V is for Vienn-detta

Disclaimer:: Beware. Be afraid. B'ware'n'fraid. That last one's actual Viennese German, aka scheisser Deutsch. The pictures you will see in this will ruin your evening. The blatant ugliness-ness is of such high quality that we've had to reassess our assessment that the Colorado Rocky Mountains are the most ugliest place in the world. It's THAT bad. So B'ware'n'fraid, friends. With that said, enjoy the sarcasm.

A statue looks up from the book it's been reading forever. Maybe it heard something. Chris doesn't hear anything. She doesn't see what the statues looking at. Probably another huge-ass building. Or another statue. Chris just doesn't get it. And why should she? Maybe there's nothing to get. Maybe Vienna's just an ugly, hateful little city full of overlarge buildings, not-cute-at-all lacy doilies, and cloyingly sweet espresso serviceware.

You like statues? We got statues! We also have lilies. We have lilies near statues. Look up, and to the right. Up, and to the right... a big freakin' building! Must be V-freakin'-enna. Thats Empress Elizabeth. She was white. So they made her statue white. And then Chris took a picture trying to make her statue darker, but it only made it whiter.

I want to make a statue. First I need a statue holder. Then I need a statue. But I don't want you to be able to get to the statue, so I make unbelievably green greenery grow in such a way that it makes it difficult to see and enjoy the statue. Then I building huge guard-buildings to protect my statue. See them looming. That's what I call clear body language.

A rose by any other name is still in Vienna.

I had a nightmare once. Then I had it again. I called it Vienna. It had thousands of churches with thousands of pipe organs, and each of those pipe organs told me, in confidence, that they would rip themselves from their fixtures and balconies and eat me as soon as I turned away to run. In Vienna, there are a lot of disappointed pipe organs, but I dare not turn my back.

Remember when you were a hot dog, but you were so ashamed that you hid in your bun? Yeah, that's the kind of day Vienna's having. Again.

Sometimes all you want to do is go up the stairs. Or, if you're already up them, go back down again. It happens all the time, night and day, in other places around the world. In Vienna, however, you can't tell if the stairs are real, if the doorways lead anywhere, or if the light coming from above is from Heaven, or if you're just upside down and it's the hole to Hell you're about to fall toward. Another day in paradise, I say!

Through the use of a specially designed Hipstamatic lens, we can clearly see that Vienna is hell. Also, the women don't seem to be overly concerned, and the horse statues are getting ready to ride.

How many overt references to male genitalia does a building have to have to exhibit in order to exceed the local limit? In Vienna, apparently, it's more than 5. On another note, I'm wouldn't be surprised if it was OK to skydive into Vienna, risking impalement or worse on any of the 250,000 churchy spires that rise into the sky above the city like so many death traps from one of those Indiana Jones movies.

All this wouldn't be so tragic, but we came across this today. This stuffed bunny drank itself into a stupor and froze overnight. Turns out it only take a bunny a half bottle of beer to drink itself into insensibility. So who was drinking with him, as he slowly faded away? And who left him to die on the cold streets of … wait a minute. Damn you, Vienna!!!!

The Best Wine Shopping Trip EVER!!!

Again, to set the timeline, it's Sat, 9/25, but this posting is concerning Thursday, 9/23 while we were still in Mistelbach. Tchüss!!

I've made this a separate entry only because there is so much to say about Thursday, and I had to break it up. It was the next morning after my reintroduction to Austrian wine, and I was feeling a little... dry. Woosey. Not terrible, but not great either. Verena and the kids were over, and Christa made a big lunch of dumpling soup, schnitzle, salad, rice, and veggies, and I could only muster the soup and a few bites a food. What a shame, because it was really good. When we were out the night before, I had noticed a U-shaped bread/dessert, and Christa jumped on the opportunity to bake for us, but with the understanding that I got to assist. Now that the moment came, all I wanted to do was lie down. But it only took a few mintues of kneading and shaping, and then I crawled back to the bedroom to nurse my “wounds”.

<-- This is Max, the Wonder Puppy ;)

Around 5PM, it was time to see “The Cellar” again. In Austria, they have streets that are only wine cellars... no one can live around there burning their fireplaces, driving their cars, disturbing the wine. I remembered the kellerstrasse from our last visit when Christa took us to meet some friends of hers who had just purchased a wine cellar

as their retirement project. From that experience, I acquired the little green wine pitcher in our kitchen which you may or may not have noticed. It was an impulse gift from those kind people, and has served as a reminder and symbol of the hospitality and generosity that is characteristic of our time here.

First goal was to drive by the wine district in Poysdorf, another small town only 7 or 8 km away and right along the route to Bruno, Czech Rep. As I had mentioned before, this is a very Catholic area, and there are just as many public statues and plaques dedicated to the Church as there are for wine-making. The landscape surrounding these towns is lush and fertile with

rows of grapevines, winter wheat, and dried sunflowers covering every available inch. It's different here than in the states. Rather than acres and acres of just corn or wheat, they divide their farmland into long, narrow strips of crops creating a patchwork quilt of colors that does not need to be appreciated from the window seat.

Our first stop was a memorial site perched on top of a rocky formation between Mistelbach and

the Czech border. After the 2^nd World War ended, any German-speaking person was kicked out of the Czech Republic, and were forced to walk back West keeping only what they could carry. The path that they took was referred to as the Brünnerstrasse Death March. Today, it's a concrete road dotted with signs and religious markers to remind travelers of the lives lost during thatperiod. At the top of the hill, a small, flat, rocky stage is surrounded by benches providing a space for services surrounded by a warm landscape in stark contrast to its tragic history. For us, it was a place to stretch our legs, feel the sun and wind against our faces, and gave Max (super puppy extraordinaire) a place to explore and eat grass ;)

I referred to “The Cellar” earlier, and it's in quotations because it's much much more than a simple Austrian cellar. It's more like a labyrinth, and was constructed by connecting a number of pre-existing cellars together over the years. Now, it's the kind of place to hold weddings, receptions for important dignitaries, and to entertain your American friends then they come to town. The entry was nothing, a simple green door that required a key about the size of my forearm to get into. From there on, it was dramatic lighting, ancient brick walls, dusty wine bottles, and the kind of furniture a monk in the 15^th century might be accustomed to. I'll let the pictures do most of the talking, but there are certainly a few things to note. The cellar's walls were built with what looked like small fireplaces, one right after the next, and were just stacked with wine bottles. Each was marked with a small sign to indicate the type of wine and it's production year as most of them did not have labels. Other favorite moment, someone had stuck the corks into the nooks of the walls as they continued to empty them at whatever party they held there recently (apparently it's a sign that you liked the wine). Christa and Tony just walked around picking out bottles as they went, and Max was plenty happy tearing apart the corks on the floor... the most memorable wine-shopping trip EVER.

Afterwards, we made our way back to the house via the scenic route. Can't ignore the sign that says Fotostop, so we hopped out of the car and made our way around the vineyards and down another kellerstrasse back to Tony and the car waiting below. I've never had wine grapes from the vine, and it was a wonderful experience to taste them all before they were harvested. Again, I'll let the pictures do the talking as there are no words for what we saw that day.

I didn't eat much last night, and Sean went out with Johannes to an informal reunion of Joy of Cooking. Today thus far has mostly been writing and working with the Gimp (photos), and Johannes has stolen Sean away for a few hours of recording. Tomorrow, we head back to Vienna again.

Killer Puppies... stay tuned for happy babies...

So, the set the timeline. I'm posting this 9/25, Sat night, but it's about the last few days... wrote it yesterday morning. We're in Vienna. Enjoy!

Well, it's Friday, and our time in Mistelbach ends tomorrow morning. I'm not sure where the world ends and heaven begins here. There's a how-to manual somewhere referencing Mistelbach on how to live the good life, but someone is being selfish with it. There seems to be no end to sunshine, the fertile ground, the wind, or generosity. This is probably the first stretch of our vacation that really feels like lazy vacation. Christa keeps trying to kick us out of the house, but it's the first day of fall, and the cool damp air is like another comforter and lulls me to bed for an afternoon with the e-book.

After Salzburg, we made our way into Vienna on the hunt for the internet. We met Julia, a dancer from Vienna, at the Munich exchange and she invited us to their Tuesday night dance as well as set up some housing for us for the evening. Sean remembered where there was a Starbucks by the opera house, and so we set off using my cell phone like a water stick, sweeping it from side to side in search of signal as we made our way down the street. After about 45 frustrating mintues trying to get our internet phone program to work, soy latte, and a choco chip cookie, we gave up and just made our way to the dance.

The venue was great, a little basement in the bottom of a cafe in the 7th district. The walls were dark and covered in paint, the floor a deep-colored hardwood, and the lighting was mellow. It would have been great for a Halloween party, or some vampire game to tell you the truth. But instead, original 30's and 40's big band recordings were blasting overhead, and folks were just trying to make the best of the small space. I don't see myself as the unapproachable type, but not until the end of the night did people work up the gupta to ask me to dance. Not that I didn't enjoy myself in the mean time. I met a woman who had lived on Long Island for a number of years who now ran the office at a osteopath school, and an American named Kyle living in Vienna while he was finishing up his Master's in Econ. Sean had no shortage of partners, and pretty much kept moving the majority of the evening. Good beer, good dancing, good times.

Our host Anna is an art student and graphic designer studying film in Vienna. She rents a little studio apartment in the 5th district right along the river front (more notable for the design of the canal rather than any actual water being there). She was much too gracious, and gave up her bedroom so she could work on some projects through the evening. Thus far, everyone in Austria has been fantastic about speaking English, and whether they had the words or the phrases right, they always try and usually ask for the correct grammer. We had a great conversation in the morning, with city sounds and soft sunlight filling in the quiet moments. After putting our packs together again, it was out the door and off to the café.

The night before on our walk to Anna's, we spotted a small, outdoor Art Deco café along the “river front”. As it turns out, it was one of Anna's recommendations and favorite places, so we made our way back and parked ourselves under a tree in the courtyard. One of the truth's of Europe is soda is expensive, done and done. Sure, you can still grab a 2L at the grocery store for a fair price, but in restaurants, it's an amazing rip-off. What would amount to about $3 US gets you a small glass, 0.2L. My co-worker's can attest to my bad soda habit the last few weeks I was at work. While here in Europe, I've had 2 small servings, and that's it. My COFFEE habit has been out of control, but we won't get into that now. ;) Another truth of Europe is that most cafés assume you have all the time in the world. You find your place, set yourself down, and may not see a server for 10-15 minutes. Once they are there, get your WHOLE

order in, because again, you may not see them for another 15 minutes after that. In some circumstances, they're legitimately busy. Other times, they're just having a cigarette in the other room.

The train out to Mistelbach was short and sweet, maybe an hour. Sean lived in this part of Austria after he graduated college for almost a year doing a teaching assistanceship at one of the local high schools teaching English. It was during this time that he met the Grills. Mr. Grill (Tony) was the librarian, and also sang with the choir. His son Johannes also was involved in music, and Sean and him formed a small cover-band called Joy of Cooking. They've all kept in touch throughout the years, even if only just a few words now and again. The last time we were here was 4 years ago just before Sean started nursing school. Tony picked us up at the train station, and it has been sweet sensations ever since ;)

Mrs. Grill (Christa) is an amazing hostess. Coffee time is no small matter. She brings out the full gear... dessert plates, sweet apricot jam, breads/pastries, whole milk... the works. Johannes, his wife Verena, and their 2 sons (Konstantin and Julian) made their way over when they could. And then it was off to the high school for some meat and wine. Yes, the high school. High schools out here are clearly a bit different than they are in the states. Think of them more like prep schools. At the school center, there are a few different programs. First and foremost, of course, is the vintner's school. This part of Austria contains the wine district, and there are vineyards everywhere. In fact, they only make 2 things out here... wine and Catholics, and I'm not sure what they make more of. They also have a technical school, and more of a generalized school with science, music, etc... The last is where Sean spent most of his time. Where we ended up was a small restaurant associated with the farming/wine program. This is the time of year when the sturm is ready, a sweet drink made from grapes, but reminds me somewhat of a cider. And you do not toast with sturm, we made this mistake. They consider it more like a meal (not sure why), so Nooooo toasting. And of course we had the typical Austrian meal, bread, meat and cheese. And it was GOOOOD :D It was the caliber of food you could only find in artisanal shops at home, and we still had to take some home. To feed 4 people with wine only cost $34 Euro... excellent.Afterwards, we made our way to spend time with the music teacher at the Borg, Georg Gauss. Sean knew him 10 years ago, but they had not seen or heard from each other this whole time. He and his wife Sabina had just built a new house, and we were invited over for wine and conversation. And wine we did... 4 bottles worth. Needless to say, I was overly tipsy, but it was a wonderful night.

A Quick Stop in Salzburg, Austria

Wow... Salzburg... wow. I likey. We only had about 3 and a ½ hours there, but I clipped off some great shots of the Dom, had my first glass of wine since landing in Europe, and at least got to admire the city. Here are some of the nicer shots. Off to Vienna!!

Brief Education Moment: The Salzburg Dom was one of the main avenues for Mozart and his music. The 2nd picture down shows the main organ he would have played, but the entire building has 5 separate organs total. The first image shows the church from the outside, and the rest are various images of the inside (clearly). I shot off a bunch, but it would take forever to upload them all. Enjoy!!

München und Oktoberfest

Hey hey hey- So for reference, Sean and I are in Vienna, but again, our iffy connection to the world wide web forced me to post the summary of our time in Munich a few days late. Enjoy tho!

"Sean and I are currently camped out next to one of the news stands at the Munich Hauptbanhof waiting for our next train, next phase, next adventure. Unfortunately, our next adventure will be 30 min late ;) Sean's doing some songwriting which leaves me ample opportunity to write up on the weekend.

Well, despite the hooligans/bathroom incident, the rest of our trip to Munich was rather pleasant. At this point, the pay-as-you-go cell phone we got for Germany was no longer useful (that's a whole story in itself), and we couldn't quite reach our hostess Christine yet. So we decided to start heading her direction and hope for the best.

Munich is BEAUTIFUL, a crazy mish-mash of modern store fronts and antique buildings. We arrived on Saturday, and Oktoberfest had just begun. Streets were crowded with tourists, and there were more dirnd'ls and lederhosen than I certainly had anticipated. Apparently about 10 years ago, it became rather fashionable to don the traditional dress for the festival, and there was even a backlash against the more revealing, mini-skirt versions (although we saw plenty of those as well). However, there was no backlash toward the tight, leather knickers the men had to wear... even had the button-up panel in the front for... you know ;) Anywho, got to Christine's to find both her and Andrew Sutton (dance teacher and world-wanderer) at the door. After some nice catch-up time, we headed out for the Friday night dance.

The ballroom was beautiful, and the music had me walking down memory lane big time. Easy, slow lindy played all night. I mean, when was the last time YOU heard Indigo Swing in a DJ set? Anyone?!? AND, my dear old friend Clint Luckinbill was there... I haven't seen this guy in what... 5 years? I was just teleported back to my first, impressionable years as a dancer in a matter of minutes. Sean and I both had wonderful dances that night, met many amazing people, and rightfully earned the deep sleep we had that night.

Christine's apartment is on the top floor right across the street from the east train station in Munich. If Sean and I could find a place like this in Seattle, I'd be sold. The space is vaulted ceilings in every room with skylights, 2 bedroom, 1.5 bath, a small deck, and a nice open living room/kitchen set-up. Her roommate was currently in St. Petersburg, so we had a room to ourselves in which we allowed our backpacks to thoroughly explode. After having to repack almost every morning for the last week, that felt really good ;) And Christine was SOOO flexible with us, our schedule, and was just such a warm hostess... thankyouthankyouthankyou lovely lady. That's Christine below ;)

Sunday afternoon was our day at the festival. Sean was booked to play blues for the Sunday late-nite which earned both of us admittance to the Munich Lindy Exchange for the entire weekend, a free 1L beer for each of us, and 5 hours in the Lowenbrau tent with the rest of the dance crew. In some ways, Oktoberfest wasn't what I expected. I certainly wasn't expecting the amusement park, the onslaught of children, and the sheer number of Aussies present. The tents are gargantuan... we were told they start setting up for the festival in June. Sheesh. Makes you wonder why they don't just leave the whole mess up all year long. Anywho, we were up on one of the balconys located on either end of the main floor. In the middle was a sizable bandstand with a complete brass band playing traditional German songs, playing drinking games with the crowd, and generally being entertaining. I don't know how they pull it off. The only American equivalent I can think of is if you could get a Revolutionary War re-enactment drum & fife corps to keep a group of frat boys entertained for 8-10 hours straight. Can't see it happening. After Sean and I had our 1L beer, ½ chicken, and potato dumpling, we just made our way around the fair grounds, talked to people, and took a whole bunch of pictures. There was dancing in the park following, much like dancing in Cheeseman park in Denver with a small-scale marble dome, and plenty of passerby's stopping to watch. Sean and I started to make our way back to the apt for a nap, but only made it in time for about 30-min of shut-eye before heading off to Christine's dance studio.

I don't know how she did it, but she got an 18-piece big band into that space complete with a 4-harmony woman's singing group that specialized in Big Band Era music into a 20x40 foot room. Needless to say, they didn't need to be miked. After very little sleep the night before, and a very unsatisfying non-nap that afternoon, the fast-paced music more than I could handle. But I had some nice dances, met some nice people again, and ended up falling asleep during the break between Sean's blues sets.

Monday was Recuperation Day. The crappy feeling in my throat from the night before was gone, and the apartment was empty as both Christine and Andrew had left for the Good-Bye Brunch at a café downtown. We made our way around eventually, and enjoyed some good eats and conversation. And just so no one else makes the same “mistake” I did, the weisswurst that is traditionally served at Oktoberfest is veal... iron-deficient baby-cow. My heart sank when I found out (that is one of the lines I made as a meat-eater). After good-byes, we went for a walk around the city. We were told that the view from the top of St. Peter's church was the one to see, so we made our way up the stairs and took advantage of the stellar view for some nice pics of the Rathaus and downtown. We even found an American-style coffee house (for lack of a better description), and enjoyed our first relatively decent coffee drinks since getting our passports stamped.

As we wound our way back to the east side of town, we found what must be the big outdoor market in Munich. There were about 8 butcher shops in a row, lots of fresh produce, a honey specialty shop, and plenty of biergartens. We made is our last meal... one more huge beer for the road, and a variety plate of sausages NOT containing weisswurst ;)

Today, the plan is to get to Vienna via Salzburg for lunch, and hopefully find the house-party we were invited to. After that, our hope is to get out to Mistelbach to revisit all of Sean's old friends, and enjoy some down time. It's amazing... we've been on vacation now for almost 2 weeks, but with the hiking and dance weekend, I'm totally exhausted. It's hard being me... really ;)

Soccer Fans & Why I Need 1st Class

It's official. I am a certified travel snob. Probably not in the ways most people think. I don't require much in terms of clothes or shoes... I can survive fine with the 2 pairs of jeans I brought on this trip, and wear the same scarf everyday. And as long as the food we have on hand is healthy and tasty, I only require the occasional foodie-caliber dinner. And I could never justify in my current state of non-employment an upscale hotel. What I CANNOT tolerate anymore is drunken-craziness. I have no interest in it. And I'm heading to Munich for Oktoberfest... what the H-E-double-hockey-sticks was I thinking of? The whole culture of this “festival” is drink, drink, drink to life!! A non-stop frat party featuring the best-of-the-best drunks from all over the world!!

I got my first taste of things to come on the train from Wernigerode to Hanover on the first leg of our trip down to Munich. There were probably 30-40 20-somethings piled into the first 2 cars wearing the same T-shirt, blonde wigs, fanny packs, and spilt beer or body fluids of some kind staining at least 1 article of clothing yelling and singing in support of their soccer team. They even managed to have their own police escort... cops in riot gear were stationed at each door, and were immediately put to work once they arrived at the Hanover train station (the opposing team). And guess where we got to sit... in the bench-seats across from the bathroom. These guys had broken the seal long before we got on the train. For 2 hours, there was a steady stream of drunks stumbling in and out of the WC, sometimes 2 or 3 at a time. And why, you might ask, did these young gentlemen need this kind of buddy system to use the can? Because as 1 used the toilet, the others could piss in the sink. Awesome.

In contrast, I am currently seated in the 1^st class car on the super-fast ICE express train at a small table typing on my laptop in peace and serenity. No shouting, no spilt beer. Support staff in pressed uniforms walk by... newspaper, coffee, beer or wine?? Why yes, thank you. Only 4 stops on this 3 hour ride? Perfect. I could easily give up flying if trains in the states had digs like this. We're currently traveling at 250 km/hr through a hilly and lush countryside, towns and villages dotting the landscape. If I'd like, I could get up, walk around, head down to the café for a nice lunch, or hide away in one of the private rooms. This is a magical land where children are quiet, the seats rest at angles that are conducive to sleep, and I can keep my over-sized luggage nearby. We even left our stuff unattended and undisturbed... like I said, Magical.Maybe this doesn't make me a travel snob, just more of a foodie (or maybe just a reasonable human being). Sean and I are admitted beverage snobs... we drink for taste, and only rarely for effect. The few times I've gotten drunk in the last few years, I've always regretted the headaches, dry mouth, and unsettled stomach the next day. Or maybe I've just been stepped on, spilt on, and pounded into enough times in my life at bars and clubs that my resulting tolerance is very narrow. I'm not really worried about Oktoberfest. I'll be there with my manly husband and some good friends who will help to keep the crowds at bay. This IS a chance of a lifetime, and I'll be sure to drink it up ;) (in 1 liter increments). Prost!!

Sean's Rant about the devastating effect of inconvenience on his sense of fair play

Boy, am I thoroughly Amerikan now. The Germans take Sunday off, because it's Sunday, then a bunch of them take Monday off, because it's tainted by Sunday? Or maybe because no one wants to buy anything on Monday after a debauchery soaked weekend? I don't think so. It shouldn't surprise me that they stretch their weekend into 2 and a half days, but it does. And way more of the restaurants than I remember are taking the afternoon off, like the German siesta (ruhestuden?). News flash, that's not the reason Spain won the WM, kids.

Chris has been being very nice with her explanations and observations, but clearly I need to do just a bit of ranting.

1. see above

2. see above

3. if you don't live here, where do you wash your clothes? Sure, Hasselfelde is a small town, so just wait until you get to a big city, like, say, Schierke; they'll def have somewhere for you to do your laundry. But we don't live there either?! Do we have to pay an extra 20 Euro for the privilege of paying more to wash our cloths? The hausfrau today looked honestly shocked that I'd ask her to use her washing machine. Like it'll blow her cost benefit ratio to shit. Like she couldn't comprehend that I might be willing to pay her even 5 Euro for the cost of water and electricity it would take to run one load of laundry. What do things cost here anyway? The groceries aren't THAT expensive. The trains are, but they allow things like the Eurail pass. Sheesh

4. It's Monday. I have a sore throat. It's 2 pm, and I'm out of luck. There is no pharmacy open.

5. Screw Dan Brown. His little Deception Point novel kept me up until 4 A.M. Sure, part of it was being afraid of going to sleep to wake up again minutes laster coughing, but the other part of Dan Brown and his crack-writing. 540 pages in 5ish hours. Word to the wise; don't start Dan Brown (or John Grisham) after 9 P.M. If you have anything else to do the next day. Me, all I had going was walking 7ish miles. But you might have a job to do, or children to feed. Or anger to manage, and that kind of sleep just won't keep the wolves at bay.

So, in conclusion, I love Germany. Thank God for St. Döner auf Kebap.

The Lactose Conspiracy

My body is so confusing. In my early 20's, I had finally grown into the lactose intolerance my father had bestowed upon me. Since that time, I have had quasi-violent reactions to cheese, milk, and my ultimate nemesis, ice cream. Consumption of these edibles led to severe stomach discomfort, distention, the most foul-smelling gas, and just general grief for myself and those around me. Lactaid, nut and soy milks, and coconut milk icecream had been my only friends. And yes, they don't taste like milk (which almost every dairy-phile I've met has reminded me of), but they grow on you to the point of actually LIKING them. Sure, I'd cheat now and again. The soothing coolness of sour cream on my tacos, the occasional thin layer of cream cheese on my bagel, all could be tolerated with minor consequences. But when the waitress forgot that there was a ½ cup of cream in my cup of soup, then all kinds of hell would be unleashed. Until Germany...

Don't ask me how this happened. As a matter of necessity and custom, I have been sneaking cheese into my meals all week. I think most of the basic German diet hasn't changed since the 1500's... bread, meat, and cheese are present at almost every meal. The small towns that were our pitstops along the hiking path rarely had a pharmacy, and if it did, it certainly didn't have enzymes for sale. But oddly enough, I had NO side-effects. None. And given, usually most of my attention was keenly focused on the blisters on my feet and the weight on my shoulders, but lactose intolerance, at its fullest “expression”, can hardly be ignored. Each day, I continued to test my lac-tolerance... cream in my coffee, a little whip cream on my sweetie dessert, and then my nemesis. I had an ice cream cone. Don't get me wrong, it's not as though I went out and inhaled the biggest sundae I could find. Just a baby cone, less than a Euro, a single micro scoop. And I survived!!! No discomfort, no distension, none of the usual suspects. Maybe it's the autumn air, or returning to the country from which most of my family genetics stems. Or maybe there's something in the beer. In any case, it's a mystery I'm fine with never solving.

Hiking the Harz

Hey Everybody-
So we've been without internet for a week now days now... certainly not the end of the world, but it makes it hard to post updates. A lot has changed, so let's recap...We were done with Frankfurt. Friday, Sean and I went for aHUGE walk all over the city, maybe 4-5 hours including the stop for coffee. It was great... the overcast skies made for great color for the camera, and I think that Sean and I grabbed some great shots in Frankfurt's more industrial neighborhood. Got back tothe hostel, dressed, and headed out to see some live music at this little beach-themed bar Sean had seen earlier that day. If you're the kind of person who really digs on your wedding singer's greatest hits, this would have been the night for you. Two Turkish guys with an electronic drum kit, keyboard, and guitar sing such fab hits as“Celebration” and “Dancing Queen.” However, if this is NOT your musical preference, you may look like this -->

PS- I'm in love with the photo apps on my phone. But that's a whole other blog posting...

So whatever, headed back... got some icecream, listened to the 20-somethings vomit in the bathroom down the hall, and we were done with Frankfurt. ;) Next stop? Thale.

Thale is a town in the Harz Mountains in centralish Germa

ny. The train ride was about 5.5 hours long with 2 changes and almost no

wait time at the transitions (Score!) REALLY beautiful, scenic, and oh-so-very German. Open tracks of green with parks, stone churches, and sculpture... they have a small theme park for kids with ropes courses, games, and things to climb all over. A gondola is there to take you to the top of the ridge for a nice view of the valley below, and the ski lift hauled downhill mtn bikers off to do their own brand of insanity. Walking paths follow the river where fly fisherman were working the water on one side, and stone walls covered in vibrant moses and tufts of grass on the other. SOOO looks like the Pac NW. So with all this beauty and brilliance around us, what could go wrong?

Lots. Well, 2 things, but 2 MAJOR things. We really hadn't made plans for the trip in terms of booking rooms or finding the hiking path that we were planning on trekking. But with 14 hostels in town, we were sure that we'd find something fairly easy. DO NOT MAKE THIS MISTAKE!!! Apparently, German's have their own holidays and plans that they dont' share with the rest of the world. Thale is a VERY popular destination for families around this time of year, so after EIGHT Different Hostels over a 3-hour walk without a single room, we were really getting desperate.But we were OK... Sean called the 2nd hostel we approached to double check, and they ended up having a room for us. Why the woman at the front desk didn't know is something we may never know, but she has earned a spot on our Black List. >:/ Whatever... we each had a huge beer that only cost us 3

Euro total, got a free shot of Uzo earlier in the day, and thus we were happy.

Next day, goal was to find the hiking route from Thale to Der Broken, the tallest mtn in central Germany at a whopping 1141m (yes, I'm being cheeky). There is a path that runs through the national park here called the Harzer Hexen-Stieg. Hexen means witches, and the theme is everywhere in Thale and along the walk (think Brother's Grimm, Hanzel & Gretel, THAT area of Germany). It's like some crazy crafter's dream... I don't think anyone here has less than 10 little flying witches around their home or in restaurants. Anywho, Sean has taken to calling it the Witchy Walk. What's nice is that there are smaller towns close together along path, so we've just been staying in little hostels/BnB rather than camping. The scenery is breath-taking. The path runs along the Bode River which cuts through the valley (the info station in town said this region is the deepest rocky valley in Germany, or something to that effect). The path is pretty rocky with the first couple miles or so at a pretty steady climb up. Once you reach Tresenburg, it levels off to a nice forest walk. We stayed the first night in Altenbrak at the Bergfried, a nice little hostel-type establishment. It looks like this -->
Hunting and gardening appear to be the main past times here, and the restaurant we dined in was a virtual trophy room. An 15-point (that's 15 total on both sides) set of antlers held a prominent position on the wall next to various stuffed cohorts and I think a set of horns from some kind of game sheep. Sean had a bit of wild boar that the owner had recently shot, and I had some trout in the spirit of all the river fishing that we witnessed. The whole meal was a 2.5 hour experience... I think the waitress kept forgetting about us even though we were at least 20 years younger than every other patron and sitting smack dab in the middle of the room. They're forgiven... it was super tasty.

Nice German breakfast in the morning... bread, various types of meats, cheeses, soft boiled eggs, coffee, and nice conversation with the owners with Sean translating along the way. At one point, I just had something stuck in my throat resulting in a pathetic little cough, and the host jumped at the chance to give us booze first thing in the morning. He laid out a teeny little beer mug and filled it with some kind of herbed liquor. He called it “hiking gas”... all the benefits of cough medicine and none of the crappy aftertaste. He was right... it was tasty. None of that Wild Turkey afterburn ;) The trail between Altenbrak and Hasselfelde was about 10-12km depending on which sign posts you read (there could be a 1-2km difference even reading signs across the trail from one another). All in all though, we hiked for about 4 hours with lots of pauses for photo ops, snacking, and just to enjoy the scenery.


Trail today was more akin to truck routes than single-track, and aside from the senior hiking group we passed on the way out of town, we didn't see anyone. The Hexen-Stieg at this point has combined itself with another route called the Köhlerweg which, we're guessing, follows some kind of coal route. There were several signs referring to wood:coal ratios (it takes 12-15 square meter of wood to equal 1 ton of coal). There is clearly a lot of lumbering out here with the occasional hillside barren of trees, but only in small amounts. For the past few days, we had also noticed several tunnels burrowing into the rockface along the trail with cast iron doors blocking them; signs more or less indicated that they were old copper mines. Makes for good pictures at any rate.

Oh, and to all the backyard gardeners back in the states, you got Nothin' on these folks. The towns here are WAY too cute with old German homes lining the streets and gorgeous mixed vegetable and flower gardens nestled inbetween. It seems like everyone gardens out here, which might be why their grocery stores are so small. We've noticed this... there don't appear to be any big-chain anythings out here. Most shops look like they're locally owned and operated, and there really aren't any hotel chains. Aside from the hostels in Frankfurt and Thale (which was the only monstrosity like it in town), most of the places we've seen with rooms for rent are associated with someone's home. So lesson learned is, “Zimmer Frei” = big fluffy down pillow, completely mismatched room furnishings, and soft boiled eggs in the morning.

SIDE NOTE: By far the most unique piece of home-remodeling-type material that we saw were styrofoam blocks that took the place of drywall in the home we stayed at in Hasselfelde. No kidding, styrofoam. With decorative carvings that, I think, were supposed to make them like fancy wall tiles. A close second to that was the faux wood-finish on the door into our room that was actually just tape. The only reason we knew was it had started to ruffle and twist around the door handle after years of use.

The day was pretty useless in all other regards. Sean wasn't feeling good, nothing was really open between the hours of 2 and 5 in the afternoon, and most of the cafés closed on Monday. We had just hiked 4 hours with around 40-50# of gear on our backs, so we weren't particularly eager to go for a walk again, and we weren't ready for Döner Kebap dinner yet. All we could do was read in the park before heading to the local Asian restaurant for Vietnamese coffee treat... and another little free shot of something! Germany... you and your little mystery shots. ;)

Tuesday morning was cold... cold and wet. So in summary, Tuesday=Rain, and that's all you have to know. What we thought was going to be a 16-20km hike ended up only being about 10-12km (those funky signs again), but still long enough to wreck havoc on my shoulders and hips where the pack hits. However, we also decided that weaker hikers than ourselves had endured much worse weather with a good attitude, so we spent the hike daydreaming outloud :D

(Dear Gregory Backpacks... I just want you to know that despite some sarcasm and a few little jabs, we have been VERY happy with your products thus far and hope to use them many more times in the future. I'm just boney. Take no offense. Thanks a ton!! - C&S)

We had considered pushing on further in the day, but with Sean's cold, my foot, the wet weather, and my lack of cushiony parts, we decided to get a room at the local Pension instead here in Königshütte. Each town appears to present the same offerings...
1) No internet.
2) No one under the age of 65 (to the mature ladies in my life, this is not a put-down, it's just weird).
3) No one takes CC or American Debit cards
4) No good coffee (today's was the best so far, but still not quite to standards)
5) No place to wash our clothes.
Grrr. Sink washing your dirty laundry isn't as much fun as watching it tumble around and around at the laundomat. Unfortunately, we have to hike another 10-12km for that little treat... maybe.

Schierke... also known as “the big town”, which I suppose in comparison to our previous stops, it certainly has a few things the others did not. We had our first brush with the internet, but it was on a locked network :( It has people of all ages, including children!! It seems like every house on the main drag offers some kind of housing but with very sneaky “cleaning” surcharges. We've decided to stay in the house of the woman who owns “the smallest cafe in the Harz region” (it's called Das Kleine Cafe, or the Little Cafe). Her and her husband own a small villa that they fixed up themselves called Villa Regina, and they did an amazing job. For 20 Euro/night/person, we enjoyed a small bedroom with a teeny kitchen and adjacent living room space.

What Frau Hiller shared with us was because East Germany didn't have as much development between the end of the 2nd World War and the end of the Cold War, there are many more historic homes and buildings compared to West Germany in general. What's been happening is that developers from old West Germany are buying up the large old homes and hotels, and letting them fall apart so that they can be torn down and avoid the taxes associated with owning a historic property. And then they build ugly houses in their place. Zilly Germans ;)

There seems to be a recurrent theme in German interior decorating... lots and lots and lots of chachkees... collectibles... very small things masking themselves as decorations. And the challenge is to get as many of these small, useless objects on your walls or shelves as possible. Good examples would be collector plates, figurines, coffee mugs, or stuffed animals (the kind taxidermists make). Can you believe the last pension we stayed at stuffed Bambi?!? Two of them?!?! But Schierke is definitely a tourist town... this is where the train to the top of Der Brocken starts. We were going to hike to the Brocken without the packs, and then crash in Shierke again for a night, but have decided to press forward. The plan was to head to Torfhaus, but our hostess recommended Wernigerode (titled, the most colorful town in the Harz region).

The climb to the Brocken with the packs was super silly, and just masochistic. I was in bad form with the blisters on my foot, and sore shoulders. But we made it, and top was just astounding. The landscape was nothing... bare ground with huge towers, a hotel, train station, and visitor's center. The view was the money... you could see to the valley below for miles and miles (or as the locals say, kilometers und kilometers). It also holds some significance for The Wall, but I couldn't read anything so... poop. There is a coal-burning train that can take tourists up and down the mountain, and luckily they had one that could take us directly to Wernigerode if we waited a couple hours. Glühwein kept us nicely occupied (look it up).

Wernigerode certainly kept up with its name. It's probably what you would imagine if you thought “charming German town” (above is the view from our apt window). Sounds like it's been around since at least 1500s, and is built around a gorgeous old courthouse, or as they call it, Rathaus... no joke. It's a bank now, and includes the visitor's center. And just FYI, visitor's centers out here are super amazing and helpful. In every circumstance, they assisted us with getting lodgings in town (including researching rates and calling to make reservations), and helped us get oriented.. and it's FREE!!. We ended up with a small, 2-bedroom apt for 30 Euro/night... Amazing. We gave ourselves a rest day so Sean could focus on getting over his cold, and to let the wounds on my foot heal up some. In general, this last day and a half has been about amazing food, great beer, and picking up a few things we learned were missing from our travel arsenal. Tomorrow we leave for Munich and Oktoberfest.

So despite blisters, muddy trails, aching muscles, and stinky laundry, these last few days have been exceptional. Getting out of the city was the right idea, and despite our lack of planning, everything came together nicely. I think if we were to do it again, we'd camp the route, and not bring all the silly electronics along. This whole trip could have easily been done in 3 days with lighter packs. But it was nice to see the German countryside, and get a taste of a more rural lifestyle. No internet, no computers (not even for businesses), just gardening and hunting, baking at home, and tasteless coffee ;)