From Paris with Love

We flew out of Helsinki in the early morning of January 5th. Our destination was Paris, where we intended to spend several days celebrating Christina's 30th birthday with at least a bit of decadence in a journey that has otherwise been characterized by sticking to a tight, frugal budget.

The city was magical, and all of the supposed snootiness that one hears of Parisians (especially towards Americans) never became apparent. Indeed, after the emotionally distant, typically indifferent and occasionally frosty social reception we became used to in Northern Europe and the Baltic area, Parisians seemed downright charming. We stumbled through our broken French, which surely helped, but the place was bound to leave a positive mark. We dove into all the city had to offer, covering an immense amount of ground over three days with a combination of subway mastery and many self-guided tours taken on foot. The sights and history of Paris were fascinating and varied, and the city is brimming with places to explore, art to appreciate, and simple pleasures to be had. Since the trip brought many experiences and one big change to the trip, we decided to share Paris from separate viewpoints and with different entries.

Dave's Paris
I've known that Christina is something special for quite a long time. Hell, it was I who tracked her down at that first teaching conference way back in New Orleans three years ago. I engaged her in conversation after leaving some workshop ("The Visual Politics of Race," I believe.... something like that), followed her out into the French Quarter alone to go dancing with her and her teacher friends, and then charmed my way into our first date (which she will to this day tell you was a meeting she only intended to be brief and dismissive). She has made some of the biggest leaps herself, moving to Miami being one, so her foresight deserves credit as well, but my point is that I knew she was something to hold on to from the very beginning. And from the beginning of this trip I had plans to propose, especially after my dearest grandmother convinced me to spend my (at the time miniscule) ring-savings on something else and to accept the engagement ring my grandfather had once given to her, keeping it in the family. We visited Nana in her Tampa community on the way out of Florida, and she pulled me into her carpeted bedroom at one point when Christina was showering. She told me she sensed something about Christina and asked me if I thought she was the one. "Absolutely Nana, yes." She tucked the ring box into my hand, told me the story of how my grandfather gave it to her, and things were set in motion.

We have lived for this entire trip out of our two frame backpacks. Every zipper and every compartment is filled with some item deemed essential to our journey, and we've done well to keep things light (something that is aided by our policy of leaving one or more objects behind at every stop we make). Hiding something in these circumstances, however, is not easy. On many occasions Christina would be rooting around in our bags, looking for some thing or another and I would anxiously ask at her from across the room "what are you doing? What are you looking for? Tell me, I'll get it." She apparently thought nothing of it and chalked it up to me being militant about my packing (which I am), but for me I was sure that my cover was blown every time she went looking for a headlamp, her travel yoga mat, whatever.

The last day was the worst. Leaving Helsinki on some unknown airline, I transferred the ring out of our backpacks (which we checked as luggage) and tucked it into the small carry-on pouch that we kept with us as essential in case anything happened to our bags that we sent away on that airline conveyor belt before boarding, such an modern type of faith. Our first night was our intended visit to the Eiffel Tower, my target location, and I then had to keep the ring tucked in my jacket pocket. The night was blustery and cold, and every time she saddled up next to me to walk arm-in-arm or to hug in the waiting line for Eiffel Tower tickets I tried to discreetly shift her arms or spin her around into some awkward form of embrace so she wouldn't brush up against what was so obviously a boxy lump protruding out from my breast pocket. I was sure she'd felt it at least several times and was being a good sport, waiting for me as our walk around the upper tower progressed and wondering what was taking me so long. I had a whole thing planned out, a speech about our growth and our trials and our adventures together and how I wanted many more, but to be honest I can't remember what came out as the wind whipped about - howled - and the lights of nighttime Paris twinkled around us. I do remember that I abruptly dropped down and begged her to marry me, and she said yes. The city is a special place and brought us to a new place in our relationship. And now Christina can do the packing from here on out without me making a peep.

The rest of the city was a joy. We celebrated her birthday the next day, taking a fantastic walking tour through the Latin Quarter of the city and seeing several non-descript locations of great literary significance, from George Orwell's flat during his time as a dishwasher, to Hemmingways early apartments, and on to the cafe's frequented by Sartre and de Beauvoir. We then went for a cocktail at Harry's New York bar, a storied place that is said to have created the first Bloody Mary (which we tried, and it was delicious, at least one of the best three I've ever). We ended with a fantastic birthday dinner at a tucked-away restaurant called L' Pre Verre, which served fantastic and rich French cuisine.

Over the next few days we saw some of the most incredible sights of the trip. We fought through a wall of tourists for just a few serene moments to look at the Mona Lisa within the massive Louvre Museum. We were giddy with excitement at the Pantheon, a hulking monument that houses France's most prized historical figures; Christina had her moment with Victor Hugo, I had mine with Marie Curie. We stared in awe at some of the most impressive architecture (in the form of churches, always churches) that we've ever seen at Notre Dame and St. Sulpice. And we even made decapitation jokes (perhaps in poor taste) at the death site of Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI.

All in all, Paris will be a highlight of the trip and a highlight for life. I encourage anyone to go there, especially with a loved one.

Christina's Paris: 

After a rather long night in the airport and two flights, we finally made it to Paris! As we anxiously awaited our bags at baggage claim, we made our plans for the afternoon. I was excited to be in the city and knew our time was limited, but I was certainly exhausted. David seemed to be all too eager to drop our bags off at the hotel and head out to see the sights. Admittedly, I wanted to take advantage of all Paris had to offer, but in those moments as we waited for our bags, I was exhausted and the idea of a nap began to sound more and more inviting. Nonetheless, we whipped out our guide book, given to us by Indrek (Liisa's cousin) and planned our subway route to our hotel.  Upon arriving at our small and in need of some repair hotel room, we showered and ventured out into the city. Although it had been raining when we first arrived, the sun had since peered through and we reveled in the sunlight - something we had been missing in Estonia. We grabbed a quick bite to eat and then made our way to the Eiffel Tower, our first landmark. 

It has certainly been a blessing to travel at a time when tourism is fairly low. In general, we've had fairly easy entry into the famous sights across Europe, and while Paris was no different, there were certainly more tourists and longer lines than we would have expected for January. Nonetheless, we waited our turn, hugging each other for warmth marveling at the impressive structure above us. Eventually we purchased our tickets, boarded the elevator (keeping an eye out for pickpockets as the signs encouraged) and made our way to the second level of the tower.  Due to intense wind, tourists were not allowed to the upper levels of the tower.  Standing on the second level of the Eiffel it was clear why.  The wind howled about us as we looked over Paris, pointing out some the recognizable landmarks to each other. Despite my exhaustion I was so glad we'd made the effort. Before us was the city we'd spend the next few days exploring. The city I had only read about and seen in movies.

At some point, we found a tucked away corner with few tourists and ventured as close to the edge as the wind and our hearts would allow.  The wind howled about us and David began reflecting on our lives, our relationship, our future. In general, he's a reflective guy, but I chalked this particular moment up to the mystique and romance of this great city. I strained to hear him above the noise of the wind, affirming his thoughts about our year thus far and the next steps we had been discussing as of late. Suddenly, he whipped me around, pulled me from the edge and drew me closer to a beam, blocking some of the wind. To my utter surprise, he bent down on one knee and asked me to marry him. Tears welled up in my eyes and the words I wanted to say caught in my throat and all I could say, over and over again was "yes, yes, yes." With the wind whipping about us, and the howling of it surrounding us, I crouched down closer to David, and continued to utter the only word I could form "yes, yes, yes."  

Afterwards, I could in no way shake the ear to ear smile from my face and we walked arm and arm around the tower once more and then made our way back down to street level to further explore the city. 

I was truly surprised by the proposal. At no moment had I even sensed, what he later confessed, was his awkward shifting of my hands and body away from the ring in his pocket. Up until then I had merely thought David was an intense packer, always packing the bags himself, anxious that I would disturb the neat and ordered system and eager to find my yoga mat or make up kit for me. In fact, when he almost jumped across the conveyer belt that morning to keep a security guard from opening our carry-on in our view, I thought he had hidden some small birthday trinket purchased in Estonia.  I was shocked to find out he had been hiding an engagement ring in our bags the entire time. Since announcing our engagement, I've gotten quite a few requests for pictures and descriptions of the ring. Let me say this... I feel honored to be able to wear Nana's (David's grandmother) ring.  I've been told when she was given the ring, the three bands represented the past, present and future of her relationship with her husband. My past with David has been storied - from our chance meeting, to our immediate falling for each other, my epic move to Miami and our decision to take off this year.  Our present is glorious and as we travel together and explore these new countries, cities and ways of living we've only grown closer and more in love. I'm looking forward to the future we've discussed and the one we can't even begin to imagine. I feel incredibly lucky to have found (or been found, according to him) by such a wonderful man. 

Of course, Paris will always have a special place in our hearts. We spent the rest of our trip taking self guided walking tours, eating delicious food and counting the number of Parisians we saw carrying a baguette.  Aside from David's romantic and magical proposal, I will always remember eating quiche in the park, meeting an American couple at a creperie, combing the shelves of a used English language bookstore, visiting to the tomb of my favorite author, Victor Hugo, walking arm and arm along the Siene, and visiting the former homes and haunts of some of my favorite writers. All in all this was a birthday better than any I could have dreamed of. A perfect Parisian stay. 

The Eiffel Tower from below. Dave is sweating at this point.

Focault's Pendulum (modeling the rotation of the Earth) in the center of the Pantheon. A science teacher's dream.

Voltaire's tomb in the lower crypt level of the Pantheon. 

Marie and Pierre Curie. Dave has told many a science class about these two, and now look at him. They're in there!!

A highlight in Christina's literary life, by Victor Hugo's tomb. 

The St. Sulpice Church. It annoyed us that the guide book included this in the "Literary Loop" walking tour only because it was the setting of a few scenes in Dan Brown's the Davinci Code, and we almost skipped the place for that reason. When we walked by it however, we were awestruck and had to venture inside. 

Harry's New York Bar and it's legendary Bloody Mary. We studied the bartender intently as he mixed and here's what we learned: ice halfway up the glass, two salt shakers shaken for several seconds over the ice, a couple dashes of tabasco, a few healthier dashes more of worchestershire sauce, an equal amount of lemon juice, vodka up to about two inches from the top of the glass, topped off with tomato juice. Simple, delicious, and high-octane.

The Church of Mary Magdalene, an impressive structure.

Christina enjoying one of the many crepes of the trip. They were all very delicious, and this version (with sugar, butter and lemon) was her favorite. The Louvre Art Museum in the background.

There she is, the Mona Lisa. Christina is appropriately unimpressed by the flocking, picture-snapping tourists. Just look at the damn thing!

An entry into our photo-series "Why Tourists Are Crazy." One out of every ten seemed to actually possess the reverence that such a work of art would seem to demand. The other nine were either a) snapping pictures of the painting constantly, b) looking away from the painting and snapping a picture back at themselves with the painting in the background, or c) pickpockets.

The Cathedral of Notre Dame at night. A stunning piece of gothic architecture.

Paris lights in the background of our last night.

Where Louis XVI was beheaded during the French Revolution. Dave, simulating.

Hemingway and Hadley's first Paris apartment. In the romance of walking the streets of the Latin Quarter we toyed with the idea of staying in Paris, finding our own small apartment and trying our hand at the artists' life. We soon came to realize, times are not what they once were. In a bookstore we found some of Hemingway's accounts of his life in Paris, where he and Hadley were able to live on just $30 a month. How times have changed. We will be coming home. :-) 

Our hotel was just off this busy market street. Every morning the streets were filled with fruit sellers, the smell of baked goods and vendors of delicious, rotisserie chicken. 

Our attempts at capturing gay Paris in a pose...

Estonia for the Holidays

After reveling in the food and beverage options of Germany, we headed for our holiday destination: Estonia. If you’re not sure where Estonia is, exactly, look at a map of Europe and keep going north. You’ll find the capital of Estonia, Tallinn, just across the Batlic Sea, south of Helsinki.

As many Estonians were all too ready to remind us, December is not an ideal time to visit Estonia. For the purposes of our journey it worked perfectly, as a good friend of mine (Christina's), Liisa, is from Estonia and was going to be around for the holidays and graciously offered to host us. 

Our flight to Estonia was on Ryaniar, a budget airline which saves on operational cost by choosing airports with low or no airport taxes. So, when you are flying Ryanair and your ticket says “Dusseldorf,” for example, your flight is unlikely to be out of the Dusseldorf airport, but a small, former military base a considerable distance from the commercial airport. In our case, this airport outside of Dusseldorf was Weeze. We arrived in Weeze only to find out the hostel we had booked was 700 meters from the airport. There was no shuttle, and it was dark and rainy. Given our early morning flight, we decided to forego the sketchy hostel stay and long walks in the dark and pouring rain, and opted instead for a night in the airport waiting area. We were not alone. By the time our flight departed at 6am the next morning, the waiting area was full of sleeping travelers spread across benches, tucked away in corners and propped against luggage. Perhaps the most notable person in the airport was the late night cashier at the only open café. From the moment of her arrival until she left the next morning, she fed the gambling machine (ubiquitous in Europe).  When the café was empty she sat in front of the machine continually feeding it change. At busy times, she hastily served customers, her eyes fixed on the scrolling images of fruit, gold stars and dollar signs. At one point she became frustrated with patrons who wanted to try their hand at the machine. We only hope she wasn’t using the café proceeds to feed her habit.

We arrived in Estonia at 10am the next morning, exhausted and cramped from our night. Liisa, my close friend from college, met us at the airport and immediately whisked us away to a local café.  We were astonished at the prices.  A breakfast plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast only set us back about 4 Euros each. Estonia was going to ease the financial hit we took in Switzerland for sure!

Liisa lives in Tallinn, Estonia the capital and one of Estonia’s three largest cities. Tallinn sits right on the shores of the Baltic Sea and our ride from the airport to her house made of straw (we kid you not), was picturesque.  Tallinn’s city center was quite walkable and after a few days of recovering from our travels and adjusting to the few hours of daylight, we set out to explore. The city center consists of a new city and an old town. Old Town is the remnant of Tallinn’s medieval days, complete with a city wall, medieval towers and stunning churches. Through our sightseeing and conversations with Estonian’s we learned that Estonia has been conquered multiple times by many of its neighbors, from the Swedes, to the Germans, to the Russians. According to some, this history of invasion explains the average Estonian’s suspicion of foreigners, and guarded personality.  It was not uncommon for people to appear shocked at the sight of a brown-skinned person in their city, or for shop clerks and waiters to be distant and less than inviting. Still for most of our stay we were in the company of friends and were wholly welcomed at Liisa’s family and friends' Christmas and New Year’s events. We were particularly grateful to Liisa's parents, who gave us a wonderful cabin to sleep in - complete with cozy fireplace and the standard wood-heated sauna - and who welcomed us into their Christmas traditions, most notably the Christmas Eve practice of performing some sort of act for each gift received. I joined Liisa for a choreographed dance of 'Santa Baby,' Dave and I together gave a candlelight reading of 'A Night Before Christmas,' and then we both sang a round of jingle bells while Dave juggled. They were goofy performances, but they certainly brought a high level of energy to the proceedings, characterized otherwise by most others reciting a piece of familial significance or reading a dirty Christmas poem (these had never happened before apparently, and only occurred this year because Liisa's beloved grandmother had passed away earlier in the year and opened the floor to more salacious offerings). 

Perhaps the toughest part of our Estonian stay was getting used to the short days. On average, there was about 5 – 6 hours of daylight. The sun rarely poked through gray skies and the cold weather made it difficult for us to muster up the energy to hit the pavement the way we have in previous cities. Nevertheless, we managed to visit a few museums, found one of the best bar’s we’ve encountered so far (Porgu... amazing beer selection, amazing wings), take a road trip to Latvia, and make friends with a very talented Swede.

Enjoy the photographs, captions and movies. 

Pay public toilets are everywhere in Europe. This one was rumored to cost Estonia 60,000 Euros to build. 

 

As we mentioned, Tallinn is a medieval city and large portions of the city wall that once surrounded the elevated city center are still in tact. Here, Dave becomes the latest in a long line of conquerors. 

Every few years this natural spring erupts. It's a national event in Estonia, and we were there to witness it. 

Christina and Liisa. Liisa drove us around quite a bit and gave us some fantastic tours, as only a local and a friend could do. This was a lunch stop at the Saku brewery. 

A view of Tallinn from a lookout spot atop the city wall. Notice the reflector on David's arm. For obvious safety reasons (i.e. it is dark almost any time you will be walking, commuting, etc) it's required that everyone in Estonia wear a reflector. In the background is the Baltic.

One of our road trips was to Riga, Latvia. Latvia was an interesting country to visit.  Although it is a member of the European Union, it has its own currency, the Lat. Latvia has not satisfied all of the requirements to be a complete member and thus to have the Euro.  The country is currently being supported by the IMF. Although the city center was beautiful, on the outskirts of the city, the countries financial difficulties were evident.
 In this photo, David and Liisa enjoy a happy hour, two drinks for the price of one, special. 

For the holidays we stayed with Liisa's family just outside of Tartu, one of Estonia's other major cities.  David,  curious about a statue in Tartu city center. 

A view of beautiful church ruins in Tartu city center. 

Liisa and her dog Moyna on  walk to the village swing. 

One of our most memorable moments of the trip will surely be New Year's Eve. We were invited to a party in Tallinn's Old Town.  The beautiful apartment, had a wonderful balcony overlooking Tallinn. At midnight the city erupted in fireworks to ring in the New Year. Light snow fell and the sky lit up in colors as we rang in 2012. 

Flame thrower just outside of The Old Hansa - A medieval themed restaurant.  Elizabeth, a friend, sent us gift certificates for this attraction. We had a fun time eating amidst candle light, and taking a trip back in time. 

Entering Tallinn's medieval city gates. 

During our stay we became close with Jimi, a young Swede, who lived in the apartment below Liisa. Jimi was a very talented video artist and had been interviewing for jobs at prized video game companies. Just before we left, Jimi was hired by Ubisoft, his dream company!  The night just before we left, Jimi packed his things and was off to Bulgaria to begin his career as a video game artist. We wish him well and look forward to crossing paths again. 

We departed Estonia under the cover of darkness for a very early morning ferry ride to Helsinki, Finland. We had a day in Helsinki before our trip to Paris and again we opted for an airport stay. This time, the prohibitive cost of hotel rooms and food in Helsinki drove our decision.  The airport had free (though finicky) wifi and we managed to stake out a spot on the couch-like benches of an airport café. We spent the night alternating between sleep, reading and catching up on some email correspondence.

Since we had the day to spare we explored the city of Helsinki, visiting perhaps the most intriguing church we’ve seen yet – The Church of Rock.  This church is built literally inside of rock and from the outside all that is visible is the center dome and the entrance. Helsinki is a fairly small city and we were able to put our bags in train station lockers and then explore the city on foot. We visited a few notable landmarks, sought refuge from the cold and snow in a rather unimpressive bar and ate our delicious sandwiches we packed for our long day. Overall, it was a great jaunt, and a chance to stretch our legs before our long night and subsequent journey to Paris.

Once it was light enough, we ventured out onto the deck of the ferry. 

Our view as we began to dock in Helsinki. 

The Senate building in Helsinki. Despite the cold, there were tour bus loads of people snapping pictures. 

We never understood why there was this enormous Rubiks Cube in the Helsinki Senate Square. At first we thought it was because it's inventor Erno Rubik was Finnish, but it turned out he was Hungarian. Either way, Dave grew up hating that thing and it's thwarting smugness. 

The altar of the rock church. 

A view from the balcony of the rock church. 

The outside of the rock church. Only the dome and the entrance (not in this picture) are visible form the outside. 

A view of downtown Helsinki. An expensive city, but filled with beautiful architecture and a bustling populace.

Stuttgart with Stu

After leaving Munich we entered into a welcome phase of our trip, whereby we arranged to stay with friends of ours for the weeks leading up to the holidays. These were visits with no expectation of working for our keep and where we were saved from being in hostels/hotels in foreign cities with no one to connect us to the local scene.

After some quick and effective planning over the previous two months, we arranged for the first of these "comfort stays" with a good friend of ours, Stu Java. I (Dave) got to know Stu very well during my time in Miami. After leaving South Florida, Stu has since been living in Stuttgart and working for the U.S. Defense Department for the last two years. He's a fantastic guy and a great friend, and he welcomed us into his home with grace and kindness. After our previous several weeks, with the chaotic adjustments in Switzerland and the flurry of activity and poor hostel-sleep in Munich, his downstairs guest space (complete with full-sized bed and a sleek bathroom/shower) felt downright luxurious, practically a five-star hotel for us smelly and weary travelers. We had a chance to catch up on some sleep and some long-overdue laundry, and then for the next several days we saw yet another fascinating German city, though this time with the nuanced approach afforded only by having a local companion to show you the way.

We toured Stuttgart's Christmas Markt, similar to many of the others that we have seen throughout Europe and yet much more impressive. It was certainly one of the biggest Christmas Markts we'd seen, with some of the best food offerings. There was the standard, and oh-so delicious Bratwurst - Dave's 40th, by rough estimate - and some funky warm drinks, including the ubiquitous hot, mulled "gluhwein," as well as hot mead (honey wine, Christina's favorite) and another beverage that Stu accurately described as hot, liquid cake batter....with booze. Stuttgart also had one of our favorite variations on the Christmas Markt model; the Medieval Markt, complete with food, drink, activities and vendors that were all gleefully stuck in the middle ages. Stu is an avid military history enthusiast and is well-versed in his Scottish heritage, while Christina and I are avid fantasy book dweebs. Needless to say we had a great night at the medieval markt, indulging in a few purchases and quite a few food and drink offerings.

Stu also showed us around some of Stuttgart's historical sites, giving us a tour of some major government and historical buildings, past city fortifications, and other parts of the surrounding city landscape, many of which are covered by extensive grape fields for wine production. Perhaps most welcome were the tours of Stu's local haunts, his favorite bars and eateries and the great folks we met along the way. The highlight of these were two Irish bars. There was the Auld Rogue, which served up a cheeseburger for the ages (it'd been a while for us Americans) and frothy beers in front of a TV displaying NFL games to a crowd of ex-pats. And then there was O'Reillys, which was a bit more traditional of a pub. On the night we showed up there was a group of local musicians playing traditional Irish songs to each other as they sat in a circle in a dimly-lit corner of the bar, downing pints and largely ignoring the random folks around them. We stayed there until closing, and that scene of sipping brews with our friend and quietly listening to the crew of men, young and old, as they belted out somber tunes, will be a memory that stands out. If you find yourself in Stuttgart, go to these two pubs and you will not be disappointed.

In all, Stu welcomed us into a glimpse of his life there in Stuttgart, and with the comfort of his home and the several home-cooked meals he whipped together for us (good cajun, southern cooking), we left feeling recharged and incredibly grateful.

After four days in Stuttgart, we joined Stu and his friend Steve on our train out of the city, ultimately parting ways at the Koln train station. Stu and Steve carried on to some of the towns surrounding Dusseldorf for a weekend of exploring local pubs, while Christina and I went further to some obscure, former-military base that was the departure point for our flight to Estonia, where we would spend the rest of our holidays. After a sleepless night in the airport, we took our rickety flight to Tallinn (Estonia's capital) and left Germany behind once and for all. Our time in Stuttgart was a fantastic send-off from the country that we had grown to love so much, and Stu was a great friend and guide at a time in our trip when we truly needed both.

Until the next.

Our trio for the time in Stuttgart; Dave, Christina and Stu-Pac.

Noel, the manager and bartender at the Auld Rogue. He runs a great pub and he worked the room effortlessly, never allowing a pint glass to be empty for too long. He gave us some great stories and some great suggestions for cities to visit later in our trip, specifically in northern Portugal. Pay Noel a visit if you find yourself in Stuttgart.

We saw yet another variety of Christmas Markt in Stuttgart, the Finnish version. Gluhwein with spiced chili vodka was the drink, and fire-smoked salmon was the dish. 

Some of the fascinating architecture in Esslingen, a town just outside Stuttgart and the location of the medieval markt.

A view from the ancient city fortifications that lined Esslingen. The grape vines covered countless hillsides such as this, producing mainly Pinots and Rieslings. 

Dave and Christina, manning the city walls.

Practicing our skills at the medieval markt, complete with an archery teacher in authentic garb. Two euros bought you five chances to shoot an arrow through a dangling lemon, about 15 feet away. Dave did not hit the lemon. 

The man with his back to the camera, dressed in a medieval cloak and elf ears, knew he had an interested customer and gave his pitch. Another, not-pictured vest was made of deluxe red leather and had intricate runes carved into it. "This is for show," he said, and the one shown here, which Stu ultimately bought, "this is for fighting." Who the elf-man is fighting remains a mystery, but the vest was awesome.

Christina has always wanted a cloak, simple as that. In the Stuttgart medieval markt, she got one. American fashion will never be the same when she gets back stateside with this thing.

Stu, Steve, and Dave on our train ride out of Germany. Our final Deutschland beer and great company to share it with.

We had all of twenty minutes in Koln, but that was enough to see it's famed cathedral, which was located right outside the central station. It was a hulking, gothic site to behold.

Munich and Bavaria

After leaving Switzerland we took a train out of Lucern to Munich, visiting a city that is renowned for all the typical stereotypes of Germany; liederhosen, steins of beer and huge beerhalls.... essentially the characteristics of the region known as Bavaria (Bayern). We stayed at a hostel right outside the central Hauptbanhof and had three days to explore the city and the region. Switzerland had left us exhausted and craving the comforts of Germany that we had grown to love, and Munich did not disappoint. We took a day trip to visit some world-famous, beer-brewing Monks at the Andechs Monastery, and took another day to venture to Munich's outskirts to visit Dachau, the first Nazi concentration camp. In between we sampled many varieties of Bavarian eateries, which we grew quite fond of. We were particularly obsessed with the traditional Munich breakfast of "weisswurst" (Bavarian veal sausage, packed with savory meat and subtle herbs) and pretzels served with sweet mustard. And of course, served with a beer. We (Dave) challenged ourselves one morning to be the earliest beer-drinkers at the restaurant, and it was not even close. We entered a wursthaus at 9:30 am and nearly everyone was drinking a beer already. Christina's order of a coffee seemed to truly throw the waitress through a loop and indeed we imagined that the coffee machine hadn't even been turned on yet. 

In any case we'll keep this entry brief and let the pictures do the talking. The scene at the infamous Hofbrauhaus was so wonderfully wacky that we actually took a video of the thing to try and capture what it was like. 

Oh, the tender caress of a German liter upon one's cheek. Switzerland had been hard on us, and Munich welcomed us with open arms and piping schnitzel.

The entrance to Dachau, where prisoners passed through the gate promising that "Work will set you free."

"The Bunker" at Dachau, where Nazi officers were based and special prisoners and interrogations were held. The doors shown here were to the holding cells, cramped spaces that felt rank with history. Some had plaques commemorating notable prisoners but most were vacant and spare.

A view of the prisoners' holding barracks, one of which has been reconstructed. Only the foundations have been maintained for the rest. At the far end is the crematorium. A terrible, grim place, but one we're glad to have seen.

The walkway leading up to the Andechs Monastery and Brewery. A glorious place.

Seeking the Monks who brew.

As is custom in Bavaria, restaurants are self-seating and contain only long tables where you find yourself sitting next to all manner of strangers. At Andechs we met this wonderful German couple, Greta and Willy. They introduced us to their beer preferences and a delicious cheese, paprika and beer spread that was great on pretzels, and then invited us to their home for a coffee before driving us to the S-Bahn station so as to save us from the taxi ride out of the mountains. Wonderful people.

Greta informed us of this Bavarian custom that we later saw at many other beerhalls, the "Stein Locker." Apparently these mug-shaped compartments are passed on from generation to generation, treasured and rarely made available to others, and then only by rigorous written application. Some of the locks looked like they were part of the passing-down, ancient and clunky things. Willy was giving an insider tip on how to procure a locker; call the Monastery every single day until they relented.

At the Hofbrauhaus, one of Munich's most famous beerhalls. Bavarian flavored chicken and a crispy pork steak, served with different varieties of potato. Uh-mazing.

Inside the Deutches Museum, a staggering six floors of technological and scientific history and exhibits.

Switzerland

After leaving the Lufts' farm, we knew any future work stay would have big shoes to fill. It was tough to say goodbye to the place we had come to know as home for over month.  We departed the Lufts on a Thursday morning bound for a train to Hamburg and then the overnight City Line train to Zurich, Switzerland. We were new to overnight train travel, but the City Night Line did not disappoint. Although we had not reserved a spot in the snazzy overnight births of the train, we did have very comfortable, reclining seats at the rear of the train and were not too far from the dining car - a dimly lit car serving up a few German specialities and of course, plenty of beer and wine. We ordered up some drinks and read our books before retiring to our reclining chairs for the evening.

David, Marcel Luft, Ute Luft and Christina outside the Lufts' home. You can follow the Lufts' life of self sustainability at Luft.de...the site is in German and any webpage auto-translations will be sloppy, but a hope of ours is to be a part of the translation/transfer of this information and knowledge into English. Stay tuned.

We arrived in Switzerland on Friday a little tired and in need of a good shower, but eager to explore a new country and meet our new host family.  Immediately, our experience in the Zurich hauptbonhof paled in comparison to any German train station we had spent considerable time in.   While we heard Switzerland was expensive, we were not prepared for just how outrageously expensive.  As far as the exchange rate from Dollars to Swiss Francs is concerned, the Swiss Franc was definitely better than the Euro, however, this exchange rate did us little favors given the high cost of goods in Switzerland.  The lockers at the train station cost us twice as much as our storage lockers in Hamburg, and a small wheat roll at the bakery was half the size and twice the cost as any we encountered in Germany. Although we asked others why Switzerland was so expensive, few could provide a clear explanation. After some preliminary online research we discovered the Switzerland contains one of the world's most stable economies. The Swiss have one of the lowest unemployment rates and the highest per capita incomes in the world. It is not a case of creative license when the Swiss banks are mentioned in movies as a place to white wash otherwise unclean money. Switzerland is in fact a safe haven for foreign investors. Today, it's largest industries include banking, chemical manufacturing, and precision and musical instruments.  Quite a few multinational corporations are Swiss, including Nestle, Hoffman-La Roche, Credit Suisse and the Swatch Group.

Our host family in Switzerland lived just outside of Lucern in the small village of Menzberg. From Zurich we took an hour long train ride and then a bus through steep Swiss hills.   Our family had not planned to pick us up from the train station, so armed with some rather unorthodox directions, we made our way to their farm house.  As we walked our way through town the views of the hills and the Alps were breathtaking. Although we took many photos, our one shot camera struggled to capture the picturesque landscape.  

A view of Menzberg from one of its many surrounding hills. 

The Bussman's, our host family, are dairy farmers, and together five adult children (ages 18-28), the grandparents and mom and dad live in a very large Swiss farm house. Immediately upon our arrival the mother exclaimed "Aye, aye, aye."  Although we had arrived earlier than she expected, we were not prepared for this less than enthusiastic greeting. Still, we did our best to quietly settle into our room and acquaint ourselves with the neighborhood. Eventually, Mrs. Bussman (Therese), came by our room to check in.  She immediately informed us she was not prepared to have us stay on the farm for the length of time we had previously discussed. We were certainly disappointed and caught off guard, as we had pre-arranged these dates months earlier. Although this conversation did little to help us feel welcomed, we accepted her limits and began making plans for an earlier departure. After a long few days of travel and a rather unwelcoming arrival, we felt rather weary and homesick.  Convinced that perhaps we had just started off on the wrong foot, we donned our two pairs of long johns and joined the family for dinner and a special outdoor Advent celebration, complete with St. Nicholas, live sheep and local children dressed up as the three Magi. The celebration was organized by the Catholic church in town, which many locals attend regularly.

Our first dinner at the Bussman's proved to be a jarring experience. Therese had prepared two Swiss pastries, one containing apples and cheese and the other a mixture of cheeses. While the pastries were tasty, we immediately noticed the family did not use plates or napkins. Each child cut pieces of the pastry with their bare hands and ate directly off the wooden kitchen table. Our pastries were consumed with piping hot milk - a regular drink at meals. 

Part of the wonder of traveling is the exploration of the way other people live, and thus an understanding of how they approach the problems of the world. We are open and eager to experience and interact with the world through the lens of our host families, and are not afraid to live their lives. That being said, as teachers, thinkers and readers we also know it is important to question the habits and beliefs of others. Questioning is the beginning of critical thinking. So, when Therese asked us not to wash her dishes with soap we politely questioned this practice, only to learn she did not believe in the existence of bacteria. During subsequent meals we watched this family with dirt caked hands, touch food meant for the entire table, lick their personal utensils and then place them in communal serving bowls to grab seconds and ultimately not wash their dishes. Meanwhile each member of the family seemed to be battling a cold. With each meal we became increasingly worried about the habits of the Bussmans, if for nothing else out of fear for our own health as travelers.  Finally, in an effort to keep ourselves healthy, and after being asked to only dry and put away dishes, we decided to discretely and as respectfully as possible, wash our dishes, with soap, before each meal. This was, apparently the last straw for Therese.  She confronted us about our discreet dish washing and insisted that if we wanted to wash our dishes, we had to leave her home. Perhaps if the Bussmans had been kinder people we could have been able to overlook the lack of table manners and the disbelief in bacteria. However, the Bussman's were not kind to us as travelers. When they did speak to us or ask us questions, they made many rude and snide remarks. In addition, despite the entire family's ability to speak English, they never spoke to us during meals, and instead, they spoke to each other in rapid Swiss German, never including us. This was certainly a shift from the inclusive and welcoming home of the Lufts.  Our Swiss experience taught us that each party approaching the workaway experience brings different hopes and dreams to the table. Some people, like the Lufts, hope to share their vision and practices. Others like the Bussman's seem to be looking for laborers and are not as interested in sharing their way of life.

Despite the disappointing and often times disturbing experiences in Switzerland, all was not lost and we will have some fond memories of our time in Switzerland. After being asked to leave the Bussman's we met up with the Hellmessen's (Anita and Ronnie), a young couple who lived just outside of Switzerland. We were so grateful for Anita's welcoming nature and hospitality we called her our angel. Anita and Ronnie live outside of Lucern in an area known locally as Little Yugo.  The area is mainly populated by immigrants to Switzerland. Anita and Ronnie have two beautiful, and incredibly intelligent children, Jason (age 5) and Justin (age 2).  Anita lived in the apartment above her sister, Sina, who had an adorable litte boy named David (age 1.5). We spent our last few days in Switzerland, helping this family through the daily chores of life and learning more about a very different side of the country. Sadly, what Anita and Sina had to share did not improve our view of Switzerland. Although Anita and Sina had lived in Switzerland since they were toddlers, and although they spoke flawless German Swiss, the Swiss themselves did not accept these Albanians (who emigrated from Kosovo) as true Swiss.  In fact, Sina, who married a Nigerian man, was afraid to take her young, mixed son, David out in public for fear of the racist comments and actions of ignorant Swiss citizens. According to this family hate crimes were not rare in Switzerland and Sina had more often than not been a victim of such hateful speech and actions. Despite their busy and sometimes difficult lives, Anita and Sina took us in as family members. They were incredibly generous people and were eager to share their lives with us. Together we cooked delicious meals,  played with the children and enjoyed the beautiful view of the Alps from her balcony.

Although both the Bussman's and the Hellmessen's had not traveled far from their homes their approach to others was drastically different. The Bussman's put on airs of superiority and often treated us as ignorant city dwellers. The Hellmessen's were curious about the world, and hopeful that one day they too could travel outside of Switzerland. In some ways we can be grateful to both families as they showed us sides of Switzerland we would never have encountered as mere tourists.

David, Anita and Christina at Cafe Sperber. This cafe became our refuge in Menzberg and a welcome spot for a drink, weiss (white) wine for Christina and an Eichhof (Switzerland's mainstay beer) for Dave. The chef and owner served us delicious local cuisine, including a schnitzel to die for and some wonderful venison stew served over spetzle noodles. 

It has been an unusually warm winter in Europe this far. This was the first snowfall in the Alps. 

A view of the snow covered hills of Switzerland and a true rarity in these parts, an enthusiastic woman of color.

Unlike the Lufts' the Bussman's were running a small scale factory farm. In winter the cows are kept tethered in the stables. The cows were enormous.

A view of Lucern from the main bridge. Though a beautiful city that was tucked right beneath the alps, it was hard not to lament our rapidly emptying pockets.