K&J's Excellent Cycling Adventure

Prelude

I have just finished writing several major project funding proposals for work, which have been hindering me from writing about this trip for some time. 5 have passed under my typing fingers in the past 4 weeks. At the end of the this week, the last two (for now) were submitted, and I'm enjoying a bit of freedom. Sigh…. ‘tis good.

Now because I've been writing nothing but proposals for relief and development interventions in the past days, I'm in grave danger of reverting to my 'proposal writing-style groove' and starting to type in 'development-speak'.

So I apologise if, instead of telling you that prior to this busy month of work, my brother & I went for a cycling holiday, I might say something like: “the key stakeholders in this action actively engaged in this participatory intervention to address the specific needs identified during a comprehensive assessment in the strategic planning phase of this project. The action resulted in a positive impact on the target groups which it is expected will contribute to sustainable change with numerous multiplier effects. ”

(Translation: Josh & I both needed a break from work. We went on a cycling trip. It was excellent, beautiful and restful. We loved it and would love to do more cycling trips in the future.)

So, to go easy on my typing fingers and spare you any potential further words without valuable meaning, I'll try to let our photos do most of the talking (with a wee bit of commentary).


Chapter 1: Embarkation - Getting comfortable on 2 Wheels

My good and amicable big brother Joshua came to visit me in Belgium in June on holiday from Sudan. Having grown up in a family that knows how to pack a kayak or a canoe for a 5-day wilderness whitewater trip, or to purchase dehydrated food and squeeze 5 people into a 3-person tent for a 3 day mountain trek, we decided to diversify our experience and try a new challenge: the multi-day cycling journey.

Packing the bikes for the first time as we left my apartment in Brussels.

Ok, so I have to confess, that we weren't too hardcore on this trip. This is Europe with all of its comforts afterall. When we left my apartment, we had all of a 10 minute cycle ride down to the train station, from where we caught a train (very convenient to do with bicycles in this part of the world) to the Belgian Ardennes in southern Belgium, to the pretty town of Dinant on the River Meuse. Here we had a leisurely lunch on a terrace along the river bank, saw the sites and then thought perhaps we ought to do atleast a little cycling.

At Dinant on the River Meuse, which we followed by bike for the next few days.

Hanging out with Adolphe Sax, the inventor of the Saxophone,
my high school instrument of choice, in his home town.

On the open road. Hoorah!
Only a few hours cycle today accross the border into France (27Km).

Setting up camp our first night in Givet, in northern France.

What happens after an afternoon of cycling.

Lakeside beach at extremely quiet and sleepy (but very cheap!)
campsite in the extremely quiet and sleepy village of Givet.

Beautiful sunset over the village of Givet after we
were able to find one of the few restaraunts open for business.

Chapter 2: Getting Serious - A Long Day's Ride

Morning of Day 2, June 2nd - birthday breakfast in honour of mom.
Janice - this photo is especially for you.
Feeling spry and energized for a serious day of cycling after some heavy
rye bread and camembert cheese (as my mother taught me).

In Day 2, we managed 86km, made easy by smooth flat,
well-marked French bike trails, with inspiring views all the way.

Throughout the day, we passed by or through beautiful little villages,
always punctuated with a church spire and filled with charming
flower boxes and delightful architecture.

Through tunnels.

Through forests.

Past..umm...'wild' life. (This was no Canadian wilderness...)

Past more charming villages. My favourite was the village of Chooz,
which regrettably I managed to not take a decent photo of.
But if I had to choose one village to settle down in, I'd choose Chooz.

Chapter 3: East Towards Luxembourg - How Steep are the Hills Indicated on the Map?

On Day 3, we left the banks of the river and headed east. Josh had been away from Sudan for several days at this point, and I've been away almost 7 months, and I guess we were both just a little homesick. So we decided to go for lunch in:

So it wasn't quite like the Sudan with a 'U' we know and love...
but we weren't complaining when we were served an amazing
Plat du Jour on a picturesque square in about 5 minutes!

From Sedan, we headed to Bouillon on the Semois River, back in Belgium near the border with Luxembourg. 51 km on Day 3 (a lot hillier than our previous day).

Josh, appearing optomistic at the end of a long steady climb.

Praises be! There'll be a long down-hill from here.

Beautiful Bouillon

Bouillon was all castles on cliff-tops, grand houses and old
bridges on reflective rivers...absurdly pretty.

Lovely campsite on the river's edge.

Chapter 4: How to Get to Luxembourg - Yes, the Hills are Very Steep.

When we left Bouillon, we reached the unfortunate point of having to get off our bikes and push them up the cliff surrounding the town. Embarrassing...I know, but I confess.

And we found ourselves stopping to take a lot more
breaks like this to admire the view.

We realized we were running out of time,
and cycling into Luxembourg was looking less realistic,
so when we reached this junction, we unfolded the map
and found the nearest town with a train track
running through it. To Bertrix it is! (Only 36 km, Day 4)

We do both look rather happy to be sitting on a train.
Hooray for Europe. If it were Canada, we would have been
stranded in a field for days on end.

A wee train trip later...and, voila! Thumbs up for reaching Luxembourg City
in the little country of Luxembourg. And that's a new country for
my official count...bringing the total to.... 41! Nice!

Chapter 5: Did you know that the Lexembourgouis speak Lëtzebuergesch?

Luxembourg, as my guidebook correctly pronounces, is 'fairy-tale stuff'... 'storybook beauty'... gardens along canals accross from Abbeys, flowers blooming everywhere, bridges, caves, castles, spires, vistas... Ah - but it's a modern fairytale, so it's also shopping streets with high fashion and fine dining, and a collection like I've never seen of monstrously glassy glass buildings in the business district, home to the EU institutions based in Luxembourg.

If you do ever visit Luxembourg, I'm compelled to recommend, that after you've had you've feasted your eyes on pretty scenery, skip the froufrou restaraunt, and find the charming and very down-to-earth little pub just off the main square where you must try the Luxemburger. A deeply satisfying high quality gourmet burger, with the menu subtitle: "what? does it look like you're in Hamburg?" I have to say, though the rest of Luxembourg was indeed very nice, this was a highlight of my visit. (Granted, I was a little hungry after all that cycling.)









The Denouement: Conclusions on 4 Days of Cycling with one's Big Brother

It was fantastic. Cycling is an excellent way to travel: slow enough to enjoy your surroundings, take in the details, process your thoughts and say 'bonjour' to the locals, but fast enough to actually get somewhere (at least on a European scale of distance). It also feels wonderful to travel without using a drop of fossil fuels (except, I suppose for the drops used to transport the food you're eating to fuel your pedaling) and to be completely self-sufficient with everything you need on the back of a bike, knowing you're getting somewhere, getting exercise and enjoying the experience - all simultaneously!

It was also some excellent sibling-bonding time. Or as we like to say in our family 'special times with special people.' We were even civil and cooperative the entire time. No big brother abuse (I've realised this was somehow always just a grand show to give parents a hard time). And no whiney little sisterness - I hardly even complained about the smelliness of the smelly cheese I had to carry. Or maybe we've just grown up a bit. This theory will be tested when all of us siblings are together with my parents this summer on a sailing trip...stay tuned.

But of course there's always room for good old stupid jokes and our special variety of shared sibling humour. I thus leave you with some comic relief, in the form of sign-post humour.

Mmm...yes I do always like my food pre-digested.

Don't walk barefoot there...

Chubby men with hats permitted??

And some classic Josh humour:
'Pleasant Journey' translated into various languages,
among which is 'Gute Fahrt'

A Walk in My Garden

Will you join me for a walk in my garden?

It will be a short walk. Approximately 6 steps, to be precise. It's small, confined as it is within pots and balcony walls, but yet the miracles of the plant kingdom are just as marvelous, occuring just a step outside my living room door. - And I'm no less awed.

This post is dedicated to Nanna, who's garden I've always loved walking through (mmm...especially the raspberry department in your old garden by the lake) and who has requested some photos of my new garden which I'm admittadely rather proud of and often speak of. Nanna - I do wish you could join me for a cup of tea in my garden and a wee walk around in person. I will come walk in yours in August, but this will have to suffice for mine.

The view from the living room window looking out to the balcony.
Most of our 'indoor garden' sits just inside this window:
the African Violets, the white orchid, the rubber tree and
the orange tree...among others.

We've now stepped through the door onto the balcony.

The view straight in front of you.

A step to your right - care for a leaf of lettuce snack?

And now, take a left at the green watering can.

Peas, spinach and cucumbers with lavendar on the right
and tomatoes to the left.

A little deeper into the green. There's dill, thyme, chives, cilantro,
sunflowers, cosmos, and the tomotoes.

Turning behind you, take a moment to stop and smell the flowers...
wait, pansies don't really smell much, and certainly not
on a blog. Hmm... a momentary gaze will have to do.

Next the geraniums - 2 flowers have finally shown their faces!

And now, the exquisite flower of the green garden pea.

And what follows a flower? - The fruit! Look at those
real life-sized pea pods! Mmm...it's going to be a small, but
tasty dinner,in which evey individual pea will be enjoyed.

And now you've reached the point where

you started. Care to take a seat to rest from your
walk and enjoy the view?

Thanks for joining me.

Happy Hungarian Holiday: The End

(* Note: if you've not read any of the Happy Hungarian Holiday tale, it begins at "The Beginning", 3 posts down.)

A Budapest Easter

At 4 am on Easter morning a battle took place between alarm clocks and the subconscious mind. Against the odds, the alarm clocks prevailed, and off they went to a dawn service in Hungarian. Lovely, contemplative and inspiring; followed by delicious ham, boiled eggs, sweet breads and jam.

After church, the dog demanded a walk, and was very wise in his insistence, for the early morning mood in the park was quite divine: blossoms everywhere, fresh morning air, gorgeous views…

*

Having achieved all this before 8:30 am, they concluded it was time for a nap. Kendrah set her alarm to draw her back from a faraway place in time to meet her brother-in-law’s family (normally of Saskatchewan, but currently visiting a son in Austria).

Pleased to have serendipitously rendezvoused in this delightful spot on the globe, Kendrah and her almost relatives proceeded to have a most excellent time together enjoying ‘the best of Budapest’. Without her Hungarian hostess, who was otherwise occupied, Kendrah took on the role of tour guide for the afternoon, armed with a city map and a few tidbits of information.



After a long afternoon of much walking in the sunshine, photo-taking, site-seeing, and some more ice-cream (of course), they were re-joined by Kendrah’s other friend and her Hungarian hostess, who, overflowing with interesting historical facts garnished with personal family stories took the weary walkers to a fantastic traditional Hungarian restaurant. Here they had an impressive Easter dinner accompanied with fine red wine. Their plates were heaped with so much beef stew and veal cutlet and potatoes and dumplings and gnocchi - that one plate might easily have fed three people. And the price was even more shocking – under €5 per plate!

*

Night had fallen as they filled their bellies to full (and then some), and it was decided that an expedition ought to be made to see the city and its impressively-lit buildings by night. And so they were led, on foot, throughout the city (forgetting, perhaps, that most of the party had walked the entirety of that afternoon, and some hiked through the park and up the mountain that morning). Legs were weary, but spirits were high, as they walked and paused to admire the parliament, the castle, impressive bridges, a very stylish Art Deco hotel, the basilica, and finally, at the end of a walk that no one realized was quite so far, a beautiful square and memorial. All voted to take a tram home, and the happy travellers had a special Hungarian chocolate bar, filled with sweet cottage cheese, before bidding one another good night and heading to their respective places of sleep.

*

The next morning, on her way out the door to meet up with her relatives before proceeding to the airport, Kendrah had a striking encounter with Hungarian hospitality. Countering Kendrah's belief that she was prepared to depart, Kendrah's hostess suddenly interjects with: “oh, but I want to send some Easter food from my grandmother’s house with you for your family”.

“Oh, but it’s really not necessary,” Kendrah protested, “they have breakfast included at the hotel and they will have eaten. You needn’t worry.”

“No, no,” said the hostess, “they must have some.”

“But they’re not even coming to your house, you really needn’t send food for them” Kendrah argued.

“You’re not getting out of this,” said her hostess resolutely.

“Oh…I see, it’s obligatory Hungarian hospitality,” Kendrah thought, and promptly gave up on her protests. They proceeded to go to grandma’s house where they ransacked the poor lady’s fridge, and packed a rather enormous meal of smoked ham, boiled eggs, bread, radishes, peppers, and special pastry with nuts.

“You do realize I have to carry all this on the tram along with my luggage?” said Kendrah. Her hostess was not concerned.

And so, off Kendrah went, laden with pretty baskets lined with Easter napkins and lettuce and filled with the feast. Sure enough, the family had already eaten their fill, but they agreed to go see some sites that were yet on their list and then go to the park with their packed feast for a final lunch. So off to the grand Basilica they went, where they saw the hand of a man 1000-years dead. The things people cherish… It was small, shrivelled and grey. It was the hand of the first king of Hungary. It was weird.

After this, they made their way to the park, found an inviting spot on the grass with an excellent view of Budapest and shared a delicious Easter picnic, about which they were all now most grateful to Kendrah’s hostess and her stubborn insistence.

*

It was a beautiful finale to a beautiful weekend.

And they were all very happy to have holidayed in Hungary.

The End.


*(cheers to darryl zubot for *'d photos)

Happy Hungarian Holiday: The Middle

What Treasures Lie North of Budapest

The heroines of our story awoke to a Saturday morning they had already met earlier that day. The sun was shining and the weather was delightfully warm. They found themselves in a land of summertime in a small city north of Budapest. They were treated to a lovely Hungarian breakfast: breads, cold meats and cheeses; tomatoes, radishes and long yellow bell peppers; fruit and homemade jam.

A lovely morning was had, climbing 360 steps to the top of a beautiful Basilica where they could walk all around the dome seeing the town and countryside in all directions. Just a hop away, across the Danube river was Slovakia. Kendrah eagerly wanted to visit to add this country to her collection, but alas, time did not permit it. So she settled for a photo of herself with Slovakia in the background. After their walking and site-seeing, they joined the prevailing Hungarian warm-day culture and treated themselves to ice cream. Mmmmm…. So good, so cheap, so satisfying.

Outside the Basilica

360 steps later.
Slovakia...so close, but just a little too far to be legitimately
countable according to official country-counting regulations.

Excellent travel companions - lovely Latvian
on the left, hospitable Hungarian on the right

En-route to Budapest they visited another enchanting city, and spent the afternoon walking pretty cobbled-lanes, eating fried potato flatbread with cream, browsing shops, enjoying views, and promenading along the Danube.





At dusk, they caught a train to Budapest, and arrived in the city from underground to a stunning view of the impressive parliament building, beautifully lit up and reflecting on the shimmering river at night.

(exceptionally pretty photo by Darryl Zubot, with exceptionally superior camera)

And then it was time to rest their weary heads in the home of a friend. For it was to be an early morning the next day. Earlier in the day than they last went to sleep!

To be continued…

Happy Hungarian Holiday: The Beginning

Adventures with BMW

Kendrah opened her eyes to a new morning underneath a bright blue sky. It was spring at its finest. Blossoms in full colour, birds alive with song and an unprecedented warm temperature for the season so far. She stuffed some summery clothing into a bag (recalling that the weather was rumoured to be balmy in Hungary) and dashed off to work for the morning for a few last harried hours finishing off writing a proposal. At lunch time, she stepped out of the office door into the sunshine and down the street filled with a wonderful feeling of freedom and the joy of spring. The proposal was handed off, the weather was inspiring, it was a long weekend, and she was off on a road trip with 3 lovely ladies and the promise of a delightful time in Budapest on the other end.

The drive started out blissfully boring…nice weather, nice conversation, nice croissants, nice fresh green trees along the nice smooth highway. They were making good time, and felt sure they’d reach Budapest by midnight.

A warning light appeared on the dashboard. An ambiguous red exclamation mark….what could it be…oil? an overheated engine? a fuel problem? A few minutes down the highway a sudden shakiness and shimmy in the car made the meaning of the symbol apparent: it was a low tire pressure warning (in a hi-tech BMW car) proceeding a flat tire reality. Discouraged, the 4 ladies slowed and moved to the side of the road, scouring the highway signs for any indication of a service station. “There’s one!...but what’s that giant X across the sign?....oh…it’s closed down”. Feeling very flat at this point, they pulled off at this overpass in any case hoping for some remnant of the former service station to still be in order. No such luck. “But it’s fine. We can change a flat. No problemmo. I’ve done it several times, says Kendrah. You do have a spare right?” “…Well, I think so, says the driver. I seem to remember seeing one…though I’m not sure…maybe that was someone else’s car. I don’t drive this car often, you see.” So the ladies unpacked all their luggage and rooted about in the boot. Nothing there…under the car?...nothing there?...under the back seat?...nothing there? “Gee…there are only so many places you can hide a tire.” No user manual. “Hmmph. It appears there’s no spare tire,” they concluded.

Just then, along came some potentially heroic gentlemen to rescue 4 lovely ladies in distress. They step out of their vehicle and in a strong German dialect, ask the girls about the direness of their situation. Gentleman #1 is over 6 feet tall, with a shiny bald head, deep-set eyes on a stern-looking face, and an impressive bushy black moustache with long handlebars. He’s wearing cowboy boots with jeans fastened tightly with a large-buckled belt, with a bulging pot belly protruding over it. Gentleman #2 has tanned leathery skin, 6 earrings in one ear, and long wavy black hair. He’s wearing a Harley Davidson shirt and black cowboy boots. Behind them is their vehicle. No…it’s not an impressive motorcycle painted in blue flames…or a big truck with a large muffler….it’s a smart car. A smart car covered in bright yellow and purple advertising for some kind of printing shop. They were surprised that the ladies didn’t have a spare tire in their car, but when the ladies in turn asked if they had one in theirs: “No room for it.” The ladies were surprised it had room for their legs and pot bellies.

The gentlemen escorted the damsels to the nearest service station, driving slowly on their super-thick BMW tires, which they now understood were designed this way to avoid requiring spare tires. There they were not able to get the service they needed, but were able to call the BMW highway assistance.

Unfortunately, it was 8pm on Good Friday. People were not very interested in doing mechanics. Eventually, BMW came through, and promised a technician.

Time passed…


Eventually, a truck with a flat-bed arrived, and carried them to the BMW service centre, which, thanks to them being in the heart of Germany, happened to be in the next town. But alas, the technician must have been out for dinner, or playing the organ at a Good Friday mass, or helping his grandmother paint Easter eggs, or any number of things, except being present & ready to fix the tire.

More time passed…

The ladies decided to go for dinner instead of standing in the cold & dark waiting.

More time passed…

The technician called. He was ready. The girls returned to the BMW service station, handed over their keys, and expected the tire to be replaced lickety split.

No such luck. Apparently modern BMW tires are so hi-tech they take at least an hour of adjustments and tweaking and calibration on some hi-tech machines. At long last, the vehicle was driven out, and as it pulled out into the parking area, something…no, two things, went ‘ping’…and then ‘ping’ on the pavement. Hmmm… “oh, it’s no problem says the technician”…you don’t need those”.

And off went the 4 ladies into the night, determined to yet reach their destination.

At 6 in the morning, they reached a city in northern Budapest where the driver of the car is from. Her parents generously vacated their bed early that morning to make space for the highway-weary travellers. Big pillows, soft duvets….home sweet home (who cares whose home sweet home it is as long as you can lay your head on a good pillow!)

They shut their eyes to the sun rising and their ears dismissed the birds singing excitedly about the new morning in the tree outside the window. They would pretend it was yet night for a few more hours before waking for the next day which was already going on without them...blissfully unaware of what adventures the day before them might hold.

To be continued...

Spring is an Excellent Thing

Raindrops on daffodils and chocolate on waffles,
Green buds on trees help me when I feel awful,
Bicycle tires that are filled up with air,
To the wonder of spring, there's not much can compare!

Baguettes, fine cheese and good drinks on a terrace,
Dreaming about taking a weekend in Paris,
Swans swim on lakes and small birds in trees sing,
'Tis that magical time of the year that's called Spring!

Yes...there are certain times in life when one just can’t help but burst into one’s own heartfelt rendition of the Sound of Music….because the hills/daffodils/forests/rivers really are “alive with the sound of music” and my heart really does want to sing. :)

(For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about - I do pity you deeply – promptly get yourself a copy of the incomparable musical classic: the Sound of Music, and then get yourself out to a forest or lake or some little piece of God’s earthly wonders.)



And just what, you might ask, has inspired this outburst of spring-time joy? Well…having lived in Sudan for the past 2 ½ years where the only seasons are “really hot and really dry” and “really hot and really wet”, it’s been 3 years since I’ve actually experienced a proper spring. And having since survived a very very cold portion of winter in Canada with temperatures lingering unreasonably long near -40C, and then enduring the remainder of winter Western-European-style, with lots of shades of grey and puddles and discarded crippled umbrellas, I’m now very excited to wake up to sunshine pouring in my window, and feel the warmth of the sun on my face once again in the late afternoon. Add to that the magic of little green shoots popping out of the earth and lifting up happy yellow faces to the sky…the joyful beauty of spring birdsong...or a vague tint of unadulterated green dusting the tips of trees, and becoming stronger and greener each day until delicate new leaves emerge and start digesting sunshine and exhaling oxygen...

I’m amazed. Continually.

My View on the World from my Living Room

This...


...is one of the many reasons I'm filled with gratitude for my new home. This was the stunning sunset view from my balcony one evening this week. And in moments like that I'm aware, yet again of how very lucky a child I am...to have eyes to see, to have incredible exposure to brilliant sights, to have found a not only safe, but beautiful and inspiring home, to have a heavenly artist who likes to make unique sky-spanning masterpieces every morning and every evening for those who remember to look up now and then....

Sigh...life is, indeed, (mostly) good. Sure there's rubbish and evil a-plenty. My heart is aching for the mess in Sudan right now...among other tragedies. BUT, there is a surprising amount of goodness all around us. And moments of frivolous joy - like looking out on a sunset like this.

In other news of being pleasantly surprised by goodness, my new housemate, who I happened upon through a random connection, and met for all of 15 minutes before we decided to live together, happens to have a startling number of lifestyle and value similarities to me. And on top of that, she bakes fresh bread on weekends, and makes steaming porridge with raisins in the morning with enough for me too, and delicious Hungarian mushroom stews on spiced rice... I'm spoiled. The former tenant is letting us keep most of his furniture, dishes, and a beautiful selection of hand-me-down plants, including a gorgeous orange tree and an orchid! So we've moved into an already lovely home, and feel very much blessed to be at home, unhomeless, 'homeful', at rest... for a good while.

Last night we hosted a housewarming and invited the sum of each of our acquaintances. Frankly, I hadn't thought we knew enough people to have a housewarming party, but it turns out, she's more of a social butterfly than I am..and I must be relatively friendly too as I knew nearly half of the people. We had a full house of good people engaged in animated conversation, sipping fine beverages and snacking on fresh-baked goodies (my housemate again), olives, Hungarian sausage, and other tasty delicacies. It was delightful, and very affirming to have a lovely home filled with lovely people.

And I'm excited about this opportunity to be a full-fledged city-dweller in the heart of Europe. A new life experience in the global living spectrum for me. I happen to have found a flat in one of the hippest neighbourhoods in Brussels. Within 50 steps of my front door, I can go for a coffee and a croissant, get fresh bread or fancy pastries at the bakery, pick up food at the supermarket, buy stylin' shoes and clothing, eat hand-made ice cream, catch the tram, or... visit a variety of odd little shops (Brussels has a plethora of odd highly specialized shops. For example, if you need a button...you could probably find a "button shop".)

Here's the view straight down from my balcony on the happenin' street below (which, I admit doesn't look all that happening in this photo. You'll have to take my word for it - or the next photo is a little more convincing):



And it looks very charming in black and white (there's the tram in the middle):


But I'm not entirely sure that deep within I'm really cut out to be a city girl. I do love walking and cycling everywhere, and the access to cultural events and social activities. But I need to touch dirt and make things grow and commune with plants and animals every now and then. And thus, I'm inspired to use my ample balcony space to start a potted garden. I have big dreams...herbs, lettuces, tomatoes and flowers for sure, and I've read you can even grow beans, carrots and potatoes in pots. So we'll see how successful my mini-farm will be. While the thought of having some balcony chickens did cross my mind (I miss my Juba chickies - 2 of whom, I'm happy to report have made it through chickhood!), I think I'll not go quite that for. But I am seriously considering starting a vermiculture farm. Ok, yes, that's just a very fancy word for a box full of worms that eat your garbage. But, really, how cool is that? - worms that live happily, uncomplaining and unsmelling in a small space and transform your waste food products into organic fertilizer for your balcony veggie pots? Well...I think it's cool. And thus, I intend to meld my city and country beings into one Kendrah.


Cheers to one week in the new home I've been blessed with.

...And one more look at the view that inspires me to do a little dance on my balcony singing "chim chim'ney, chim chim'ney, chim chim charoo" from Mary Poppins.