Share a magic moment from your European travels!

Hank, I love your story! And your writing is beautiful!

I think my most magical moment was in Turkey. I was on my way to Fethiye and had gotten used to the Turkish bus system. However, this particular bus was not the typical luxury bus with movies and lean-back seats. On the contrary, the windshield had several cracks and newspaper lined the aisles. I gamely got on and sat down, however, and we were soon on our way. The bus was fairly empty at first but as it wound its way through the scenic mountains and valleys, it made periodic stops at small villages. The local villagers piled on at each stop bringing an array of assorted belongings with them. One man had 2 huge bags of oranges that must have weighed 50 lbs. each. At any moment, I expected to see livestock being herded on board.

The empty seat next to me was soon taken by a shriveled old woman wearing the typical cotton scarf, sweater, cardigan and Turkish pants. She told me (by pointing to her teeth) that she was going to the dentist in Fethiye, a distance of some 80 km away. She grinned at my feeble attempts to speak Turkish and then started rooting around in her purse, a large beat-up red leather bag stamped “Gucci.” Eventually, she pulled out a plastic bag containing a mixture of unknown nuts and golden raisins. She pulled open my hand and dumped a pile into it, indicating that I was to eat them.

Ignoring the thoughts of wanton bacteria running amuck, I gamely ate the mixture. We were pals after that and she would occasionally chatter away to me, notwithstanding the fact that I had no idea what she was saying. I just smiled away, which seemed to be enough of a response for her. We eventually parted ways at the bus stop in Fethiye and she gave me a huge hug as we left. As I made my way to the hotel, I reflected on meeting this woman and how I wouldn’t have missed this bus trip for the world. To me, this is what traveling was all about.

Many years ago on my first trip to Italy we spent a couple of days in Venice where it happened to fit into our schedule. On our second night we were told "There will be fireworks you should go to the water by the Piazza San Marco if you are interested."
What I didn't know was that we happened to be in town for the The Feast of the Redeemer and what were described as "some fireworks" was actually the canal filled with hundreds of lighted boats and an hour plus long fireworks display in which every moment seemed like the big finale moment but over and over again.

Watching the endless fireworks sitting on the marble docks just in front the Dodge's Palace off the Grand Canal and then wandering - dazzled and overwhelmed - through Pizza San Marco and off into the Venice night with groups of people signing different celebrating and singing songs and laughing was one of those moments.

=Tod

Our flight to Athens arrived late, after dark. We asked our hotel’s front desk where we could get something to eat was told to go to their rooftop bar. We went up to the top floor and walked outside to see the lighted Pantheon on the Acropolis which took our breath away.
A woman following us in yelled “ What is that thang?”, thus adding an ugly American story to our first night in Athens.

What hotel was it, Suki?

It was one of the Divani Hotels.

Years ago when I was in my early 20’s, I travelled by myself in Italy for the first time. I was on the train from Florence to Siena gazing at the fields of red poppies and feeling rather alone, when the conductor got back on the train after a stop and presented me with a poppy. It was such a lovely moment, he was so sweet and charming and it set me up to have the most magical time in Siena.

My first solo trip was to Europe that began in Venice. I took an overnight train to Vienna and was nervous about arriving around 4a during the month of Nov and making my way to my B&B. I knew I needed to catch a bus to get to the neighborhood where I was sleeping but had no idea what corner to wait for the bus. An elderly man who appeared out of no-where who looked like my great Uncle Steve who was deceased and from Austria appeared out of no-where and spoke American English said I needed to cross the street. After I crossed the street a bus pulled up and stopped to let me on. I told the driver where I was going and he dropped me off and told me which way to turn when I got off. It was magic!

Not sure I can define them as magical but memorable.

Was with my partner Bill who had never been to London. Took the tube to Westminster where I knew enough to exit out onto the Thames River path in order to surprise him.

When you take that exit the river cruise dock is in front when you walk out….He asked “ is that The Thames?” “ Yes.” He grinned.

Just then Big Ben tolled. I turned him to see Elizabeth’s Tower. “ Did you plan this?” “
“No but I’m darn well going to take credit.” I grinned.

Second fun memorable moment was on that same trip. On Christmas day we were strolling in Hyde Park. I was wearing fuzzy reindeer antlers on my head ( bought at the 99 cent store in LA) cuz that’s my sense of humor. An impeccably dressed older couple ( in Camel hair coats and perfectly creased slacks) were ahead. As they passed the woman said aloud “ bloody brilliant “ and smiled. I nodded and smiled back.

And now that I think about it I had no clue that the Eiffel Tower lit up at night. This was in the early 90’s. Was staying in Rue Cler at the Hotel Muget. Had gone to dinner with friends across the river. Was strolling back across the Pont de L’alma bridge as darkness set.

Stopped dead in my tracks. Oh my!

Hank,what an absolutely beautiful story, told very well.

Claudia - love that magic moment you darn sure created for your partner !

Oh, fun to read!

We were in Granada, waiting outside the flamenco place for the show to start in a line that went up the street. My son is special needs and was sitting in his stroller. We had been there maybe 10/15 minutes when the owner of the sundries shop across the street came out with a Lionel Messi hat (Messi was still with Barcelona at the time) and gave it to my son for his "patience in waiting." She was lovely, and just one more in a long line of Spaniards who have been kind to my son over our several trips (including all the waiters who have high-fived him when he says "hola" and "gracias").

Of course, my son had/has no idea who Lionel Messi is, but luckily enough, it was/is my son-in-law's absolute favorite player (he is a soccer nut), and we gifted the gift forward when we got home.

Deb, your story mad me smile.

My most magical travel moment didn't involve me being the traveller. I was the one left at home studying for university exams. My boyfriend of only a few weeks rang me from a pay phone in New York and I heard cabs honking their horns in the background. He said he had deliberately found a phone booth on Broadway so I could feel like I was on the trip too. In that moment I knew he was a keeper. We will be celebrating our 36 year anniversary later this year.

Schlepping off the plane from our overnight flight to Zürich, my wife and I collected our bags, got the rental car and set off to find her ancestral home in Switzerland. Armed with a photo we parked at the village post office and trudged up and down the streets to find the house to match. Without success we approached a gentleman repairing his fence and in our finest bad German asked if he recognized the house and could direct us. He did and we were soon parked in front of her family homestead taking pictures. Just then the owner drove up and asked if we would like to come in! My wife's feet didn't touch the ground as she entered the house her family had left 400 years before.

My partner & I went to NYC on a whim in April of last year. Didn't have anything planned. We saw a cookie maker on the Today show & booked a trip.We went out to Statue of Liberty & Ellis Island. My Grandfather came through Ellis Island from Scotland. as we are arriving there are a set of bagpipers in the yard before entering the building. Brought me to tears knowing that Grandpa trod thesame ground almost a hundred years ago. I walked out and asked their clan. (I forget now) and thanked them.

I also walked upon a bagpiper busking on the Royal Mile.That also brought out the tears.

I was alone in Villefranche sur mer (just off a cruise ship) recovering from a sleepless night of severe food poisoning and feeling terribly sorry for myself that I was missing out on my one day in Nice. All the activities and food and fun!

Then, I started walking. I found a fresh baguette, took the most awe inspiring photos of the most breathtaking views and buildings and plants. I explored random corners and places I’d never have taken the time to otherwise. I sat and drank water and listened to people pass by. I enjoyed sounds of the ocean and my humble snack and had the absolute best 1/2 day doing absolutely nothing.

It was on this day I learned to save space in my travels to throw out the guidebook and explore, slow down, and just savor the “not worth your time” cities. Sometimes those are the very best!!!

Its hard to pin down one as the best; okay, maybe not as there was something on my last trip that I will never forget but dont know how to explain it in context so I will keep the secret memory.

The moment that most changed my life: As predicted, he pulled to the side along a deserted stretch of road and ordered us out of the car.  We did as directed.  Then he demanded we turn with our backs to the car.  I was beginning to judge distances, watching his hand movements for a weapon and sizing up the options to fight back or flee.  Now before I can explain what came next you have to know where we were, this was the outlook over the city from Gellert Hill near the Citadella.   My mouth fell open.  I stared like in a trance and all the events and worries of the last 15 minutes left my heart.  Looking straight ahead I told my wife; we are coming back. She responded. we just arrived. I knew, at that moment that 5 days would not even scratch the surface and that we were starting a new period in our lives.  That was the first hour of my first trip to Budapest in 2003; I now have a home in Budapest.

Usually the moments that stick with me are the little connections with people I meet along the way; Mykhailo the pilot that let me fly his plane (for 30 seconds), spoke no english but laughed hysterically at my panic when he let go of the controls.

The house of worship where, as a guest of a different faith, I was still given the honor to hold and carry the Torah.

Walking into a wine bar that I had visited a number of times and finding that the staff had placed my name on the bar above "my" barstool as a way of saying goodbye; then to return 3 months later and find the name still there.

Sticking my head in another wine bar on my way home (yes, i spend a lot of time in bars) to say good night at closing time only to be pulled in behind a locked door to sit with the staff and sample a couple of bottles of very good wine they had discovered in the basement.

Morning gin and coffee (yes a trend is emerging) with a somewhat elderly Ukrainian refugee who was staying in the flat adjacent to mine,. He spoke no English and I spoke no Russian but we communicated brilliantly.

A year ago I would have said Christmas Mass in a small church on Red Square but now the memory only brings pain.

The first time (and only time) I had a Danube Salmon on my hook the fight was long and magnificent; but I lost.

Each and every day and night I spent with my daughter in Europe.

I have really enjoyed reading these posts! My favorite moment was a story our Greece tour guide told us in the bus of our RS tour. The whole bus burst out laughing and it was a wonderful shared moment among tour members.

Not really magical , but unexpected and delightful.
My friend and I were in Lucca, and we came around a corner by the Duomo to hear what sounded like a nest of angry wasps.
Then, around the next corner came a huge procession of vintage scooters: Vespas and Piaggi among others.
Some were really ancient, some had sidecars...all had happy riders hooting and hollering and waving and laughing as they went by.
When they got closer, they sounded like a train of sputtering sewing machines going by.
There must have been about three hundred of them!
We loved it all and laughed and waved along with others who had gathered to watch.

EVERY time I emerge from the Venezia Santa Lucia rail station to see the Grand Canal.

Magical.
Spine tingling.

EVERY time.

These were all so much fun to read, thanks. The last one made me question taking a boat from the Venice airport to the center next summer. It is plenty spectacular walking out of the train station :)

@Hank
I'm debating just the reverse.

I'm hoping to take my children and their spouses to Italy, including Venice.

I've seriously considered making our way "into town" from the airport via private boat to make it special.

If I do, I KNOW I will sorely miss that first glimpse, seeing the Grand Canal just beyond the vaporetto ticket kiosks

What a great idea to share magic moments! My first ever trip to Europe was with a high school group, and we started in Cinque Terre. After a long day and night of trains from Amsterdam, I remember stepping out of the train station in Riomaggiore and being completely blown away by how beautiful it was. One of our days was spent hiking the trail from Riomaggiore to Vernazza, taking in the stunning views, and then rewarding ourselves with a swim and gelato.

Fast forward to more than 20 years later to the the summer of 2021: my husband and I traveled to Europe with our 2 kids, with our first stop being Cinque Terre. We spent one day hiking from Corniglia to Monterrosso, and stopped along the way for fresh lemon granitas. The views were stunning, the weather just right, and I remember thinking that it was a "pinch me" moment to be sharing a special place with my family.

After thinking about this question for a number of days I have to add:

On my first trip to Europe I was with my then boyfriend. He was on a business trip for his father’s company.

He’d go to meetings everyday and I’d explore on my own. Sometimes he’d travel ahead and I join him later. That happened in Munich. I found the Munich train station visually interesting and as I meandered there was a group of students who suddenly broke into I’d Like To Teach The World to Sing ( yes, the Coca Cola song) . In an odd commercialized way it was magical.

EDIT:
Must be brain dead as THE most magical moment ever in all my trips was walking solo on the Gap of Dunloe. It was a November and the red, gold and yellow hues of the foliage in the sun light were gorgeous. Especially because that sunlight and patch of blue sky was against the grey and nearly jet Black thunderstorm clouds in the distance. The pictures I took on that trek I entered into local photography contest. One won!

I've been traveling to Europe for 52 years, and that first trip was going to Summer School at the University of Innsbruck.

At the end of our trip, we were on a bus for a sunset tour of the Vienna Woods. After weeks of riding Tirolean buses playing polka radio music, on comes Porter Wagoner and Dolly Parton singing "Forty Miles to Poplar Bluff." As a native Nashvillian, that song showed that the world is not that large. I grew up with Dolly's husband's family.

Another highlight was my wife unknowingly breeching security at the Charles De Gaulle Airport and their emptying out two planes and the entire airport concourse including all luggage.

We had a great night at Hofbrauhaus in Munich back when the locals would spend the night sharing snuff and locking elbows and rocking to oompah music. Buy one round of beer (en masse) and that was the last money you'd spend. We no longer feel secure when visiting large German beer halls.

Great stories!

My magic travel moment is all about a Hühnergott (Chicken God) - these are stones with a natural hole and you can find them for example at the beaches of the Baltic Sea. Finding one brings you luck.

I was taking photos at the beach of Kühlungsborn and from afar I saw a women walking allong the beach with her head down. She apparently was searching for something. When she was coming closer I've asked her 'are you searching for Chicken Gods?'. 'Yes' she said 'I am addicted finding them'. I was wishing her a nice evening and of course success.

Maybe 15 minutes later, I completely forgot about her, she was coming back with a very nice Chicken God in her hand. She gave it to me as a present and with the words 'may your life be always full of luck' she walked away. I only managed to say thanks but actually I wanted to say so much more because she really touched my heart.

The Chicken God has the right size to wear it on a necklet and whenever I'm wearing it I think about this magic moment.

I nearly broke my arm hopping onto the Metro in Paris as the door was closing.

Lovely Mignon, my favorite so far!

BigMike is the magic that your arm didn't break the metro?

This story happens in Vernazza (Cinque Terre), we entered a cave that had a red sign on a pole at the entrance, clearly Do Not Enter. I am a rules girl and said No way when my husband insisted that we follow all the other people obviously ignoring the warning. I decided to be daring and followed him in to discover the most interesting cave which led to a small, beautiful beach with houses perched above the rock wall. There were about 20 people of all nationalities enjoying the area milling about. My husband decided to video record the crashing waves and just the scene in general. He positioned himself next to a huge rock that was about 15 feet high and blocking the waves, well one crashed over the rock and right onto him. There were audible gasps in the crowd, you could hear "ohhh nooo", someone shouted "la machina" I looked at them and said "si, la machina...y mi esposo". My husband emerged soaked and shaking his head and laughing and said "did you see that"...the crowd laughed along with him, all relived that he was ok. The video camera not so much. But just having a bunch of strangers, different ages, cultures, seasons of their life, different reasons for being on that beach all having a shared experience and sharing a lighthearted kinda wacky moment is what travel is all about to me, the unknown and unplanned moments. We had to visit a little shop, get him a corny "Cinque Terre" t-shirt (which he still wears to this day and holds a special memory) and sat on a rock wall by the beach attempting to dry out the camera hoping he had not destroyed the memory card that held the previous 5 days of the trip. The camera and memory card did recover and served us for the rest of the trip.

In early May 2017 we day-tripped to Ravello from Positano with my HS BF and her husband. For some reason my friend decided to check if there were any events that day. There was a performance in a church by a string quartet, so we bought tickets when we arrived in Ravello. The concert was held in a small church and included two Beethoven string quartets. We were in the second row and the concert was excellent!

What a wonderful thread! And everyone's replies are so interesting!

Last May we visited Greece and had several magical moments/evenings. One evening while staying in Nafplio, after having ice cream, we happened to walk through Syntagma Square on our way back to our hotel. This was a Saturday night and it was like a block party! Families were here socializing with their friends; little children were riding their bikes and scooters, playing ball, blowing bubbles, and playing with glow in the dark toys. There was a small band playing music. It was very noisy, fun, and very festive! We walked through here again on a weeknight, and it was eerily quiet. This is obviously a Saturday night event, most likely every Saturday night during the warm weather.

On this same trip, we visited Naxos. One day we rented a car and visited several mountain villages that were on our "to visit" list. Then we accidentally made a wrong turn, and ended up on a narrow, serpentine road surrounded by olive groves with the Aegean Sea down below. We ended up at the fishing village of Moutsouna that had only 3 fish tavernas. We knew instantly this is where we were having lunch whether we were hungry or not. We ate at the Fish Net, located about a foot from the water. Ordered fried shrimp, grilled squid and grilled drunk fish! The setting was like heaven and the food was delicious! One of the best days of our trip.

One year, while traveling through Andalusia, we spent 2 nights in Cordoba and had a magical evening here, too. We walked across the Roman Bridge at night, turned around and saw the illuminated Mezquita. Just magical! Again, this was a Saturday night, and there were many Spanish families strolling along the bridge with their young children riding bikes and eating ice cream. Another family event - the Saturday evening stroll on the Roman Bridge.

kmkwoo- your story in Naxos reminds of a saying I have when we travel "we are not lost..we are exactly where we were meant to be".
Rome- We were wondering around at night and stumbled upon an outdoor children's movie playing on a large screen, no grass to sit on just family with blankets spread out on the ground enjoying the movie. We sat for a while and enjoyed the children's laughter and vibe of the event. We have similar event on our town during the summer but all very organized with lawn chairs and families bringing dinner, so reminded us of home and how we all enjoy an evening under the stars with our families.

It was my first time visit at the Christmas market at the Marienplatz in Munich. Actually, my first Christmas market anywhere in Europe. Now you must know I have a "thing" for glass Christmas ornaments. I have hundreds, okay maybe a couple thousand. I was standing in front of a stall of glass ornaments. Apparently I looked enchanted, which I was. A well-dressed man who to me appeared wealthy says to me, "It's beautiful, isn't it." I have no idea what came from my mouth as a reply. But I know I said something. This was an experience that I will never forget. A truly magical moment in a magical place.

I have so enjoyed every story posted here! Thank you, Hank, for posting the question. There have been several magical moments in my travels but the first one I thought of happened a few years ago when I was on the Rick Steves 7 day Istanbul city tour. We were scheduled to visit St George’s Cathedral, seat of the Patriarch of Constantinople for centuries. When we arrived, our guide went inside the church to let them know we had arrived for our tour. She returned with a huge smile on her face and the word that the current Patriarch happened to be visiting that day, liked Americans and would like to meet us. The Patriarch of Constantinople (a title I was not familiar with) was defined by our guide as comparable to the Roman Catholic Pope. He was so charming and his English was perfect. He spoke with us for quite a while and allowed a group photo to be taken with him. For me, this was not just serendipity but a magical moment .

Hank, mostly embarrassing. Free comedy for the French commuters. "Hey, look at the stupid American!"

Years ago the rental car GPS went kaput as we were trying to find our bed and breakfast in Galway. We must have driven in circles for at least an hour as I asked various people where this place was. Another proud moment for America.

Met our VRBO owner in Le Marais and I tried practicing the French I'd worked on for months. He laughed at responded in English for the rest of the conversation. I wondered why I spent so much time failing to learn French.

Woke up early before the wife in Paris. Walked around and got lost. Ended up asking trash collectors where our apartment was, which apparently was quite hilarious. One of them pointed at me and the others started laughing. By pure luck I stumbled back upon the street where we were staying. I was close to panicking as I had no phone with me and spoke comically incoherent French.

Went three stops the wrong way on the Underground before I looked up at the map and realized something was wrong. My wife said the look upon my face as it dawned on me was priceless.

Hank, thanks for this excellent subject! My memorable “magic moment” was on our first trip to Italy (Tuscany/Umbria). We took a guided tour through a local tour company near Seattle. Our tour guide was Italian. Upon our introduction she said she was born in Genoa with family connections in Gubbio. At our group introduction she said our tour was going to take a detour and we would not be stopping in Deruta. She said, instead, “I will be taking you to my home in Gubbio.” When we arrived in Gubbio our tour bus stopped in the Piazza Della Signoria. What we didn’t know was our guides home was her ancestral palace- Palazzo Ranghiasci. Our guide inherited the palace’s “noble floor” from her grandfather, Marquis of Gubbio. There are 10 reception rooms on the noble floor. We were all stunned! Unbelievable. We were invited to stay for a wonderful lunch in the Grand Dining Room and toured each room and Palace garden. We also did a walking tour of wonderful Gubbio.

The story didn’t end in Italy. When we returned home to the Pacific NW we gave a trip report to some friends. We mentioned our guide was a Countess & she was married to an American. Our friend said, hmmm, “my cousin from Oregon married a Countess from Gubbio!” Talk about a serendipitous moment! It was her cousin, and the rest is history. We are still in contact with this lovely woman. She now lives part-time in Portland, Ore. and Italy.

The year I backpacked around world I was staying in Blois and decided to walk to Chambord chateau — guidebook said it was 6 miles. I’d been walking for more than 2 hours on an October day and chateau was still nowhere in sight. Turned out it was almost 10 (I was used to walking long distances, but I needed energy to explore the chateau and grounds, too) and I’d planned on walking back, too. As I neared steps of chateau, an older British couple approached: “Goodness, dear, we’re so sorry! We drove past you a few miles back and I told my husband to stop and see if you needed a ride!” They continued to apologize for not giving me a ride and I assured them I was fine.
Three hours later as I exited chateau, I decided to see if I could find a bus. But before I knew it, the British woman popped up and said she had been waiting/watching for me to offer to drive me back to the hostel in Blois. Stunned, I gratefully accepted. She ushered me into their camper van and invited me to first join them for soup and homemade bread … I remember almost crying because I was so touched by their kindness and generosity.
This … THIS is why I travel.

Beautiful Shelly! Thanks so much

Meg, I am with you on Cinque Terre.

I am not a religious person, but the day we walked from Riomaggiore to Vernazza - with lunch in Corniglia - was the day I died and went to heaven.

A second magical experience began the night we emerged from the Metro in Milan, near Piazzale Loreto. Six streets converging in one intersection. I knew we need to go east to our hotel; I just didn't know where east was.

A couple came up to us and asked if we were lost. In a reversal of stereotype, my wife said no and I said yes. This couple was also walking east to their apartment, so we spent ten or fifteen minutes together as we all headed east.

They asked if we were familiar with Piano City that was happening in Milan, that weekend, No, we weren't. Thanks to them, we spent a fair bit of the next two days listening to jazz and classical piano performances outdoors in a park - for free - on a beautiful weekend in May. Belissimo!

An absolutely magical, dramatic, emotional, and stunning moment I would say was in Aug. 1977 , my first time to the Chateau de Fontainebleau as a full day's trip by train from Paris.

Warsaw, June 2004. We were visiting the university and came across the choir having their end of year rehearsal. Stopped to listen, and ended up invited to their end of year picnic/BBQ. We spent hours with these happy, optimistic young people sharing their beautiful Polish food with us. They wanted to speak English, and at 34 we weren't entirely old folks, so they were falling over each other to speak with us. It really was a magical evening.

Back in the late 90’s, my sister married a man from the UK. A year or two after their wedding they welcomed their first son, and decided to return to my brother- in-laws family home in Wales to baptize him. It was November and it was so cold outside, but in the little medieval church it was warm and cozy, and yes, magical observing an ancient tradition in such an awesome setting.
Afterwards, back at the house, it was great fun getting to know all the new Welsh and Irish relatives!

I'm not sure this qualifies as a magical moment based on my definition, but it was a deeply personal moment in 2018 when we took my Mother-in-Law to England to meet some cousins she'd never met. One of our stops was her father's hometown of Brighlingsea. I didn't realize how much this trip meant to her until we made a stop at the cemetery where her grandparents were buried-she had never met them either. The emotion she showed was enough to make the entire trip worthwhile.

I am really enjoying reading each person’s wonderful experiences! Thank you, Hank, for starting this post!

So many wonderful magic moments have occurred during travels, so I will just share a couple.

This happened in an unlikely location - the Tours, France Train Station in 2019. When I retired in 2018, I set several personal goals; one was playing Rachmaninov’s Piano Concerto #2. This is what I wrote about it in a trip report:

Bridging Language Barriers - although I studied French this past year on Duolingo, etc. my pronunciations and vocabulary are elementary. This morning I had two wonderful experiences made through the language of music. Arriving early at the Tours train station, I walked over to the piano and started playing. (I’ve played for 55 years.) A young man immediately walked over. He enthusiastically said “Rachmaninov, Concerto No. 2”! (This is a concerto I have been working on this past year) I asked if he played, and he was SO pleased when I appreciated his talent and kept asking him to play a few more. He’s studying music at the university.
After we parted, I still had some extra time, so I walked back over to the piano and played a French composer and then finished with a short passage of the Rachmaninov again. When I finished, a very senior woman slowly walked over to me with a big smile, speaking in French. I smiled and said “Desole, American”. She glowed, “Rachmaninov!”
So, I’ll probably never perform that concerto with an orchestra in the US, but on that day, it brightened three people’s lives in France.

That experience surpassed my original goal. : )

This second one was a magical moment with my husband. I’ve been traveling solo to Europe for a few years - previously my husband always came with me. The last time I was in France, he decided that he would plan to join me for my last week there. We had eastern France & Paris planned for that week. The moment we saw each other at the Paris train station to go to Nancy, France together is one I will always remember- the excitement & the fact that he made all of the connections! We have such a nice time traveling together, and that one was extra special.

Each trip has special magical moments - the sites, the smells (amazing gardens), the tastes (yum!), the worshipful time I spend in churches. And the people I meet during each trip - the unexpected connections, are truly memorable & magical!

Last time in Munich, I was taking pictures of the barman do his thing and he invited me to tap one of the wooden beer kegs. That was a fun “honor”

I had my credit card eaten by an ATM in Paris. Fortunately I had another one.

I got sick as a dog at Oktoberfest when I tried to keep up with the Germans. They were still going strong as I staggered out to my fate.

Big Mike, if those are your magic moments and hate to know what the rest of the trips were like. 😆

Hmm. I’ve been thinking about this and I have two to share:

Meeting my very good friend in Paris at the end of my Southern Italy trip. She was on a group Paris city tour with a friend from Chicago and when I found out her plans, I added 3 nights to my trip and said “Let’s meet up in Paris”. One very clear evening, on the spur of the moment, she and I enjoyed a VERY expensive champagne cocktail at the top of Montparnasse Tower watching the Eiffel Tower sparkle. Just magical!

While staying at a hostel at Lago Trasimeno in Umbria, on a beautiful sunny morning, I borrowed one of the hostel’s bicycles and rode along the lakeside, passing small fields of wild red poppies. Beautiful

I purchased a painting of the Umbrian countryside with a field of poppies from a street artist in Assisi as a reminder of that moment. And often when I have a glass of champagne, I think of our time at the top of Montparnasse.

Back in 2016, we visited Amsterdam and Paris, with a brief visit (just between trains) to Brussels. On moving day half-way through our trip, we had breakfast on a canal in Amsterdam, lunch a few blocks off Grand-Place in Brussels, and dinner at a cafe on Ile Saint-Louis in Paris. When we were walking around Paris that night after dinner, we felt so lucky to be able to experience so much in our travels - that realization was the magic moment.

Another magic moment in 2018. My favorite European town- Ljubljana, Slovenia. There is nothing more magical than strolling at night. We walked outside of Ljubljana’s pedestrian zone to the Nebotičnik Skyscraper. We took the elevator to the Top Terrace. The view looked back at the town with stunning views of the Castle and Julian Alps. Ahhh. We were at the Castle another night, so it was nice to have different perspectives. A fairytale experience. https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=&ved=2ahUKEwj134zP7vn8AhV1J30KHYYQAMIQFnoECA4QAQ&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.visitljubljana.com%2Fen%2Fpoi%2Fskyscraper%2F&usg=AOvVaw2hGKvcuQgkHLWJceaEsRfO

Although not exactly magical, it sure was different and fun. My son and I were in a town in Central Italy population about 25,000. We were walking around in the late afternoon looking for a place to have dinner that evening. While standing in front of a restaurant window perusing the menu, a young man (who looked so much like Hugh Grant) pulled up on his bicycle, and invited us to have dinner at his (that) restaurant that evening as they were having a special event with special food and wine tasting from local vineyards. And, the local television station would be there reporting on this event and they could use an outsider’s opinion of the food and the wine. Yes! We said. We would be happy to help out.
So, we enjoyed an absolutely delicious meal and wonderful wines, and were indeed interviewed by the reporters from the local TV station, one of which was our host where we were staying. He was sure surprised to see us.

Rachele, What a wonderful story! It IS magical! Sounds like a lot of fun!

Here's another, call it a scenic train ride ;)

The summer when my daughter had just turned 11, mom was terribly busy with long term projects and work and could only cut out 10 days for Europe (with much time spent working too unfortunately). So girl and I headed over ahead of mom to ride bicycles in the Netherlands for a week. She's definitely her mom's girl, so it was great to get her to myself for a week.

We rented a tandem bike in Leiden and rode a big loop toward Utrecht down to Den Bosch and through the Green Heart. We missed mom but it was an amazing journey filled with beautiful days and cozy evenings just the two of us. Petting sheep, wandering into quiet country churches, sharing french fries, testing out every playground along the way.

After the bike was returned we boarded a train to Paris to meet mom. My girl fell asleep with her head in the crook of my shoulder as the countryside whizzed past. Looking down at her in that moment I was overcome by emotion almost as strong as seeing her born. Here was this beautiful kid in the very last throws of the golden period of childhood. In a few months she'd walk into a middle school and everything would change. This feeling had been visceral under the surface of the trip, like we both knew this was a warm goodbye to an amazing era. I was so thankful for our special time together, but also a little sad. Had to dab my eyes a bit on that train trip.

Things would turn teenage soon enough and what had seamlessly meshed would need recalibration. It was great to meet mom in Paris, but in retrospect I could not be more happy to have decided to travel with just my daughter at this critical juncture. Probably the best travel choice I've made, and certainly great use of the privilege of a trip to Europe.

Thats a very touching story Hank. Glad you experienced that. And it's a reminder to me that some travel experiences can't be hyper-planned out, or reserved 6 months ahead of time. You just go with the flow and who knows what you might experience.

Hank, that’s a beautifully magic moment. I have shared some solo trips with my children individually and my eyes teared up remembering those. Thank you for posting.

The military gave me a career and travel that was memorable, exciting, tense, sad and excruciating. Decades ago I was on the final leg of a Pacific trip headed eastbound towards Norton AFB in California and woke up to a lighter color sky peering through small windows. Went up to the flight deck and saw a sunrise that I still talk about almost 40 years later. It was a memory that required only my eyes and to be droning over the Pacific.

In Europe…..discovering a home on the internet that was in Normandie, visiting it and 4 months later owning it and finally sitting on the patio with near perfect silence. That was 10 years ago…..still can’t get over it.

My first real Easter Week procession in Zaragosa was way beyond anything I could have imagined. On Holy Thursday, they had 26 processions - done by the equivalent of Elks club groups - that went from early afternoon to nearly dawn the next morning. A highlight of the year for these clubs are these processions.

The first one I saw was a group of probably two thousand people; the vast majority playing one of three different sizes drums. It started with about 500 drummers playing on one side of the square, then another 500 drummers on the other side of the square would answer. Back and forth for 15 minutes or so. Then the procession starts. Similarly dressed men, women, and children start down the road. Some carrying crosses, some candles, some incense burners or other relics.

A word on their costumes. Americans would see their costumes as KKK (but colorful, not white). They're based on the Penitent outfits from the Spanish Inquisition (I have no idea how or why the KKK adopted a similar design).

The floats are the stations of the cross. Depending on the club, some floats are on wheels and pushed, others are carried on shoulders.

The last "float" of every procession is a mourning mother, Mary. She wears a traditional black Spanish mourning dress and lace veil with a comb holding it above her head. Behind the float were about a hundred women, also wearing their traditional Spanish mourning costume.

Sevilla has similar processions that are famous from (I believe) Steinbeck's books. Sevilla gets all the tourists. Zaragosa and Valdepenas are known for their major processions throughout Spain, but not internationally so it's a very local event.

Between processions, everyone stops into a pub or cafe for a drink and a snack.

While in Arles in May, we rented bicycles to pedal to the Camargue National Park. Prior research had stated flamingos come from Africa to breed in the Park, which is the Rhone River delta. We didn't know where to go, so we just pedaled South. Finally, there were flamingos flying over us. They look like golf clubs with wings. But we couldn't see any on the ground. As we were paralleling a dike, I stood up on the bicycle and suddenly there they were on the other side. In a few low places we could see over the dike without standing. But autos were a head lower than ours, and they never had a chance to see them.

I don’t know if this is magic, but it makes me laugh every time I think of it.

We were on a tour of Southern Spain in June, of course everywhere we went was crazy hot.

In Seville we had tickets to a flamenco show. We get there and are on the front row right at the stage.

“Wow, wow would you look at these amazing seats!” Well, once they got started, the guy was sweating profusely, and every twirl pelted us with his sweat! We were bobbing and weaving.

But that dancing and ambiance was amazing.

Looking over Florence from Michaelangelo Park, watching the sky go from twilight to dark. It wasn't a fancy thing . . . . just my husband, daughter and I taking in a beautiful moment together after a long walk uphill to get there. The war in Ukraine was only in its first month and one of the buildings was lit up blue and yellow. We ran into a fellow American who had gotten separated from her group and she asked to walk back to the city with us. It was such a low key yet amazing experience.

Twenty three years ago we took our first trip to Europe. In Venice, on Christmas Eve, we attended a candlelight vespers mass at St. Marks. Then we wandered some of the canals and found a lone gondolier. We took a lovely ride, and never saw another gondola. We felt like celebrities as we cruised the Grand Canal and everyone took our picture. At midnight the church bells rang throughout the city. It was quite a magical evening.

In 2006 our German family told us to avoid Germany until after the World Cup was over. So, my wife and I decided to travel in Italy beforehand. At home I would have to go to a Mexican restaurant to watch a football game. I loved that the games were so easy to watch. I would sidle over to where a TV was on, like the hotel manager's room and watch a game. It was exciting at a youth hostel to watch games with a worldwide variety of spectators.
However, our Wow moment was in San Gimignano. The central square in front of the church was the location of the weekly outdoor movie. We were there on the day of the Final Game, France v Itay. We asked where to watch the game and were told it would be on the big screen in the square. We had an early dinner and got good seats. Most places closed early. There were some Americans walking around grumbling about places not being open, unaware of the significance of the night. A giant Italian flag hung from a building.
Almost all of the audience were Italians, locals I assume. But next to us was a French family of 4. The father and son proudly held a French flag, while the daughter and mother tried to be invisible. It was such a good game that ended at 1-1. There was a lot of partying and firecrackers when Italy won the penalty shoot-out. I like to think there was free gelato afterwards.
EDITED TO ADD: In San Gimignano our room was facing the inside of the city walls, away from the street. So once in our room, we didn't hear much noise to keep us awake. The night Italy won the semi- final, there was 1 car driving around honking it's horn all night that kept us awake. It was too hot to not keep the hostel window open. They must have been the only Italians in Brussels that night.

Back in 2001 we went to London and attended the Ceremony of the Keys. There is something about seeing the Yeoman walking round with lantern and being one of the few at the Tower and it felt like we could be back in the 1600s. The best part was it was Bonfire night and so we saw fireworks from the various celebrations in London. It felt so magical and was well worth the time and effort to go find Postal Coupons.

Another magical moments. Taking my dad to Paris and staying in an apartment near the Arc. If we walked a few streets, uphill we could see the Eiffel Tower sparkingly and the light show. It was a nightly occurrence and very cool.

Finally, my first view of the stained glass at Sainte Chapelle. After finding the rather nondescript building and see the "commoners" chapel, I was rather grumpy. Not to mention the half hour wait standing on stairs. I complained to my mom that I didn't understand what all the fuss was about. Finally, they let my mom inside the chapel and I heard her "oh wow!". I stepped over the threshold, looked up and was immediately speechless. It was worth the wait with the sun shining in.

I’m struck by how many of these wonderful stories are magical or special because of the kindness of someone who reached out, helped, stepped in, offered something etc. Kindness. Something we can all pass on to others in our own travels and to those we come across every day at home. It seems to be a game changer. 😊

We were tying to get to The Rotunda, in Italy, the inspiration for many USA buildings, as i am an amateur architect. We had no real plan for this day, aside from "take a train there," and then figure it out. We get off the train, and only have very sketchy ideas of what we are doing. We do know we have to take a certain bus. On entering said bus, we say we want to see the Rotunda. Where do we get off? We got to sit in the front seats, so I got to talk to the driver about why it was important to see this place. The Bus Driver did something very odd here. He understood the entire history of the Rotunda and how it influenced other western buildings. He said, "I will take care of you." To us this was a very strange thing to hear. But he did stop the bus, right where we needed, and said, I will pick you up here in three hours, if you are here, it costs no more, on this ticket. You have to walk up this street to the house your are looking for. And he pointed to the street, we should walk up. So we saw the Rotunda, and the next door House of the Dwarfs. And sure enough, we were picked up by the same driver back, and we told him how beautiful it all was to experience this. Being the Ugly American, I wanted to give him a tip. But he couldn't take it because he said it was illegal to do so, and he LOVED his job.

I hope everyone gets moments like this. If you are respectful, Italians will go to extraordinary means to SHOW you something.

+1 to Beth

I’m struck by how many of these wonderful stories are magical or
special because of the kindness of someone who reached out, helped,
stepped in, offered something etc. Kindness. Something we can all pass
on to others in our own travels and to those we come across every day
at home. It seems to be a game changer. 😊

Gosh this is a wonderful thread!
So many, but here’s a couple:
I walked from Blois to one of the big chateaus, about 9 miles. An elderly British couple I met on the grounds said they felt guilty for not offering me a ride when they drove past me. At end of day they were waiting for me to drive me back to Blois.
A Peruvian woman and I met on ferry to Greece and we traveled together for a week, both on a tight budget. One night in a new town on coast we couldn’t afford the only available hotel so we headed to beach to find some other travelers we met on train who’d told us they were “camping.” We ran into them coming into town for supper and we had one of the most memorable meals I’ve ever had (it was a “United Nations”-representation of travelers from around world). And when we joined them on the beach that night, collectively they shared with us a sleeping bag and pillow and blanket. Woke up to sound of waves 30 feet away. This was almost 40 years ago and I can still remember every detail of that day/night.

Shelly that's a loooong walk Blois to Chambord! Calves of steel 😁

The first magical moment that jumps to mind happened in England: Sitting by myself on a bench in Hampstead Heath Park in London, where I was struck by a flood of intellectual inspiration and wrote the essay for my graduate school teacher program that I needed to write and that was weighing heavily on my mind on that trip. I literally used the margins of my guide book to write it as the words came flowing out of my pen.

After a gorgeous day visiting the Matterhorn I was sitting across a cute couple from Japan (?) on the Gornergrat Railway. I said hello & they greeted me but didn’t speak English. The young woman was carefully folding tiny origami cranes. When she offered one to me I was so delighted. I had picked up some coin size pieces of rock/Matterhorn & gave her one from my pocket. She seemed equally pleased with the offering. Fond memory 🤍

We just got back from Paris. For most of the trip, my brother and his family were with us, but they had to leave earlier than us. The day they left, we were walking with our son and I could tell he was kind of down and missing his cousins. So when we walked by a playground and he wanted to go in, we said yes.

He went in and there was another family there, with a little boy around 2 years old. My son started playing with him, and it was so sweet. The other dad said that French kids don't really like to play with outsiders and he was so appreciative of my son. (They were from Brazil and had been in Europe a couple weeks). They probably played about half an hour, it was so sweet. He gave him a hug when we had to leave. And afterward my son told me one of his goals for our trip was to make a friend in another country.

Kind of a wild one so buckle up!

Travelling with my high school best friend as 21 year olds, met a British college student couple in the Barcelona Barrio Gotica youth hostel and made fast friends. We were heading to England soon so they said come hang out w/ us at Exeter University with their fellow British rich kid friends. We took them up and arrived "Rock Gardens" (the actual address was just that name), a big manor house they shared with 4 other people. The next night was Saturday and they scheduled a house party in our honor.

We arrived from touristing the town around dinner time and the party was already going. We were each handed an imperial pint of "snake bite black" by the male host, a hard drinker with a bit of a Dudley Moore vibe (the drink, the house favorite, was lager, the powerful local cider "scrumpy," and a generous spike of strong black currant cordial). We'd hurriedly finished half of our pints to catch up when Frog walked over with a bulging paper lunch bag.

Frog was a beautiful girl and supposedly brilliant, highest marks in advanced math classes and never opened the books, etc. She was odd and kind of floating but confident and sharp. Picture Jessa from the HBO show Girls and you are in the neighborhood. Frog held the bag open and said "I went mushroom picking today, have some." We weren't fully naïve, so inquired as to their nature. Confirmed magic. They didn't look like US west coast mushrooms we'd occasionally encountered -- rather skinny long and light colored, like bean sprouts almost. Unfamiliar we asked for guidance, how many? "Ours are weak, gobs!" So buddy and I took full handfuls and started chewing.

Having dispatched maybe 20 mushrooms each and starting, at Frog's advising, the next 20, a fellow walked up, looking very red-faced and spacey and pretty wasted. Sensing a potential fellow voyager, I inquired if he'd partaken. "Yes mate." How many did you have. "Four." My friend and I looked at each other and simultaneously began spitting out our full mouths into our hands. Frog tittered cutely.

The female part of the couple we met in Barcelona happened by, an amenable brown-eyed brunette with bit of royal affect. She lightly chided Frog and lightly impressed on her a "you broke them you bought them" policy.

Of course things progressed, and with extreme intensely at that, but we had a small cadre of nice guides who'd seemingly materialized around ring leader Frog. About 90 minutes (??? time is, like, a concept man ...) in it was decided that we'd hop in the G-series Mercedes rover of a sober guy and head of to the country cottage of a graduate student friend of the group. All facing one another in the Merc's sturdy jump seats, we bounced cheerily down quaint lanes through stone-walled pastured moorlands.

Pulling up to an ancient, isolated, thatched country cottage, we disembarked and ducked through its low front portal. The cottage was dug down a bit into the earth and we descended a short narrow staircase to enter. It was two rooms, divided by a huge fireplace that passed through to either side. Low ceilings, beams, thick whitewashed stone walls. Most of the light was from the big crackling fire, causing wild shadows to dance across every surface.

The house's host was short, squat, and hairy. He looked about as much like a hobbit as a person could, or at least did to me in my altered state. Some words were passed between he and Frog: "ummm ... yes .. I see, I see." We were cordially invited to sit at a slab wood table and presented with big earthenware mugs of sweet milky tea. Our kind, Hobbity host turned back to the woodburning iron stove, picked up a cast iron pan he'd had on the burner, and carried it over to us. The fire light danced on him crazily as he offered to share the single giant mushroom filling the entire pan that he'd been frying up for supper.

Magic moments seem to be interactions with the people we encounter as often as they are sights and events.
Two of my magic moments were at Leeds Castle and at St. Albans Cathedral.
We had taken a cab from the train station to Leeds Castle, and arranged with the driver to have him come back at 3PM and take us back to the station. For some reason, we never connected with him. As we were standing at the entry to the parking lot, a woman who had driven out a few minutes earlier returned and asked us if there was a problem. We explained, and she said, "Get in, I can take you to the station." What impressed me was that she had passed us, thought about us, and turned around to come back. She was on the staff at the castle, so I suppose she was still in the taking-care-of-visitors mode even as she left for the day. We said to her, "You probably wouldn't accept any sort of payment, but we hope someone does you a similar kindness today."

I was at St. Albans Evensong by myself. Attendees were welcomed into the choir along with the formal singers and readers, unlike a lot of places where we stay just outside the choir and maybe just do some responses.. A woman who was one of the organizers came up to me and asked if I would read the parts of the "people." I don't know if she knew I was a visitor and American...I wonder if she was surprised when she heard my accent. Anyway, I did a good job of reading, and just felt so welcomed and a part of it, rather than just a visitor and observer.

A little edit here: I just looked at my journal entry from St. Alban's, and I see that being "the people" was simply the usual role of responding that everyone takes when attending an evensong. The difference for my experience was simply that I was the only "people" who showed up that evening, so the woman who spoke to me was simply making sure that the one and only attendee would make the proper responses. I still felt especially welcomed and invited in.

This past week we were walking in Senheim just for something to do. We came across a family winery and a couple Belgians were buying some wine to take home. They left. We bought a bottle and sat outside to drink it. About the time we were done, one Belgian returned, bought another bottle and sat down with us and shared his bottle. The winery closed and the owner came out with yet another bottle to share. We all just sat around and chatted to the extent possible before going our separate ways. It was a memorable moment since it was completely unplanned and unexpected.

Such wonderful stories. Thank you all for sharing.

My magical moment came off a Baltic Cruise. I specifically picked the cruise because it stopped in Gdynia which meant I could take a bus to Gdansk. (I am second generation born in the US from Poland so this quick visit to Poland was special.)
We got to the Shipyard where Lech Walesa started it all and it was pouring rain. Before the bus came to a stop a grabbed my raincoat and my husband and as soon as the door opened I said RUN..... tears streaming down my face.... it was magic for sure.

Several years ago my husband and I were in a small Swiss town which is rather touristy (not Interlaken) but in the BO. I went into a shop I had visited in prior visits, purchasing several items each time. This trip the owner and I spoke of many things for quite awhile. At one point she offered my husband and I the use of her garden house which was located in the back yard of her shop/home for a picnic. All we needed to do was go to the local grocery store and buy the food for our picnic. We accepted her kind offer and enjoyed a leisurely lunch in her garden house which happened to have a great view of a lake located only a few feet away. We left a written thank you in the garden house. I'm glad we did because after we finished eating the the shop was closed. We went back the next morning and there was a sign on the door indicating she had gone on vacation and the shop would be closed for a time.

I felt then, and continue feel, overwhelmed by her generosity and kindness. I had endured a very stressful time prior to our trip. Her kind offer was exactly what I needed.

We returned to that town last month. Alas she no longer was there. But my good memories remain..

Traveler Girl

Love this thread!

In 2019, my husband and I were traveling by train from Glasgow to Stratford on Avon. We had snagged a table so we pulled out our Uno cards to play a few games. A young man took one of the two remaining seats at the table. He seemed shy and didn't seem to want to interact so we just continued our game. If you've played Uno, you know that the game can be quick or go on and on. This turned out to be one of the "on and on" games. After a bit, we noticed the young man watching. We exchanged a few looks with him and he became very focused on the game. As it went on and on, one of us would get down to one card and then we would build back up to a handful. Eventually, the three of us were laughing together at each turn of the game. We never learned the young man's name or exchanged more the a few words but the exchanged laughter created a memory we are still talking about.

Many of mine have to do with animals. I always enjoy seeing how birds are different in different parts of the world, and recall spending time in the Oxford Botanical Gardens and seeing all these birds that were tiny, exquisite variations of birds to which I was accustomed.

Once, I was hiking in the wilds in Maine, heard a sneeze, said Gesundheit, and turned around to discover it was a deer.

I checked in to a B&B in Giverny, and the proprietor asked if I was afraid of dogs (I said no, I love dogs). Apparently, other tourists he had hosted were terrified of his very sweet and friendly red-tick hound dog, Maggie. Whenever I was back at the B&B, I got to pat and talk to Maggie.

Back in the early 1990’s, walking on a dead quiet August Sunday through a square in Copenhagen with my high school best friend. We pulled out a map and a very pretty blonde girl in her early 20’s walked up and asked if we needed directions. We chatted a bit. Turns out she was Norwegian, pregnant, and staying with an aspiring film maker at his house in Copenhagen's Freetown Christiania. Would we like to come for dinner? She was going to cook.

We said certainly. Great she said. Bring rice, an onion, a pepper, a bottle of wine, and a little bit of money to chip in for the rest. It was a great introduction to the ethics of the Christiania collective.

We showed up at the appointed hour and were soon seated on the floor of a hand-built house in the deeper reaches of Christiania with our Norwegian friend from earlier and a young Danish couple. The guy, amenable and in his early 30’s, was the builder of the house (not the owner we were told – there is no independent ownership in Christiania). The house was the shape of a crescent moon because, it was related, that’s the shape the Christiania council prescribed, and made mostly of repurposed materials also at their edict. Dinner was hippy-ish and good. Before it the host shared with us his self-published books, art and a movie storyboard, none commercial successes, but with all of which he seemed fairly obsessed.

After dinner our three hosts took us on a walking tour of Christiania. The evening was quiet and we gained access absolutely everywhere with our resident guides. They were quite proud particularly of the sustainability efforts their community had been making.

It was getting late, and we were invited to sack out on the floor, which we did and were made reasonably comfortable.
The next morning I sat outside with coffee talking to the Norwegian. She invited me to come to Norway with her and hike into her family cabin high on some coastal fjord. She would have the baby there and I could winter over and help. I politely declined, but sometimes wonder where that adventure might have led if I’d said sure. Probably would have ended poorly, but I really didn’t have any place to be.

Visiting one of the world’s more unique and insular communities from the inside was positively fascinating. I'm thankful for the random encounter that made it happen.

Post Script: 32 summers later went back to the crescent house. Doing so I drew some eyeballs as I was far out of the part of Christiania tourists normal penetrate. I asked the current resident if she remembered who lived in that house 30 years ago. Did not, but an old time neighbor was summoned and we had a good chat. He remembered the Norwegian girl: “She had the baby here, then returned to her family in Norway a few years later. She was quite beautiful”.

But most amazingly, the "builder" of the crescent moon house turned out to be Kim Fupz Aakeson, nowadays a famous Danish author and filmmaker. I was so happy to hear that he’d made it big time in the creative arts.

Awesome imalinkalinka! Happy to hear your magic moments if you'd like to share :)