depart.

By and by, we arrive at my desired stop of Sultanahmed (Sultan acchh med).  Once there I can see the Aya Sophia, and my hotel, the Hagia Sophia is within a block, but the spaces are huge and I have no idea which way to start.  Each platform has guards to be sure passengers all pay their fares.  A well dressed old man is speaking casually to one guard when I ask if they know the way to Hagia Sophia.  Well, let's see now, and I can feel the hustle coming, maybe, yes, maybe, and we go off two blocks.

The Hagia is not Four Seasons or Shangri la, but one of the best in town and famous, so old man could have said, next street left and 1.5 blocks.  On the way, nice old man says he was a large truck driver in Finland for 15 years.  One year, on a whim, he flew to Edmonton for a 10 day holiday (poor man is nuts).

We enter the hotel and as I have not yet changed money, and have only large bills in four other currencies than Turkish lira, I had old man U.S. $2.00.  He says that is not much and don't I have Euro or Lira?  No.  Somehow he leaves.  I am portered to my room.

The room is large, beautiful, has two wonderful beds and one of those current high end bathrooms with such complexity you almost need a plumbing certificate to avoid fast freezing or boiling various sensitive regions of the body.  One wall is mostly (a two-way) mirror framed over a nice desk.  The large screen tv is actually behind the vast mirror and only when you finally find a small and invisible spot on the mirror to aim the remote at, does the mirror suddenly turn into a tv.  Unfortunately, the speakers also seem to be behind the mirror, so that BBC for example, which traditionally is sound-incompetent, becomes "mummph d eawfvd e pitrvchdf" etc.  Still one can find plenty of stations in order to hear of the horrible refugee, war, and PKK news to feel like a bum for living so comfortably.

By and by, it is 5:50 a.m. and the giant speakers of 2,500 mosques in the city come roaring on with the so-called Call to prayer."  I know it well from Indonesia and Malaysia, but oh Og, the volume here is insane - as tho 14 million people must be close to stone deaf.  And bad, that wretched, grunting, wailing is most unwelcome to the Western ears three times daily. Still,it is an alarm clock.  Time to tour.

Top is Sultanahmed tram stop with tram in station, usual well-cared for stray dog in the hot sun,
Next is Aya Sophia exterior and interior.  It was a christian church for centuries, then a mosque for many more, and in 1930 turned into a museum. I thought it was more beautiful than the famous Blue Mosque. Bottom Sophia dome nearest, and Blue Mosque in distance.

You cannot help but be surprised that there are far less women covered in hijabs or chadors than in Toronto.  I think most of the ones that are covered are tourists from nearby Arab states.  We  constantly hear that Turkey is a secular state.  For the moment, it still is, all thanks to Ataturk.  In 1928, he wished to move Turkey closer to the West, and removed Islam as the state religion, made wearing the Fez unlawful, abolished polygamy, the caliphate and Sharia law, closed religious schools, and established equality for women in all matters.

You will ask why the tree minarets of the Sophia are leaning to the right, and I do not know.  It must have been the time of day or a change in gravity as it could to have been me or my fine camera. The tow middle pix are both Blue Mosque.  Curiously, the "Cat's house" is right in front of the Pierre Loti hotel, one of the nicest in the city.  It is an indication of the benign attitude of Istanbulians to animals.

You have all seen the interior of the Blue Mosque many times, so I will show you only these two shots.  The only reason I went inside was because on all the tv shots, I never was sure what supported the giant domes. In the bottom photo, you can see the huge pillars  The whole place has been renovated over the past decade and the fresco work is pretty.  It is all rather smaller than it appears on documentaries because they all use the widest angle lenses. Still, it is large.  But I think almost any major European cathedral is far more handsome.

Above, the Topkapi palace is - to me - the jewel of all the sights in Istanbul.  It is so huge as to be impossible to photograph.  At the first gate (below), some select people could enter.  But there are three more major gates, which only ambassadors and important guests were allowed in to, then even few and more rare types into the next (although executions were held at that gate and many heads were lopped off there). Finally at the last garden and gate, it was the private palace area of the Sultan(s).  It overlooked the Bosphorous and was very beautiful. Like the excessively rich of today, it had a room for everything including one for circumcision.  I didn't bother to visit it as I am horrified of ghosts from that particular region.

They city is a madhouse of commercial activity.  You have all heard of the Grand Bazaar.  It is by far the largest covered bazaar in the world.  But there are also many streets nearby that are kind of wholesalers and manufacturers doing business on the streets. Several streets are devoted to electronics (altho oddly, many man were selling Viagara and Cialis there on the streets).  One section is all leather; jackets, dresses, blocks of just belts (at 90% less than we pay here), tens of thousands of running and leather shoes stacked high on sidewalks.  Many more categories.  Big wholesale buyers from the region come in and buy, but the public also can purchase.

Food is such a big deal.  For the most part, the fresh vegetables that actually taste like the should, and the really fine cooking make almost every meal wonderful.  Then there is spectacular pastry everywhere with excellent coffee and teas.  I had a pistachio baklava which was so wonderful that I regretted eating it - it should have been kept as a treasure ! But it was also $10., which surprised me.

I like Penne aribiata sometimes as it is not too much food, but just enough.  It is always uneventful in 3rd world Toronto.  But the best I ever tasted was in Bucharest.  It was just spectacular twice and not so good at the 3rd restaurant.  In Istanbul, on the Bosphorus cruise, there was a buffet lunch, which I did not look forward to.  But I was hungry.  The chicken served ever at a buffet was the best of many chicken meals I ate - really memorable.  Lunch never seemed to cost less than $15.  But it was always good food and a lot of food.

Istanbul is great. But the Hustle is so tiresome and exhausting.  You have merchants, restaurants, beggars, and so many others howling at you every moment without respite until you can get inside a room or back to your hotel.  One beggar asked me for money for breakfast.  I knew this one I could not get rid of, so I gave him about $2.00.  He handed it back and said that was not nearly enough, he needed $15 at least.  When after several tries, I would not relent, he left shouting loudly F*** *** all the way down the block.  I thought probably $15 was the price of a heroin dose. Of the many times I was approached for money, that particular loud act happened three times.

All restaurants have a person out front loudly hawking customers in. One lunch time, I was at the intersection of three restaurants and the hawkers were absolutely each hollering at me.  It was so bad, I covered my ears and shouted to them to shut up.

Things I learned; Any person who is amused or somehow attracted to Marxist-Leninism, communism, or true, and pure socialism, is either young, unfamiliar with history, has not travelled much, or is stupid.  My trips to China, Russia, Yugoslavia (under Tito), Czechoslovakia, and the rest of the East Bloc have profoundly showed me the wreckage, the plunder, the evisceration of the human brain, spirit and creativity, all so that a man who never held employment in his lifetime (Karl Marx) and Monomaniacs like Mao, Stalin, Lenin, Trotsky, Castro and a long list of other mad dictators with little or no education and no economic knowledge, could tinker with national economies leading to hunger, starvation in the millions, human abuses of every sort, and decades of insufferable misery for innocent humans.

Hungary is not as bad as Romania and Bulgaria, but all the East bloc nations are about 40 years behind the rest of the world and largely unprepared for commerce and absolutely Saharas of any form of creativity.  They have the 18th and 19th centuries under their belts and nothing else to refer to in music, art, design etc. And I do mean Nothing (unless as in China, "shopping" and "eating" are somehow cultural achievements).

Second, the motor vehicle is king.  Anything with an engine dominates our lives and will probably bring life on this planet to an end sooner rather than later.  that includes jet engines unfortunately.

Third, Advertising is insanely out of control.  It is so ubiquitous and tiresome and assaults the senses relentlessly.  There is no escape from it other than finding a forest asap.

This may sound selfish as I have had the gift of visiting more than 50 countries now.  But I think no matter about the temptation to travel far away, try to find a nice car trip.  Avoid the insane airports, crowded planes, the rental cars and the costs and at least most of the time, go back to the great old car trip.