Hi All--
Our time in Italy has been jam-packed with activity, so we haven't had much time to blog... Venice was incredible, of course, even if tourists vastly outnumbered locals. And because it's apparently been that way for a couple hundred years, I'm sure that you already have a pretty good concept of what we did there. The typical boxes all got checked off -- we hung out in the Piazza San Marco, gaped at the mosaic ceilings of the Basilica, shuffled sideways through the crowds at the Ponte Rialto, saw hundreds of pieces of famous Renaissance artwork, and yes, took rides up and down the canals. (Although we did that last one on the cheap, taking the vaporetti -- boats that serve as public transit -- instead of an uber-expensive and mildly-awkward gondola ride.)
But along the way, we stumbled across some secrets that very few other people seemed to know, and I thought that I would share those with you instead.
One: Feeding pigeons in Venice is illegal. This must be a closely-kept secret, because every child under the age of six was running around San Marco with hunks of bread for them. (Criminals, each and every one of them.)
Two: You do not have to wait in the enormous line at the Basilica. There is no need to spend two hours baking in the sun, slowly crawling across the Piazza while all of your body's water content gets squeezed out of your pores. There is a small bag-check on a side street -- if you head right there and drop off your backpack, they give you a card that allows you to skip the line and head straight in to the cool interior. Thanks for that tidbit, Rick Steves!
Three: This one's kind of neat -- the Doge's Palace is jam-packed full of incredible artwork, but it's also jam-packed full of crowds craning their necks to see it. However, there's a little, teeny-tiny staircase that leads away from a major hallway, and if you climb to the top of it and pull a three-sixty, voila -- an enormous Tintoretto canvas, a masterpiece in dramatic high-Renaissance style, all to yourself. We sat and gazed at it for a full twenty minutes, and not a single other person ventured up near us. (Although a few walked by and gave us funny looks, wondering why two kooky Americans were camped out at the top of a narrow stairwell with dreamy looks on their faces.)
Four: This may come as a shock to everyone, but there are streets in Venice that are not directly adjacent to the Piazza San Marco and the Ponte Rialto. And they have houses, views, restaurants, canals, everything. It is not necessary to wait in a twenty-minute line every time you decide to do something. You do not have to pay eight euro for a cup of coffee. It is possible to find shady piazzas with free benches and no crowds. There are even real Italians in the city, and believe it or not, they eat at normal restaurants with normal prices -- and you can too!
Okay, that sounds pretty obvious, right? But nobody else seems to have figured it out! The oppressive crowds of the two major tourist centers disappeared, literally disappeared, after a five-minute stroll to the east. And there we found heaven -- streets that you could walk comfortably down, pizza that you could afford, canals that weren't loaded up with trash, shop owners that spoke Italian (and only Italian) -- the "real" Venice, I suppose you could call it, and it was wonderful.
But I have to admit, wide-eyed American cornball that I am, the more official tourist sites of Venice weren't half-bad either.
All for now!
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Tiny Battles in München
Hello all -
Casey and I are sitting in an internet cafe just outside Munich's central station waiting for our night train to wisk us off to Venice, so I thought I'd take this time to give a quick update on our stay in München.
Munich was...well, a series of tiny battles. The first battle was Casey and Eliza versus the weather. This battle lasted for approximately 35 of the 36 hours we were in this fine city. It rained the entire time we were here. I'm not talking about a shower or a sprinkle -- it poured. This would have been fine except that the only concrete thing we had planned for Munich was to take a biking tour of the city. Well, cross that off the list. Weather (which, funnily enough, is "wetter" in German):1 point, Casey and Eliza: 0 points.
We did not want the wetter to spoil our plans, so after arriving at the campground and pitching our tent, we ventured into the city center. This is where we came across our second battle -- cost of food vs. Casey and Eliza. This too, was a battle we were destined to lose as we ended up spending our entire day's budget on an over-priced American style dinner. Why did we go for American style? Well, it's because Eliza vs. German food was not a battle I was willing to fight that night. As our guidebook so tactfully put it, "Bavarians generally don't like to eat anything that didn't have a pulse at one point". We did try some of the famous German Franziskaner Weissbier (a delicious wheat beer) that went over quite well for the both of us.
That evening, after our battle against the 300+ steps of St. Stephen's church on way-too-full stomachs and our brief and somewhat hurried walk around the rainy city, we relaxed at our fantastic campsite. It was a hostel-style place with cheap eats and nice folks. They had a communal outdoor kitchen (covered, thankfully) where we stayed up playing cards and trying to explain the game of Cribbage to a bewildered English couple who were engaged in a tiny battle of their own (namely, a 5 hour best-of-five chess tournament). Everything at the campsite was clean, well maintained and painted in obscenely cheery pastel colors. Perhaps most importantly, the staff was kind enough to lend us some real sleeping bags to help us get through the coldest night of our trip thus far.
The morning brought new battles. The biggest one of note was Casey and Eliza vs. slugs. During the night, a small colony of slugs had moved onto our tent fabric and in our shoes and sandles, which we had left out to dry. Just when we thought we had rid ourselves of them all, I found a slug the size of a Pez dispenser on one of our tent hooks. EW. There was a bright side to the morning, however. While hand-drying our tent with gobs of stolen paper towels, we met a nice group of kids from Milan. They offered up their places if we decided we would like to pass through, but we had to graciously decline. (Doesn't EVERYONE book all of their train tickets 6 months in advance????)
Off to the Deutsches Museum where we battled the line to get in (for over an hour). It was a great way to spend last few hours in Munich -- waiting out the rain at the largest "technical" museum in the world. Favorite exhibits included such disparate topics as the history of boats, musical instruments and mathematics.
And now here we are, sitting in this internet cafe. I'm engaged in my final battle of Munich as I race against the little timer on the screen telling me I have only a few minutes left to finish this post.
On to Venice!
Casey and I are sitting in an internet cafe just outside Munich's central station waiting for our night train to wisk us off to Venice, so I thought I'd take this time to give a quick update on our stay in München.
Munich was...well, a series of tiny battles. The first battle was Casey and Eliza versus the weather. This battle lasted for approximately 35 of the 36 hours we were in this fine city. It rained the entire time we were here. I'm not talking about a shower or a sprinkle -- it poured. This would have been fine except that the only concrete thing we had planned for Munich was to take a biking tour of the city. Well, cross that off the list. Weather (which, funnily enough, is "wetter" in German):1 point, Casey and Eliza: 0 points.
We did not want the wetter to spoil our plans, so after arriving at the campground and pitching our tent, we ventured into the city center. This is where we came across our second battle -- cost of food vs. Casey and Eliza. This too, was a battle we were destined to lose as we ended up spending our entire day's budget on an over-priced American style dinner. Why did we go for American style? Well, it's because Eliza vs. German food was not a battle I was willing to fight that night. As our guidebook so tactfully put it, "Bavarians generally don't like to eat anything that didn't have a pulse at one point". We did try some of the famous German Franziskaner Weissbier (a delicious wheat beer) that went over quite well for the both of us.
That evening, after our battle against the 300+ steps of St. Stephen's church on way-too-full stomachs and our brief and somewhat hurried walk around the rainy city, we relaxed at our fantastic campsite. It was a hostel-style place with cheap eats and nice folks. They had a communal outdoor kitchen (covered, thankfully) where we stayed up playing cards and trying to explain the game of Cribbage to a bewildered English couple who were engaged in a tiny battle of their own (namely, a 5 hour best-of-five chess tournament). Everything at the campsite was clean, well maintained and painted in obscenely cheery pastel colors. Perhaps most importantly, the staff was kind enough to lend us some real sleeping bags to help us get through the coldest night of our trip thus far.
The morning brought new battles. The biggest one of note was Casey and Eliza vs. slugs. During the night, a small colony of slugs had moved onto our tent fabric and in our shoes and sandles, which we had left out to dry. Just when we thought we had rid ourselves of them all, I found a slug the size of a Pez dispenser on one of our tent hooks. EW. There was a bright side to the morning, however. While hand-drying our tent with gobs of stolen paper towels, we met a nice group of kids from Milan. They offered up their places if we decided we would like to pass through, but we had to graciously decline. (Doesn't EVERYONE book all of their train tickets 6 months in advance????)
Off to the Deutsches Museum where we battled the line to get in (for over an hour). It was a great way to spend last few hours in Munich -- waiting out the rain at the largest "technical" museum in the world. Favorite exhibits included such disparate topics as the history of boats, musical instruments and mathematics.
And now here we are, sitting in this internet cafe. I'm engaged in my final battle of Munich as I race against the little timer on the screen telling me I have only a few minutes left to finish this post.
On to Venice!
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Vienna!
Okay folks, let's be clear about this from the start: I LOVE VIENNA.
And I'm going to spend this entire post waxing poetic about it, so if descriptions of Austria don't float your boat, feel free to check back once we reach Italy.
But for those of you who are sticking around, here's the deal: if you've ever dreamed of wandering down the picturesque cobblestones streets of an "old European" city, book tickets now. Vienna is gorgeous: gleaming white neo-Baroque facades marching along pedestrian-only boulevards; statues and fountains and men dressed as Mozart at every intersection; towering church spires and emperor's palaces and the best opera house in the world, all within a ten-minuite stroll; cafe umbrellas everywhere, ice-cream topped espresso drinks, and the desserts - oh God, the desserts! - rich and creamy and completely devoid of nutritional value. We could have spent our entire stay aimlessly wandering the picture-perfect streets of the first district.
But there were museums to peruse and sights to see as well! In keeping with our "topping things" theme, we scaled the 357 stairs to the heights of St. Stephen's spiky gothic tower, where we were granted a stunning view of the city, spiraling outwards around the base of the iconic cathedral. From there, on to the Hofburg - the Versailles of Austria - a decadent palace with a truly astonishing amount of gilded flatware and surprisingly moving exhibit on the tragic life of Empress Sisi. The Kunsthistorisches Museum followed, and it was packed with late-Renaissance-era masterpieces, including a delightfully dark reinterpretation of David by personal favorite Caravaggio.
Slightly farther off the beaten track, we visited the Kunst Haus Wien, a museum space designed by and dedicated to Hundertwasser, built with no straight lines and multiple tree tenants. (If you don't know who he is, use Google. A bit of a dreamer, perhaps, but with fascinating ideas and quotable phrases to spare.) And the Haus der Musik had super-modern interactive displays on the science of sound, which I barely understood but Eliza truly loved.
It only got prettier as the sun went down. We trekked out to the west of the city one night to find a genuine "wine tavern" - and after an epic fail on my part, did eventually stumble across one that was open... There, we whiled away the night in a softly-lit garden courtyard, sipping heuriger, a deliciously bright, crisp wine made in-house. Another night was spent at the Prater, a decent theme park with a carnival-like atmosphere and a famous ferris wheel that was far too expensive to bother riding. We chose to ascend elsewhere instead, on a 115m tall tower with swings, which gently spun us around as it lifted us up over the city. We rode at dusk, and quiet descended as we rose above the neon lights, no sound but the wind as we whirled softly above Vienna.
I'll stop myself before this turns into the overly-detailed play-by-play travelogue that we had hoped to avoid. But suffice it to say that Vienna has all of the artistic treasures, cultural wonders, and old-city charm that we dreamed of when the idea for this trip first arose. I hear that Salzburg and Innsbruck are just as incredible, and a return-trip to Austria has been firmly etched onto our to-do list. Consider adding it to yours!
Until next time--
And I'm going to spend this entire post waxing poetic about it, so if descriptions of Austria don't float your boat, feel free to check back once we reach Italy.
But for those of you who are sticking around, here's the deal: if you've ever dreamed of wandering down the picturesque cobblestones streets of an "old European" city, book tickets now. Vienna is gorgeous: gleaming white neo-Baroque facades marching along pedestrian-only boulevards; statues and fountains and men dressed as Mozart at every intersection; towering church spires and emperor's palaces and the best opera house in the world, all within a ten-minuite stroll; cafe umbrellas everywhere, ice-cream topped espresso drinks, and the desserts - oh God, the desserts! - rich and creamy and completely devoid of nutritional value. We could have spent our entire stay aimlessly wandering the picture-perfect streets of the first district.
But there were museums to peruse and sights to see as well! In keeping with our "topping things" theme, we scaled the 357 stairs to the heights of St. Stephen's spiky gothic tower, where we were granted a stunning view of the city, spiraling outwards around the base of the iconic cathedral. From there, on to the Hofburg - the Versailles of Austria - a decadent palace with a truly astonishing amount of gilded flatware and surprisingly moving exhibit on the tragic life of Empress Sisi. The Kunsthistorisches Museum followed, and it was packed with late-Renaissance-era masterpieces, including a delightfully dark reinterpretation of David by personal favorite Caravaggio.
Slightly farther off the beaten track, we visited the Kunst Haus Wien, a museum space designed by and dedicated to Hundertwasser, built with no straight lines and multiple tree tenants. (If you don't know who he is, use Google. A bit of a dreamer, perhaps, but with fascinating ideas and quotable phrases to spare.) And the Haus der Musik had super-modern interactive displays on the science of sound, which I barely understood but Eliza truly loved.
It only got prettier as the sun went down. We trekked out to the west of the city one night to find a genuine "wine tavern" - and after an epic fail on my part, did eventually stumble across one that was open... There, we whiled away the night in a softly-lit garden courtyard, sipping heuriger, a deliciously bright, crisp wine made in-house. Another night was spent at the Prater, a decent theme park with a carnival-like atmosphere and a famous ferris wheel that was far too expensive to bother riding. We chose to ascend elsewhere instead, on a 115m tall tower with swings, which gently spun us around as it lifted us up over the city. We rode at dusk, and quiet descended as we rose above the neon lights, no sound but the wind as we whirled softly above Vienna.
I'll stop myself before this turns into the overly-detailed play-by-play travelogue that we had hoped to avoid. But suffice it to say that Vienna has all of the artistic treasures, cultural wonders, and old-city charm that we dreamed of when the idea for this trip first arose. I hear that Salzburg and Innsbruck are just as incredible, and a return-trip to Austria has been firmly etched onto our to-do list. Consider adding it to yours!
Until next time--
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Auf Wiedersehen, Berlin
Having been out of Berlin for a full day now, I feel as though I can reflect a bit on what we saw in this beautifully complex city.
Our trip started with a stroll down Unter den Linden, a street that, in many ways, demonstrates the complexity I am referring to. Its grand entrance (the Brandenburg Gate) is flanked by huge stone columns and gorgeous statues. As you pass through the gates, you see a bustling tourist center lined with German cafes and yes, of course, the occasional Starbucks. There were bike tours and kids playing and street performers. If you didn't take a moment to read the glass panel hiding unobtrusively in a shady alcove of trees, you might not have had any idea that you had just crossed from what was once West Berlin into what was once East Berlin; that nearly 150 people had been killed where you stand.
This was not the last time Casey and I felt conflicted while exploring Berlin. After all, to even a casual observer such as myself, it is very clear that Berlin is undergoing rapid change and as a city, has the near impossible task of moving forward while remembering and commemorating a sometimes dark social and political past.
Despite this, and perhaps because of it, Berlin has so much to offer. This post would get obscenely long if I were to report back on every activity and adventure we had here, so I will stick to some highlights. One of Casey's personal favorites was the Pergamon Museum, a colossal museum displaying ancient architectural works such as the Ishtar gates and the Pergamon alter. We took pictures of both, but even a photograph would have difficulty capturing the sheer immensity of either of these structures, which showcased the best of art and architecture from such disparate places and times in history.
The Neue Nationalgalerie, which we explored on our third day in the city, was one of the best art galleries either of us as ever been to. For those of you who are ready to book a trip to Berlin, I have sad news for you. The gallery is a temporary one, and not all of the collections on display have been as well-received as this one (which focused on German artwork from 1900-1945). Why did we like it so much? The layout was simple -- not too big, not too small. Each room had a theme, whether it was arranged by artist, political or social change, or just created within the same time period. The (free) audio guide was insightful; I don't need a play-by-play of what I'm looking at, I can see it for myself... And of course, the artwork was phenomenal. Paintings that could be at once hilarious and tragic, and sculptures that made you want to know more background than even an excellent audio guide could tell you. One of my personal favorites was a piece by Kirschner called "Potsdamer Platz" that was painted near the start of the first world war. The only reference to the war within the painting, which was of two well-dressed ladies standing in the foreground of a busy cosmopolitan center, was the darkened sky in the background which predicted dark times ahead.
Another favorite tourist activity that Casey and I have taken to is something I like to call "topping things". Within the first two days, we climbed to the top of the Berliner Dom AND took an elevator to the top of the all-too-touristy TV Tower (the tallest structure in Berlin, constructed during the Cold War as a demonstration of technological superiority). Each experience had something wonderful and different to offer, but our favorite climb was on our final day in Berlin proper when we went to the top of the Reichstag building at night. The Reichstag is a government building, specifically where the Bundestag (German congress) meets for 22 weeks of the year. The neo-classical facade of the building, with its German flags and inscription declaring, "For the German People" is certainly impressive. However, once we got inside, we realized that the interior of the building is actually brand new and showcases some of the most forward-thinking and innovative "green" technology the world has to offer. By this point, the juxtaposition of new and old did not suprise us, rather it seemed natural. The large, all glass dome that caps the enormous building is a free-standing steel structure that allows visitors to catch a breathtaking view of Berlin, while giving them a birds-eye peek at governmental proceedings below. As we walked upwards along a spiral that winds around the inside of the dome, a radio-guided audio tour told us what we were looking at in the city below, as well as giving us a history of the building itself.
Overall we had a fantastic time in Berlin. We had delicious food which, despite Casey's last posting, DID include some German specialties like currywurst (sausage covered in a spicy curry sauce) and apple streudel - mmmm. We took a trip to the zoo, saw many more museums and architectural wonders than I have space to elaborate on here, and we still had plenty of time for one of my favorite things: relaxing after a long day with a tall German beer (whose name I certainly could not pronounce) while people-watching from an outdoor cafe.
On to Vienna!
Our trip started with a stroll down Unter den Linden, a street that, in many ways, demonstrates the complexity I am referring to. Its grand entrance (the Brandenburg Gate) is flanked by huge stone columns and gorgeous statues. As you pass through the gates, you see a bustling tourist center lined with German cafes and yes, of course, the occasional Starbucks. There were bike tours and kids playing and street performers. If you didn't take a moment to read the glass panel hiding unobtrusively in a shady alcove of trees, you might not have had any idea that you had just crossed from what was once West Berlin into what was once East Berlin; that nearly 150 people had been killed where you stand.
This was not the last time Casey and I felt conflicted while exploring Berlin. After all, to even a casual observer such as myself, it is very clear that Berlin is undergoing rapid change and as a city, has the near impossible task of moving forward while remembering and commemorating a sometimes dark social and political past.
Despite this, and perhaps because of it, Berlin has so much to offer. This post would get obscenely long if I were to report back on every activity and adventure we had here, so I will stick to some highlights. One of Casey's personal favorites was the Pergamon Museum, a colossal museum displaying ancient architectural works such as the Ishtar gates and the Pergamon alter. We took pictures of both, but even a photograph would have difficulty capturing the sheer immensity of either of these structures, which showcased the best of art and architecture from such disparate places and times in history.
The Neue Nationalgalerie, which we explored on our third day in the city, was one of the best art galleries either of us as ever been to. For those of you who are ready to book a trip to Berlin, I have sad news for you. The gallery is a temporary one, and not all of the collections on display have been as well-received as this one (which focused on German artwork from 1900-1945). Why did we like it so much? The layout was simple -- not too big, not too small. Each room had a theme, whether it was arranged by artist, political or social change, or just created within the same time period. The (free) audio guide was insightful; I don't need a play-by-play of what I'm looking at, I can see it for myself... And of course, the artwork was phenomenal. Paintings that could be at once hilarious and tragic, and sculptures that made you want to know more background than even an excellent audio guide could tell you. One of my personal favorites was a piece by Kirschner called "Potsdamer Platz" that was painted near the start of the first world war. The only reference to the war within the painting, which was of two well-dressed ladies standing in the foreground of a busy cosmopolitan center, was the darkened sky in the background which predicted dark times ahead.
Another favorite tourist activity that Casey and I have taken to is something I like to call "topping things". Within the first two days, we climbed to the top of the Berliner Dom AND took an elevator to the top of the all-too-touristy TV Tower (the tallest structure in Berlin, constructed during the Cold War as a demonstration of technological superiority). Each experience had something wonderful and different to offer, but our favorite climb was on our final day in Berlin proper when we went to the top of the Reichstag building at night. The Reichstag is a government building, specifically where the Bundestag (German congress) meets for 22 weeks of the year. The neo-classical facade of the building, with its German flags and inscription declaring, "For the German People" is certainly impressive. However, once we got inside, we realized that the interior of the building is actually brand new and showcases some of the most forward-thinking and innovative "green" technology the world has to offer. By this point, the juxtaposition of new and old did not suprise us, rather it seemed natural. The large, all glass dome that caps the enormous building is a free-standing steel structure that allows visitors to catch a breathtaking view of Berlin, while giving them a birds-eye peek at governmental proceedings below. As we walked upwards along a spiral that winds around the inside of the dome, a radio-guided audio tour told us what we were looking at in the city below, as well as giving us a history of the building itself.
Overall we had a fantastic time in Berlin. We had delicious food which, despite Casey's last posting, DID include some German specialties like currywurst (sausage covered in a spicy curry sauce) and apple streudel - mmmm. We took a trip to the zoo, saw many more museums and architectural wonders than I have space to elaborate on here, and we still had plenty of time for one of my favorite things: relaxing after a long day with a tall German beer (whose name I certainly could not pronounce) while people-watching from an outdoor cafe.
On to Vienna!
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Post Script
HAPPY (ALMOST) 20th BIRTHDAY TO MY FAVORITE NOT-SO-LITTLE-ANYMORE BROTHER, DAN!!! And, of course, happy (belated) 0.75th to my favorite still-quite-little nephew, Samuel!
Good Ideas, Bad Ideas
Hi, All--
It's time to talk about two of Eliza's favorite things -- eating and sleeping! For those of you who are unaware, we elected to drastically reduce the overall cost of our trip by camping our way across Europe and eating on the cheap. Was this a good idea? So far, we think it's worked out pretty well, but it certainly gave us the opportunity to have quite a few bad ideas...
Bad Idea #1: Pitching our tent in the middle of a field, far away from any source of shade, in the middle of a heat wave. Sure, our high-tech abode has plenty of ventilation. But you can ventilate it all you want -- stick something in the oven, and it's still going to get cooked.
Good Idea #1: Meeting up with our friend Carrie in Amsterdam.
Bad Idea #2: Assuming that a "3-person tent" would comfortably fit three of us. Thank goodness we're all very thin... (On a side note, our tent weathered several serious downpours in the Netherlands, and is standing tall through a thunderstorm in Berlin as I type this -- Bravo!)
Bad Idea #3: Pitching our tent on and/or near a German ant colony. We still can't figure out where the little buggers are coming from, but they really like throwing parties on our rainfly. I assume that a few will hitchhike with us to Vienna; I just hope we're not responsible for an invasive insect species decimating the Austrian countryside.
Good Idea #2: Impulsively picking Dutch cafes by checking for low prices and ordering random menu items. Seriously, is it even possible to order bad food in Amsterdam?
Bad Idea #4: Impulsively picking German cafes by checking for low prices and ordering random menu items. Some of these kitchens must be staffed by toddlers wielding slices of Kraft American cheese and an EZ-Bake toaster oven. We should have stuck with the wurst. (Although I will say that we've had some of the best falafel/Vietnamese food of our lives here. Go figure.)
We still have two days left in Berlin, so I won't launch into a long-winded exposition of my thoughts on this once-war-torn, deeply divided, ethnically diverse, hustling, bustling, vibrant city just yet. But I will say that we're loving it, and provide a quick list of some particulars (this one's for you, Amy!):
- The sweeping views from the top of the Berliner Dom and the (super-touristy, but still satisfying) TV Tower.
- The Pergamon Temple and Ishtar Gates of Babylon preserved (almost) in their entirety; eat your heart out, Ben.
- Stunning 19th-Century marble sculptures at the Alte Nationalgalerie.
- Libeskind's phenomenal architecture at the Jewish Museum -- even if the exhibits were a bit lackluster.
- The low, low, low cost of beer.
Until next time!
It's time to talk about two of Eliza's favorite things -- eating and sleeping! For those of you who are unaware, we elected to drastically reduce the overall cost of our trip by camping our way across Europe and eating on the cheap. Was this a good idea? So far, we think it's worked out pretty well, but it certainly gave us the opportunity to have quite a few bad ideas...
Bad Idea #1: Pitching our tent in the middle of a field, far away from any source of shade, in the middle of a heat wave. Sure, our high-tech abode has plenty of ventilation. But you can ventilate it all you want -- stick something in the oven, and it's still going to get cooked.
Good Idea #1: Meeting up with our friend Carrie in Amsterdam.
Bad Idea #2: Assuming that a "3-person tent" would comfortably fit three of us. Thank goodness we're all very thin... (On a side note, our tent weathered several serious downpours in the Netherlands, and is standing tall through a thunderstorm in Berlin as I type this -- Bravo!)
Bad Idea #3: Pitching our tent on and/or near a German ant colony. We still can't figure out where the little buggers are coming from, but they really like throwing parties on our rainfly. I assume that a few will hitchhike with us to Vienna; I just hope we're not responsible for an invasive insect species decimating the Austrian countryside.
Good Idea #2: Impulsively picking Dutch cafes by checking for low prices and ordering random menu items. Seriously, is it even possible to order bad food in Amsterdam?
Bad Idea #4: Impulsively picking German cafes by checking for low prices and ordering random menu items. Some of these kitchens must be staffed by toddlers wielding slices of Kraft American cheese and an EZ-Bake toaster oven. We should have stuck with the wurst. (Although I will say that we've had some of the best falafel/Vietnamese food of our lives here. Go figure.)
We still have two days left in Berlin, so I won't launch into a long-winded exposition of my thoughts on this once-war-torn, deeply divided, ethnically diverse, hustling, bustling, vibrant city just yet. But I will say that we're loving it, and provide a quick list of some particulars (this one's for you, Amy!):
- The sweeping views from the top of the Berliner Dom and the (super-touristy, but still satisfying) TV Tower.
- The Pergamon Temple and Ishtar Gates of Babylon preserved (almost) in their entirety; eat your heart out, Ben.
- Stunning 19th-Century marble sculptures at the Alte Nationalgalerie.
- Libeskind's phenomenal architecture at the Jewish Museum -- even if the exhibits were a bit lackluster.
- The low, low, low cost of beer.
Until next time!
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Second in the World!
We are actually in Berlin right now, as you may already know if you´re following along at home. We had a fantastic time in Amsterdam (thanks, in no small part, to meeting up with our good pal Carrie for the duration of our stay). Casey was able to post a quick update about our arrival, but since then, we have been unable to find an affordable internet cafe to update you on our Amsterdam shenanignans.
I am pretty roasty in this 6ft x 3ft internet space, so I won´t pretend that this will be a coherent or well thought-out posting. Without further ado, here are some things that I have learned:
-I learned on the flight from Iceland to Amsterdam that whining sounds the same in all languages (thank you, 7-year-old Icelandic boy sitting in the seat behind me).
-I learned that Chuck Norris jokes do not sound the same in all languages (thank you, French teenaged boys raucously recounting jokes about "Shuck Nor-ees" on our first ride on Amsterdam´s tram system)
-I learned that it takes approximately one glass of wine´s length of time in a cafe to ride out the worst of a Dutch thunderstorm
-I learned that peanut sauce on fries is even more delicious than it sounds
-I learned that there are lots of tourists in Amsterdam (as demonstrated by the fact that an announcement was made over the loudspeaker of the tram which everyone ignored. When I asked the only Dutch-looking person to translate, they said the train was broken down and we needed to get off. With a collective "ohhhhh", everyone simulataneously deboarded.)
-I learned that no matter how many children one has in Amsterdam, there is a way to fit all of them on a single bike
-I learned to wear orange, scream "Goooo Holland", and become personally invested in a team in which I had no prior interest
-I learned that grocery stores cannot sell cold beer for some reason, but that sticking a warm six-pack in the frozen fries section for 25 minutes while pretending to browse Dutch magazine racks will do the trick every time
Over all, we had a fantastic time in Amsterdam (and we miss you already, Carrie!). UNFORTUNATELY, we have not yet found a way to post pictures, but I hope to find a way to do that in the not-too-distant future.
Love to you all (we love reading any comments, so feel free to say hi!)
I am pretty roasty in this 6ft x 3ft internet space, so I won´t pretend that this will be a coherent or well thought-out posting. Without further ado, here are some things that I have learned:
-I learned on the flight from Iceland to Amsterdam that whining sounds the same in all languages (thank you, 7-year-old Icelandic boy sitting in the seat behind me).
-I learned that Chuck Norris jokes do not sound the same in all languages (thank you, French teenaged boys raucously recounting jokes about "Shuck Nor-ees" on our first ride on Amsterdam´s tram system)
-I learned that it takes approximately one glass of wine´s length of time in a cafe to ride out the worst of a Dutch thunderstorm
-I learned that peanut sauce on fries is even more delicious than it sounds
-I learned that there are lots of tourists in Amsterdam (as demonstrated by the fact that an announcement was made over the loudspeaker of the tram which everyone ignored. When I asked the only Dutch-looking person to translate, they said the train was broken down and we needed to get off. With a collective "ohhhhh", everyone simulataneously deboarded.)
-I learned that no matter how many children one has in Amsterdam, there is a way to fit all of them on a single bike
-I learned to wear orange, scream "Goooo Holland", and become personally invested in a team in which I had no prior interest
-I learned that grocery stores cannot sell cold beer for some reason, but that sticking a warm six-pack in the frozen fries section for 25 minutes while pretending to browse Dutch magazine racks will do the trick every time
Over all, we had a fantastic time in Amsterdam (and we miss you already, Carrie!). UNFORTUNATELY, we have not yet found a way to post pictures, but I hope to find a way to do that in the not-too-distant future.
Love to you all (we love reading any comments, so feel free to say hi!)
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Alive and Sweaty
Greetings from the other side of the Atlantic!
We're now safely ensconced in Amsterdam, and our flight went by largely without incident. We landed, used an ATM, and found our campsite with no major problems. (Aren't you all so proud?) Everything was feeling cool and groovy -- even the air smelled fresher as we trekked out to our camping pitch.
Really fresh, in fact -- almost suspiciously so...
Sort of like when I'm in the shower, and I grab a bottle of Pert Plus and squeeze out a dollop, only this smelled like a whole lot more than a dollop.
Which, of course, it was.
A whole bottle, to be precise, and it had exploded all over the inside of my pack. I had luckily packed it in a seperate section, apart from clothing and important documents, but had mysteriously decided to put lots of other valuable things in with it. Among them, our plug adaptor, a pocketknife, an ebook charger, and even the (now-ruined) rolls of toilet paper that my mother gave us, "just in case."
(And wouldn't you know it, the bathroom stalls were universally bereft of TP.)
Forty-five minutes worth of rinsing later, I returned to our tent to settle in and begin adjusting to the six-hour time difference. I wish that I also had to adjust to the temperature difference, but the heat wave that we left back in Boston apppears to have followed us to the Dutch lowlands. Highs in the low 90s and a sun that doesn't set until 10:30 PM, which might have been bearable if anybody owned an air conditioner in this damn country. But they don't, and despite all of the other fancy features that our tent came with, neither do we.
But for all that, we're alive! We made it here safely! We slept through a night without our tent collapsing on us! We have succesffully navigated the most bizarre public transit system in the world! And we've had a wonderful time with the Dutch language, which seems to consist entirely of random vowels strung together in front of word stems like "buurp," "fahrt," and "dijk."
So long story short, we're still managing to have a grand ol' time.
Liza will post soon with stories about all of the fun we've been having since recouping from the arrival!
Until then--
We're now safely ensconced in Amsterdam, and our flight went by largely without incident. We landed, used an ATM, and found our campsite with no major problems. (Aren't you all so proud?) Everything was feeling cool and groovy -- even the air smelled fresher as we trekked out to our camping pitch.
Really fresh, in fact -- almost suspiciously so...
Sort of like when I'm in the shower, and I grab a bottle of Pert Plus and squeeze out a dollop, only this smelled like a whole lot more than a dollop.
Which, of course, it was.
A whole bottle, to be precise, and it had exploded all over the inside of my pack. I had luckily packed it in a seperate section, apart from clothing and important documents, but had mysteriously decided to put lots of other valuable things in with it. Among them, our plug adaptor, a pocketknife, an ebook charger, and even the (now-ruined) rolls of toilet paper that my mother gave us, "just in case."
(And wouldn't you know it, the bathroom stalls were universally bereft of TP.)
Forty-five minutes worth of rinsing later, I returned to our tent to settle in and begin adjusting to the six-hour time difference. I wish that I also had to adjust to the temperature difference, but the heat wave that we left back in Boston apppears to have followed us to the Dutch lowlands. Highs in the low 90s and a sun that doesn't set until 10:30 PM, which might have been bearable if anybody owned an air conditioner in this damn country. But they don't, and despite all of the other fancy features that our tent came with, neither do we.
But for all that, we're alive! We made it here safely! We slept through a night without our tent collapsing on us! We have succesffully navigated the most bizarre public transit system in the world! And we've had a wonderful time with the Dutch language, which seems to consist entirely of random vowels strung together in front of word stems like "buurp," "fahrt," and "dijk."
So long story short, we're still managing to have a grand ol' time.
Liza will post soon with stories about all of the fun we've been having since recouping from the arrival!
Until then--
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Last-minute(ness)
I should be packing right now.
When I told people I was going to keep working at my job up until the day before I left for the trip, most people had the same reaction: "Are you nuts???" As it turns out, I just know myself too well. I have never been able to pack for a trip more than 12 hours in advance. Case in point: waking up at 4am to pack my suitcase for my semester abroad in New Zealand. The alternative is just too stressful. After all, I'm going to need my toothbrush the morning of departure! And how can I possibly pick out a traveling outfit in advance? If it's chilly the morning I leave, God forbid I've already packed away my favorite fleece... So here we are, T-minus 6 hours until we depart for the airport, and I'm sitting in my pajamas with an unpacked suitcase writing a blog entry.
For those of you that know the background of our trip preparation, this should come as no surprise. Casey took care of all of the nitty-gritty details of planning the trip (ie: which countries we would go to and everything we'd do there). This freed me up to plan, well, nothing. And I couldn't have been happier about it. There was a brief period during which he felt bad for not including me and I felt bad for not contributing. It took us approximately 15 minutes to establish that there was a reason for our prospective roles. I could not have cared less which local train we'd be taking from Antibes to Blois, and Casey could not have cared more.
This leaves me in an interesting predicament. You (the blog reader) and I are actually in very much the same position. I am excitedly anticipating the unveiling of what we will do in each city along our route. So in many ways, we'll be taking this journey together. Casey, on the other hand, has yahoo-ed and googled and yelped and highlighted and printed and purchased and just about memorized each detail of the trip. And, of course, he's been fully packed for weeks. So, after a year of planning and a year of not (respectively), Casey and I are both feeling fully prepared to embark on our journey.
...I just need to go pack.
When I told people I was going to keep working at my job up until the day before I left for the trip, most people had the same reaction: "Are you nuts???" As it turns out, I just know myself too well. I have never been able to pack for a trip more than 12 hours in advance. Case in point: waking up at 4am to pack my suitcase for my semester abroad in New Zealand. The alternative is just too stressful. After all, I'm going to need my toothbrush the morning of departure! And how can I possibly pick out a traveling outfit in advance? If it's chilly the morning I leave, God forbid I've already packed away my favorite fleece... So here we are, T-minus 6 hours until we depart for the airport, and I'm sitting in my pajamas with an unpacked suitcase writing a blog entry.
For those of you that know the background of our trip preparation, this should come as no surprise. Casey took care of all of the nitty-gritty details of planning the trip (ie: which countries we would go to and everything we'd do there). This freed me up to plan, well, nothing. And I couldn't have been happier about it. There was a brief period during which he felt bad for not including me and I felt bad for not contributing. It took us approximately 15 minutes to establish that there was a reason for our prospective roles. I could not have cared less which local train we'd be taking from Antibes to Blois, and Casey could not have cared more.
This leaves me in an interesting predicament. You (the blog reader) and I are actually in very much the same position. I am excitedly anticipating the unveiling of what we will do in each city along our route. So in many ways, we'll be taking this journey together. Casey, on the other hand, has yahoo-ed and googled and yelped and highlighted and printed and purchased and just about memorized each detail of the trip. And, of course, he's been fully packed for weeks. So, after a year of planning and a year of not (respectively), Casey and I are both feeling fully prepared to embark on our journey.
...I just need to go pack.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Voetbal
For those of you stalwart soccer fans who are still following the World Cup, the Netherlands have just advanced to the final... And can you guess which country we'll be in when it takes place on Sunday?
Should be an exciting start to the vacation!
Should be an exciting start to the vacation!
Casey's Two Euro
Despite her use of the first-person singular in the previous post, I’m sure you’ll all be happy to know that Eliza won't be trekking across the Continent alone this summer. No, indeed -- I’ll be right there beside her, wearing a baseball cap and Dayglo fanny pack, holding my maps upside down and miscalculating times on Europe’s 24-hour clocks, all while speaking to the locals with a mangled accent derived from two years of remedial high-school French.
I’m sure she’s thrilled.
Like her, I’m also new to blogging, and really have no idea how to entertain such an anonymous audience. What if nothing exciting happens to us? What if exciting things happen, but I can’t do them justice? What if – gasp! – nobody comments on a single one of my posts?? I’ve considered making up crazy stories to hold your attention – something about frolicking through the peaks of the Alps, teaching local children important life lessons, and dramatically risking my own life on their behalf – but then I realized that I was just daydreaming about The Sound of Music again.
In the end, we’ll just do our best to pass on a few anecdotes and keep you all up to date. It may not be as captivating as Julie Andrews breaking into song, but hey, what is?
So bookmark this page and stay tuned!
I’m sure she’s thrilled.
Like her, I’m also new to blogging, and really have no idea how to entertain such an anonymous audience. What if nothing exciting happens to us? What if exciting things happen, but I can’t do them justice? What if – gasp! – nobody comments on a single one of my posts?? I’ve considered making up crazy stories to hold your attention – something about frolicking through the peaks of the Alps, teaching local children important life lessons, and dramatically risking my own life on their behalf – but then I realized that I was just daydreaming about The Sound of Music again.
In the end, we’ll just do our best to pass on a few anecdotes and keep you all up to date. It may not be as captivating as Julie Andrews breaking into song, but hey, what is?
So bookmark this page and stay tuned!
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