Tag: German

TSOJ: Bike Tour Of Munich, Free Shower Included

By South of the Strait on August 21, 2013 • ( 9 Comments )

Munich, my final stop on The Summer of Jon, and the final bike tour of my glorious summer. By now I had terrifying bike tours (Prague), beautifully weird bike tours (Potsdam), bike tours where the guide was trying to lose the group (Vienna), and solo bike tours where I nearly rode into another country (Copenhagen), so when I arrived beneath the Old Town Hall near Marienplatz I was ready for whatever the day would bring. I was greeted by two guides: James and Busty. (I assume that is how Busty spells his name, I did not ask.) Before we left the greeting area I learned three facts: 1.The city name Munich (Munchen) literally means “by the monks.” 2. Barrel-makers were responsible for saving the city during the plague by doing a dance that is now celebrated every seven years. 3. Busty was born in Munich and then moved to New Zealand where he grew up.

All three of these facts interested me. The name of the city was mildly interesting, the barrel-maker dance was pretty cool, but Busty’s family history became a mystery that I resolved to unfold during the bike tour. To start with there are only 3 million Kiwis living in New Zealand, but everywhere I travel I run into Kiwis, so either no one is in New Zealand during the winter (summer in the Northern Hemisphere) or there are 30 million Kiwis and 27 million of them are traveling at any given moment.

Busty (green shirt), James (blue shirt), and Juliet (shiny right breast).

We walked to the bike store, selected our bikes, Busty asked for someone to ride in the back, I volunteered because I was the only solo traveler on the tour and had “Ass Man” experience, and then Busty gave us a frightening introduction to riding bikes in Munich. The introduction boiled down to this, “Getting hit by a moving car is okay because the driver will be held responsible. You may die, but death is better than hitting a parked car. Hitting a parked car will be your fault and you will be held financially responsible.” Munich is home to BMW and everyone in Munich owns a black or silver car that costs 100,000,000 Euros. Busty said that a young lady scratched a parked car with her bike last week and ended up with a 12,000 Euro bill, this bit of information did scare me a little.

Once we took off on the tour my fears subsided because we traveled on bike paths most of the time and there were a few people on the tour that could only ride their bikes at a maximum speed of three mph.

Livin' the vida loca, taking pictures while riding is always against the rules, but when you are going at electric-scooter speed and there are no cars around...

Livin’ the vida loca, taking pictures while riding is always against the rules, but when you are going at electric-scooter speed and there are no million dollar cars around…

We spent a good chunk of the beginning part of the tour in the city core. The odd thing about Munich is that it looks really old, but much of the city’s old town was rebuilt after it was destroyed in WWII. Some German cities cleared the rubble and built shiny new cities (Frankfurt) and other cities cleared the rubble and rebuilt new versions of the old city. Munich went old school and Busty explained that much of that decision was based on how the people of Munich see themselves; the people of Munich consider themselves Bavarians more than Germans and they wanted to preserve their Bavarian heritage. This whole Bavarian thing is great for Munich, but it isn’t the most popular attitude to have in the rest of Germany. I equate it to how Americans feel about Texans. (That’s right, I’m messin’ with Texas.)

As we traveled around and Busty filled in the history of the city, I began to get pretty confused about who ruled what and when. This crash-course in European history started in Oslo for me and I was beginning to get everybody mixed up. Were the Bavarian rulers the same ones that ruled Austria? What about the dudes in Potsdam? Who was ruling Czechoslovakia? Eventually Busty got to a part of history that is easier to understand, or harder to understand depending on your perspective: Hitler.

I want to be careful not to sound to flippant here, but Hitler is a historical figure who cannot be confused with any other leader and therefore makes European history since WWII easier to understand. (If you read that last sentence and your mind said, “What about Barack Obama?” I want you to take a deep breath, turn off Fox News, remove the “Don’t Tread on Me” flag from your flag pole, find your happy place, and read a book.)

It is very difficult to understand how Hitler was able to rise to power. For most Americans this is the great mystery of German history. I am being sincere when I say that my little bike tour of Munich helped me finally put the final puzzle pieces together in my mind and understand Hitler’s rise to power.

Puzzle Piece #1: Standing in the Jewish Quarter in Prague, “The Jews were not allowed to live outside this area, and could not be buried in the other cemeteries. The city leaders would not give the Jews more land, so they had to bury people on top of each other. They always put 11 inches of soil between the bodies, but that is why the cemetery ground rises so high above the rest of the street.”

Prague’s Jewish Cemetery

Puzzle Piece #2: Next to the Jewish Memorial in Vienna, “Christians were not allowed to loan money, but the Jewish faith allowed money lending. When the city needed money they would invite the Jews to come live in the city, but as soon as they didn’t need money lending any longer, they kicked the Jews out.”

Vienna’s Jewish Memorial.

Puzzle Piece #3: Standing next to the Plague column in Prague, “Rumors were spread that the Jews had poisoned the wells and that is why the plague was spreading.”

Puzzle Piece #4 and # 5 : Standing in Odeonsplatz in Munich, “Here is where Hitler was almost killed in 1923 during the Beer Hall Riots. He was thrown to the ground, and his body-guard jumped on top of him to protect him. The body-guard was shot four times. 16 Nazis were killed and four police officers died.”

“Hitler ran away, but was eventually captured and went to trial. The German government should have executed him for treason but they didn’t and they allowed him to defend himself at this trial which gave him the opportunity to defend his actions and spread his anti-Semitic message.”

Final Puzzle Piece: The alleyway behind Odeonsplatz: “Hitler had a memorial built of the Beer Hall Riots and everyone who walked by had to do a Nazi salute. People started to walk through this alley to avoid the memorial. Hitler put some of his SS men back here to take names of people who wouldn’t give the salute. Once he controlled the police, he could jail all of his opposition.”

Alleyway behind Odeonplatz.

Hitler’s rise to power wasn’t a popular movement of unavoidable events, but a series of near-misses combined with a historical hatred of the Jewish people. When Germany’s economy crashed and inflation exploded overnight (primarily because Germany was printing money to pay of WWI reparations ) Hitler was there to blame the Jews who had a history of money-lending. He was there to capitalize on the fears of the past, and to project a future where Germany would be the center of the world. He did not win a popular vote, he formed a coalition government. He consolidated his power by taking over the police force and eventually stifled all of his opposition. All of it made sense to me, not the result, but the actions leading into WWII. It is sad to understand that the human desire to survive often leads to the destruction of other humans.

After our Odeonplatz stop, a few of the wimps (the family from Scotland) in our group were hungry and wanted something to eat. It was 11 o’clock and our next stop was the third largest beer garden in the world, so I passed on the food option (Busty said we would be stopping at the largest beer garden in the world soon) and grabbed a liter of beer. Our group sat around a large table and sipped our beer in the shade.

Beer Garden stop #1.

After our refreshing break we hopped back on the bikes and headed out toward Munich’s Olympic Park. For anyone old enough to remember the 1972 Olympics the park is a destination filled with memories: The tragic deaths of the 11 Israeli Olympic team members still holds the park in its grip, but the ’72 Olympics also brought the world Olga Korbut, Mark Spitz, and a controversial Russian victory (cheaters never prosper) over the US in basketball.

The Olympic Park

The park is still used today (the X-games had just left town) but the grounds were almost empty as we rode through. I don’t know if I believe in ghosts and supernatural phenomenon but there was an odd aura surrounding the entire park. It could have been the emptiness of the place, or it might just have been the fact that clouds were now gathering in the sky.

It had been 30 years since the games were held in Munich, a city that had been destroyed 30 years earlier in WWII, and in those 60 years Germany had been conquered, divided, and reunited. The great arcs of history are sometimes pretty short arcs and he ability of humans to destroy in rebuild is incredible. It should frighten us and give us hope at the same time. The great shame of these monstrous sporting stadiums and buildings is that the host countries have still not figured out how to use the Olympic facilities on a daily basis after the games are over.

Built for 1972, the design still appears modern today.

Mark Spitz broke some records in this water. Well, I hope they changed the water by now.

Mark Spitz broke some records in this water…well, I’m sure they have added new water by now.

The one building that was still open to the public was the pool. For five Euros you can slip into the same pool that Mark Spitz swam in to win his collection of gold medals.

The building I wish I could have stood in is where they held the basketball tournament and the referees stole the gold medal from the US players. (This event drove me to win the gold medal back numerous times on my driveway basketball court. History may have awarded the Soviets the gold, but my imagination awarded me the gold many times.) The US team refused to accept the silver medals and I think the medals are still in bank vault waiting for Doug Collins to pick them up. The big shots at the Olympic Committee probably break the medals out to wear them at cocktail parties.

Near the Olympic Park is BMW World. I am not a car guy,this should be obvious because I write a blog, but even I got a little weak in the knees looking at all of the shiny cars.

BMW world.

I wonder if they take Icelandic Kroner s.

BMW world is one of those places where someone like me realizes that there are people in the world who are far, far, far wealthier than I am, and I am not just talking about people who live in Norway. I don’t think I will ever own one of these cars, but I decided that sitting in a couple of them wouldn’t hurt anyone. Well, it hurt someone, because as soon as I stepped out of the cars some guy would come along and wipe the car down like I was carrying the Ebola virus.

I wandered upstairs and saw this:

A test drive track on the second floor of BMW world.

This test track on the second floor is either the coolest thing I have ever seen, or it is the saddest waste of money I have ever seen. Why is it on the second floor? Because if it was on the first floor it would be boring and regular, put it on the second floor and suddenly the building becomes a hide-out for a James Bond villain. I don’t know what you have to buy to drive your car on the track, but sometimes you don’t even have to ask a question to know that answer is, “Don’t worry, Sir, you cannot afford it.”

After BMW World most of us, even the non-wimps, were getting a little hungry. Lucky for us the next stop was the world’s largest beer garden. We rode to the English Garden and located the Beer Garden. We found a table under the Chinese Tower and began munching on our food and sipping our beer. There was an ompa band playing and it felt very festive. Ten minutes later the festivities stopped and everyone was running for shelter as a “summer shower” began dumping on the English Garden. Since we were beneath the tower, we were not getting wet, but our bike tour was now looking a bit less fun. I didn’t really mind getting wet, maybe it was because I had two liters of beer, or maybe it was the fact that is was warm and being wet wasn’t a huge problem.

Busty said the rain would probably stop soon, so we waited and then when the rain abated, we grabbed our bikes and rode over to see the park surfers. On the way to the river it began pouring again. It was a Noah sized shower. I had a rain parka in my bag, but by the time I considered getting the parka, I was completely soaked and didn’t care.

A little rain never hurt anyone.

The rest of our bike group was not quite as excited about riding the rest of the way through the rain and by the time we reached the surfers people were complaining. I announced that I was willing to sell my parka to the highest bidder, but had no takers. The rain did not appear to want to stop and Busty gave us the option of heading back a little early, or seeing one more thing that would extend our trip by 45 minutes. Of course we voted to head back early.

Surfing in the English Gardens.

We rode through some pretty heavy rain and eventually ended up back at the office. Busty thanked us all for being good sports and I was awarded with this gem of a gift.

If you look at this picture in the mirror there is a secret message.

TSOJ: Munich – What to do? Let’s get lost. (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)
TSOJ: Vienna Has Excellent Drinking Water, or Does It? (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)

TSOJ: Munich–What to do? Let’s get lost.

By South of the Strait on August 17, 2013 • ( 5 Comments )

Before arriving in Munich, I took an informal poll of people sitting in my train seat. I asked myself, “What should I see in Munich?” This was a difficult question to answer because I had done very little research on where to go and what to do once I arrived. This phenomenon occurred because I assumed I would have plenty of time to plan along the way. Well, I probably did have time, but most of the time I wasn’t thinking about what to do in Munich, I was thinking about what I was going to do in the moment and since Munich was the final stop on TSOJ I figured I had plenty of time. So as I traveled from Vienna to Munich, I began to think about what I should see. What I knew about Munich was that it is where Octoberfest takes place each year, it was also where the 1972 Munich Olympics took place, and I knew there was a big park where the world’s largest beer garden is located. Since it was not October (or even September, which is when Octoberfest really happens) or 1972, I had very little to plan. I did have a bike tour scheduled for my second day in Munich and since it was the “Deluxe tour” I decided that if there was something special to see in Munich I would ride by on my bike at some point. I then spent the next four hours planning how to get from the train station to my hotel…I still got lost.

Eventually I ended up at Hotel Bristol (Motto: We are not friendly, but your room is clean) and I set off to see the city center. The city center was just across a big convergence of streets and about three blocks away from my hotel. I did not want to cross the busy streets and knew I could use the underground entrance and exit to avoid them, so I went down the stairs, walked through the underground passage, and came up on the other side. Viola, all of my travel experience paid off and I was off to the downtown. I will now disclose a few embarrassing details: I somehow got turned around in the underground area. I know, it sounds impossible, but I did it. I was heading east, but my brain told me I was traveling north. I walked within touching distance of the downtown area a couple of times before turning in the wrong direction. I only discovered how lost I was when I came upon a river and could no longer just keep walking.

I took out my map and tried to figure out where I was. There is only one big river in Munich, the Isar, and according to my brain there was no possible way I could have walked all the way there, so I was not just regular lost, I was big-time lost. I followed the river for a little while and enjoyed the walk. Lots of people were swimming in the river, riding bikes along the river, and enjoying the sunshine, so I got comfortable being lost and just strolled until I saw a sign for the Deutsches Museum. According to my brain, the Deutsches Museum was not anywhere close to my location, but as it turned out reality won again.

This the the actual route I took to the center of town.

This the actual route I took to the center of town.

Now that I knew where I was it was much easier to use my map. I reoriented myself and eventually found my way to Marienplatz. Using maps is always easier when you know where you are. (Yes, you can quote me on the previous statement.)

Marienplatz is Munich’s city center.

Since I was now exhausted and hungry I decided to see if there was a place to eat somewhere close. Rule number one learned from TSOJ: Don’t eat anyplace near a major tourist site. Rule number two, avoid blue umbrellas. Rule number three, if you are in Munich find a beer garden. Rule number four, if you are near a tourist site, beer gardens are okay.

Right near Marienplatz is a place called Viktualienmarkt. Viktualienmarkt is a little like Pike’s Street Market in Seattle and a beer garden. In other words, food heaven for a weary traveler.

Viktualenmarkt.

Viktualienmarkt’s beer garden under the shady trees.

If you have never been to a German beer garden here is a quick guide:

1. Go to the food line.

2. Order the most stereotypical German food you can imagine. In my case it is always brat, kraut, and potato salad.

3. Pay for your food with cash. CASH ONLY! Don’t slow the line down or you will get a lecture in German and that will feel like being yelled at.

4. Go to the beer line.

5. Grab the largest beer you can find, or if you want a lemon beer (radler) ask for it.

6. Pay for your beer.

7. Find a place to sit down. It is communal seating, so you just need to find an open location and then ask anyone nearby if it is open. Seats closest to the food and beer are usually reserved for people who want table service from a waiter/waitress. You can tell the difference between service seating and regular seating by the type of seat. Benches= no service.

8. Sit down and eat.

9. Be friendly and talk to your neighbors after informing them that you are an American and only speak one language.

10. Get another beer.

I ended up sitting next to a fountain with an older German gentleman. We spent most of the time talking about his daughter who was trying to get a Visa to study in San Francisco. He also gave me a great overview of what to see in his city saving me hours of research and effort.

After my dinner, I took the underground train back to my hotel so that I would not spend another two hours wandering Munich and mapped out how I would spend the final few days of TSOJ.

TSOJ: Final Thoughts on Berlin (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)
TSOJ: Vienna’s Belvedere (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)
TSOJ: Final Thoughts on Vienna (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)
TSOJ: A Trinity of Vienna’s Cathedrals, and Why is Siegfried’s sword so small? (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)
TSOJ: A Vienna Bike Tour with The Terminator (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)
TSOJ: Vienna Has Excellent Drinking Water, or Does It? (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)

TSOJ: A Vienna Bike Tour with The Terminator

By South of the Strait on August 3, 2013 • ( 8 Comments )

Before most bike tours start there is a tiny tutorial about how to use the bikes, the bike rules in the city, and how to avoid getting killed on the bike tour, but not with Walter (pronounced Valter for those of you who speak English properly.) Walter simply asked if we all had bikes, looked to see that we all had bikes, and then he began riding away from us assuming that we would follow. His assumption was half correct. About half of us followed, and the other half of the group had some difficulties turning around, hopping on their bikes, and beginning riding. It wasn’t long before a city block separated the two groups and I was a little concerned for the trailing pack, my job as “Ass Man” made me keenly aware of the difficulties of being in a trailing group. Sometimes traffic lights delay progress, sometimes it is a slow rider, and sometimes it is just fate, but usually the group leader is a little concerned about splitting the group and will slow down and wait, but not Walter/Valter, I never saw him turn around to check on the progress of the pack he just kept rolling forward like he had to be home for cable installation between 5:00 and 5:05.

Walter rode for another block or two and then stopped. He turned around, saw that half of the group was still missing, shook his head, wondered aloud why the people in the back were so far behind, and began talking about the opera house without waiting for the slow pokes. There were two distinctive attributes about Walter that I instantly loved: 1. He made fun of everything not Austrian. 2. He sounded exactly like Arnold Schwarzenegger when he talked. “I am going to use a bad word now for you Americans, Socialism. That is vhy ve have the best drinking vater, the most livable city in the vorld, and if I have to go to the hospital I don’t pay anything.” Walter did not just give America a bad time, Germany, France, England, and Russia would all get tossed under the bike tour’s wheels at some point along the way, but Walter did it with good humor and the type of boasting usually reserved for American Olympic teams.

Athena agrees that Vienna is a great looking city.

When we rode by a large statue of Goethe I asked why we hadn’t stopped (mostly this question was poised so that I could show off that I knew how to pronounce Goethe’s name.) Walter did not skip a pedal push, “He’s German, nobody cares about him.”

The tour followed the ring circling Vienna’s old downtown area and before too long I realized that Vienna has the most beautiful buildings in the world. Each city has its own beauty (I am excluding Bakersfield from this observation) and spending time anywhere a visitor can find things to like about a city, but most cities are limited in what they can offer a visitor who is there for a short period of time.

My requirements for a perfect city to visit: 1. Great, easy to understand public transportation, 2. A city plan/map that is easy to understand, 3. Great museums, 4. Beautiful buildings, 5. Green spaces, 6. Temperate climate, 7. History, 8. Walkability, 9. Food, 10. Je ne sais quoi. On a 0-5 scale most great cities will score in the high 30s and low 40s using my scientific scale. Take Paris for example: Transportation: 5, City Plan: 5, Great Museums: 5, Beautiful Buildings: 5, Green Spaces: 5, Temperate Climate: 4, History: 5, Walkability: 5, Food: 5, Je ne sais quoi: 5, for a grand total of 49. That is a pretty good score. London might end up with a 42 (city plan is terrible, and London is not really a walkable city unless you want black lung.) Bakersfield: 5 (great Mexican food, everything else is a zero.)

Anyway, as we rode around Vienna, I began to believe that Vienna might be a 50, and I am sure Walter would have agreed. Since Vienna was the center of the Hapsburg Dynasty it still has the structure of a world leader, but the importance of Austria as a global power has diminished and I have the feeling that this has allowed Vienna to relax and focus their monetary assets internally as opposed to trying to run an empire.

That is one big, two-headed Eagle.

Green spaces in Vienna are abundant. Want to rent a rosebush in the royal garden? You can.

There is a large amusement park near the Danube river. I saw this thing in a James Bond movie once.

The food tent outside the Rathaus.

The center of European power for 800 years.

Some royal house or something.

By far the best Plague column I saw during TSOJ.

You don’t see things like this in Bakersfield.

The golden dome was designed by Klimt.

Just another Vienna building.

Walter telling half the bike riders about the fountain.

Public housing Vienna style.

All in all the bike tour took about two hours and Walter was able to make it to meet the cable man in time. I think he also mentioned a meeting he had with a couple beers, but in my opinion Walter earned those beers. He did not lose anyone on the tour, he entertained me, he did not tell any lies (as far as I can tell), and he did have a lot to say if you kept up with him.

TSOJ: Vienna Has Excellent Drinking Water, or Does It? (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)
TSOJ: Prague – Aussies, Bike Rides and Dealing with Being Sick (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)
TSOJ: A Night at the Opera…I put on pants for this? (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)
TSOJ: Bike Tour of Potsdam (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)
TSOJ: Final Thoughts on Norway (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)
TSOJ: Copenhagen – Terrifying Towers, Nonexistent Museums, and Stealing Coffee (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)
TSOJ: Iceland’s Harpa Tour (joneekhoff.wordpress.com)

TSOJ: A Night at the Opera…I put on pants for this?

By South of the Strait on July 31, 2013 • ( 10 Comments )

I have never been to an Opera. I have never really wanted to go to the Opera because you have to dress up a lot more than I want to, and I really don’t know enough about the operas to enjoy them, but when I found out that I could attend an opera for free in Vienna I thought it might be time to give the grand old opera a try.

The big, big screen at the Vienna town hall.

The opera I attended was by Verdi. Now I don’t know much about Verdi, but I do know that I have some of his stuff on my iPod for when I want music that is old and famous, it makes me seem a little more cultured than I am and I can pretend that I know something about Verdi by saying, “Verdi, ah yes, Verdi. I was listening to a Verdi aria today on my iPod.” I don’t even know if Verdi wrote arias, because the definition of an aria is unclear to me, but Verdi probably did and most people won’t call you on it if you sound confident. They might be thinking, “Did Verdi write an aria? I can’t think of one, but I don’t want to sound stupid, so I won’t ask.”

I figured at some point during the opera there would be an “aha” moment when I recognized the song and would be able to hum along with the crowd in that knowing way. This has happened to me at a couple of musicals I attended. One moment I watching the play and then next thing I know they are singing a song that I kind of know, and my brain goes, “Hey, this is that song I know. I can now mouth the words and act like I knew this song was in this musical.”

Vienna does this “bring culture to the masses” thing every night in July. It really is pretty cool. Seventeen restaurants have semi-permanent booths set up to serve food on real dishes with real silverware and drinks are served in real glasses, so it is pretty classy. They then have some concert or opera on a huge screen that is hanging from the neck of the town hall.

I heard this was a classy gathering so I wanted to make sure I made a good impression, so after a long day of roaming the streets of Vienna I went back to my hotel took a shower and put on pants, a button up shirt and shoes. I didn’t want to be the guy standing there dressed like a slob, I wasn’t but apparently the “let’s dress up” memo did not get to everyone attending the opera. I suppose it is better to be overdressed for most occasions than underdressed, unless of course you are overdressed to participate in a sporting event. Wingtips don’t always provide the traction needed in a game of pick-up basketball, but most often it is better to be the best dressed as opposed to the worst dressed.

This is the outfit I wanted to wear, not the dress, the shorts and sandals.

If your shirt and your hat match and your name isn’t Duchess, it is time to change your hat.

Long pants...sometimes even long pants are a bad choice.

Acid washed pants and color treated hair? Time to take somebody’s man card.

These silk pants come from the David Carradine collection.

Pink shorts, Red Stripe beer tank top, and Syl Stallone’s mom all in one shot.

Black socks are not always a no-no.

The challenge for Vienna is that there are a lot of people like me: Opera neophytes. So the vibe is more like a bar than an opera house, and I suppose this is why the Viennese come out to see Verdi on the big screen. This is one of those perfect culture traps that probably gets people into opera, but it is also one of those things that drives real opera fans crazy because there is a lot of noise in the crowd since everyone is drinking and eating well past dark.

Chicken and noodles: 7 Euros, not too bad.

The food booths are good and reasonably priced, but here are some tips for you noobs out there. 1. Never get a pretzel as big as your head. It seems like a good idea, but it isn’t. There isn’t anything more cliché than a guy walking around with a jumbo sized pretzel in one hand and a large beer in the other. It is like a little kid with a balloon and a oversized lollipop. 2. Eating standing up is okay, but sitting down is much better. 3. Everyone speaks English so don’t worry about limiting yourself to stuff that looks easy to order. 4. People in Europe eat much later than we do in North America, so try to eat around 8 PM. This might mean that you have to have a snack, but eating at 6 when everyone else is just arriving is a bit sad and then you will have to waste two hours waiting for the sun to go down and the opera to start.

Large cheese pretzel…maybe not such a good idea.

On to the opera. At 9:30 this little lady came out to speak to the crowd, she was little because she was a long way from me and standing in front of a huge screen, so it was probably an optical illusion, but she might have been smaller than average. She spoke in German for a long time, about five minutes of German and then she did about 20 seconds of English. German and English are not that much different, so I knew I was losing something in the translation, but I found out the opera was named “Simon Bocanegro” which kind of, sort of rang a bell in my head. I was thinking that I might know some of the music, but then I realized that the reason the name range a bell was because there was some sports guy I knew named Carlos Bocanegro. I could not remember what sport Carlos played, so for 10 of the 20 seconds of the English translation I was trying to figure out what sport Carlos Bocanegro played. When I moved out of my brain and back into the real world I had missed most of what she said because she was now speaking Italian, I think. I went back to trying to figure out the Carlos/Simon Bocanegro problem and then finally resolved to look it up on the internet when I got back to my hotel, but my little brain still would not let it go so I distracted it by translating Bocanegro into English. Boca= Mouth, Negro= Black. Black mouth, hmmm, the opera is probably about some dental problems? or possibly it is more metaphoric and means that there is a character that has difficulty with swearing?

Let’s get ready for some opera!

Five minutes of that nimble brain activity put my mind to rest on the Carlos Bocanegro situation and I was then able to sit back and enjoy my first opera, or shall I say I was able to sit back and try to figure out what the hell was going on.

The big star of the opera was Placido Domingo, I think. I don’t really know who the star of the show was because after eight minutes I couldn’t tell what was going on.

Here are the problems I had with the production: It was in Italian, I have enough trouble figuring out English lyrics. Everything I know about the Italian language can be boiled down to watching Life is Beautiful a bunch of times.
Everyone was dressed the same. The two main guys had the same hair cut, were about the same size, and could have been twins.

So here is what happened in Simon Bocanegro: Sailors pulled some ropes, eventually one guy started singing loudly in bursts, there was some kind of confrontation between the twins guys, one of the guys draws a sword and they sing, the other dude bows down. Assumptions I am making at this point: One of these guys is named Simon. One of them is Placido Domingo. Some of this will start to make sense soon.
Then a body wrapped in a shroud gets dragged onto the stage, things are looking up. I might like Opera. This scene is never resolved in the first 45 minutes of the opera, which is apparently the attention span I have for an opera that I don’t understand. The guys sing about the dead person, I assume, I really don’t know if they were singing about the price of peas is Persia, and then the curtain closes. The crowd claps politely, and I wonder if now is a good time to leave my first opera.
The scene changes to some lady singing to another lady who NEVER sings. (Again, this is an observation based on the first 45 minutes of the opera.) I found the second, non-singing role to be confusing. It is an opera, shouldn’t everyone sing? My second thought was that maybe there is a chance for me to get into opera since I could sit there and not sing. Singing lady number one finished her little bursts of song, and I assume that one of the guys from the first scene will show up and a love interest will be sprouted. Boy am I wrong, instead of one of the signing sailors some really fat guy appears and starts singing to the lady. Are they in love? Who is this guy? What is going on? This is 45 minutes into the Opera. I have done everything I can to give the impression that I am cultured: I sat with my legs crossed at the knees. I sat forward. I put my hands on my crossed knees. I put my hand up to my chin…none of these physical attempts at body posturing worked, so instead of pretending to understand what was going on I took a moonlit walk in Vienna and tried to remember who Carlos Bocanegro was.

TSOJ: Final Thoughts on Berlin

By South of the Strait on July 28, 2013 • ( 4 Comments )

I found beer flavored beer was best.

10. Flavored beer has its limits. While in Berlin I sampled lime flavored/colored beer, raspberry flavored/colored beer, lemon beer, and grape/colored (is grape a color?) beer. The research was exhausting, but that is why I am here, I boldly drink what many women and children have drunk before. The lime beer was passable, the lemon beer was good, everything else was a bad idea. I refused to try the banana beer. I did hear that the banana beer was good, but after the grape disaster I decided to stick to regular beer.

“I’m Scottish and trying to speak English!”

9. Drunks are annoying no matter where you go. “Oh, I see, you can drink all the flavored beer you want, but if some Scotsmen get a little too much beer in them…” Okay, first off, I did not drink all that awful beer at once. I spaced the bad beer into different days to keep my precious palate clean. I was having a nice evening in Berlin when this crew began having “too much fun.” How do you know you are having too much fun? You are loud. You are speaking English, but the people who understand English are constantly asking you to repeat what you said because they are not sure if you are still speaking English.

185(365) knees (Photo credit: JasonTank)

8. Cut-off shorts must be stopped. I remember seeing these pants/shorts things and laughing, now they are everywhere and Berlin is not helping to stop the spread of this fashion disease. I really, really don’t like this. What is next? Bell-bottoms, super bell-bottoms, and open necked shirts with medallions?

7. Gypsies have shifted their begging strategy in Berlin. I could be wrong about this, but I did not see the traditional women asking for money. I was caught off-guard once. I was walking down the Unter den Linden and a young man approached me with a little piece of cardboard and a signature page. He indicated that he could not hear by pointing at his ears and making moaning sounds. I looked at the signature page and thought I was signing a document for legislation for deaf people…until I got to the last box to fill in: Donation. I put a big 0 with a line through it and got a little steamed. It was obviously a scam and felt like tossing his little sign into the street, but just handed it back to him and told him he was getting nothing from me. After this incident, I saw many more of these “deaf” guys all about the same age wandering the tourist areas asking for “donations.” I assume people who are deaf are actually taken care of in Berlin and know SIGN LANGUAGE!

6. Beggars in Berlin, and in many cities I visited, have multiplied. What struck me about the beggars (I am not speaking of homeless people) in Berlin were the physical deformities. I saw one shirtless man with scars covering his back and shoulders from some type of acid or fire burn and I saw other people whose legs had been so badly damaged that they could barely walk. I know that in some countries beggars are physically maimed in order to improve their ability to get more money and after seeing these people I wondered if this “tradition” has moved to Berlin. It is difficult to believe that in a country that provides so much of a social safety net that there are people still falling through the cracks. The cynical part of me thinks that it is a scam, but I also cannot help but carry the guilt of winning the “birth lottery.”

Jewish Holocaust Memorial.

5. There is no better city in the world for history and moving monuments. I have not been to Cairo, Athens, or Istanbul, but I think Berlin holds more history than any other spot. Of course, this history can not be glamorized and the German people have done a better job than any other place I have been to hold a mirror up to the horrors and learn from them.

Empty underground library located where the Nazis burned books, and little of my finger.

4. Bullet holes in stuff makes it more interesting. I remember being fascinated by a church in London that still had scars from bombs dropped in WWII. I looked and looked at the small dents and chunks missing from the marble of the church and understood that history wasn’t something that just happened in a boring class or books. Berlin has more bullet holes in it than a Quentin Tarantino movie. Even the Victory Tower, which has been fully restored, still has all the bullet holes and dents left in it.

Victory Tower recently restored.

The restoration missed a few spots.

Chunk of marble missing from WWII.

3. The German language mystifies me. I really cannot seem to make my mouth and eyes work at the same time. I see the word, think about what it might sound like, and then completely mispronounce the word. This is shameful, but it is a fact. I cannot order a single food in German besides beer, and the only reason I can pronounce beer is because it sounds the same in English.

2. Eat street food in Berlin. The currywurst is good, the doner is great, and the ethnic food in Berlin is really outstanding. Most of us want to go to Germany and eat “German” food but if you want to eat that stuff do it in Munich where they celebrate that whole beer and brats thing. In Berlin eat ethnic food. It is less expensive and really good.

Currywurst mit pommes.

Rhubarb flavored soda? I’ll bet that is good…nope.

Doner.

1. I can visit Berlin many more times and not get tired of it. (Okay, full disclosure, I do think they need to do something about the smell.)

TSOJ: Berlin, like a local (who speaks no German)

By South of the Strait on July 24, 2013 • ( 2 Comments )

East Berlin

When you are in Berlin during the summer you will get a whiff of something unpleasant, something that smells like a sewer and that is because it is the sewer. I don’t know why the sewer smells like it does, but it is one of those distinctive aspects of Berlin that are inexplicable. In a country with the infrastructure like Germany one would think that moving human waste without having the odor escape from the sewer might be a priority, but apparently it is not, but after a few days in Berlin I did not notice the smell any longer. The only thing I did smell was on a particularly hot day I got on a subway and smelled what can only be described as Atomic B O. I wondered who on the subway needed a shower, the good news was that the person in need of a shower was the dude wearing my shirt. The best part of me stinking up the subway car was that I really didn’t care. Yep, I should have put on more deodorant, but I didn’t and now it is too late. I was trying to conserve a little travel sized deodorant for the whole month-long trip, but I was now running low and in my effort to conserve I probably went a little too far. (I have since come to my senses and purchased another lump of deodorant.)

One of the best things about going to Berlin was seeing someone I knew. Aristea was a Berliner and had been a student at my school this past year. My first words to her when I met her in the summer were, “Your city smells.” (I’m all class, all the time.) Despite this first encounter, she agreed to meet with me while I was in Berlin. We met at the Jewish Museum (after I found it, I got lost twice thanks to 70/30% rule of German signage) and I met Aristea’s friend Chloe who was visiting from France. We wandered through the museum for a little while trying to understand what was going on, but I was struck immediately by the use of one word in all of the descriptions of the Jewish people in the exhibits: murdered. Almost all of the Holocaust/Jewish museums I have been to say things like, “Issac perished in Auschwitz, or Issac was executed in Auschwitz, or Issac died in Auschwitz.” Murdered is a personal word, it is not a word used to describing mass killings. I am certain that this word was used purposefully, to personalize the deaths of these innocent people, but also to hammer home the deaths were intentional and not accidental or part of the machine of time.

The modern wing of the Jewish Museum.

Another beautiful day in Berlin.

Several of the exhibits were just experiences. I stood in a large room looking up at a shaft of light, there was no explanation, but to me it seemed like the hope of the Jewish people during the Holocaust. They could see something in the distance but were surrounded by darkness and the light was very far away.

That light was way, way up there.

The next spot was a little courtyard with large rectangular blocks of cement. At first everything seemed normal, until you stood in the courtyard. The blocks provided a visual illusion that you were standing upright, but the ground was actually on a slope and it was difficult to walk because the visual cues were telling you one thing, but the reality was different.

Looks straight up, but it isn’t.

We eventually got upstairs and began the history part of the museum. I thought I knew a little about Jewish life and beliefs, but it did not take long for me learn about five times as much as I had ever known. I learned about traditions, about Jewish beliefs, about Jewish history, and about stuff I hadn’t ever considered. We were there for two and a half hours and we could have stayed there twice as long.

Aristea standing in front of a sound wall. The headphones picked up different voices as you moved around. No one spoke English, but a few times I recognized a name and age from the voices.

The Tree of Wishes. Grab a paper apple, write a wish, hang it in the tree. I put, “I hope the Cubs win the World Series.” That is a lie, I put up a little hippie note about love and peace.

Large glass courtyard set aside for eating and thinking after the visit.

After the Jewish museum we were off to eat Thai food. I love Thai food, but I also suffer from the idea that the best ethnic food can be found in America. Why did I believe this? Primarily ignorance, but a little of it was buying into the idea that America is a melting pot of many cultures and everywhere else in the world is pretty much a collection of mono-ethnic cultures where people don’t mix. This is not the case, the world is incredibly diverse and while America has good Thai food, so does Berlin, really good Thai food.

We met Aristea’s mom at the restaurant and got seats outside along the street. I really love the relaxed attitude of eating outside in Europe, it is one of the great pleasures of life. At our table to eat Thai food, we had a French woman, two Berliners and an American, it was very international, the best news was that everyone spoke excellent English. It was so nice to be able to be taken care of by my German-speaking hosts. They ordered, picked up the food, and picked up the bill. I had some duck and curry. It was very good, and I got to try a mango drink that was also very nice. I spent a lot of time talking to Aristea’s mom about the United States about her travels. After I told her about my harrowing experience climbing the tower in Copenhagen, she told me that it was possible to climb up into the tower in the center of the Tiergarten. I hadn’t planned on climbing anymore towers, but this one looked pretty safe compared to the one in Copenhagen. After dinner, we walked to a coffee shop and had some caffeine and cake to top the evening off. It was one of those leisurely evenings that seem so hard to accomplish in America. Culturally we could learn a lot from the Europeans when it comes to eating and relaxing. Imagine eating a meal for two hours in America, it just doesn’t happen, but it should.

At the end of the evening, Aristea’s mom drove me back to my hotel by way of all of the places I should visit on my last day. I managed to make it to all of the locations on my final day in Berlin, but nothing was better than the evening that I got to pretend I was a local.

TSOJ: Bike Tour of Potsdam

By South of the Strait on July 21, 2013 • ( 3 Comments )

In my humble and important opinion, bike tours are one of the best ways to see most European cities, and my favorite bike tour company (Fat Tire Bike Tours) always manages to do all the things that make a bike tour great. I have taken three tours based in Paris (day tour, night tour, Versailles) and I have taken one of the many Berlin tours, so when I saw that there was a tour of Potsdam offered by Fat Tire I did not hesitate to sign up. When solo traveling these tours are great for meeting people and seeing the sights.

The Crew, ready to rule the mean streets of Potsdam.

When I decided that Potsdam was on my itinerary I knew very little about the history of Potsdam other than the end of WWII and Potsdam had some distant connection in my brain. By the end of the day I knew as much as someone with a PhD in German history. (This is a lie, but I could pass a two question test on German history written in English.)

We kicked off our tour by informally introducing ourselves and it wasn’t long before we all agreed that it was a small world as we made connections from our pasts. (For example, one of the ladies on the tour had grown up in the mighty PNW and had spent many summers at a family cabin in Grayland, WA where I worked for 16 years.) We all hopped on a train to Potsdam and picked up our bikes. The bikes all have names printed on their frames and I ended up with The Alman Brothers, I really wanted Anna Kornikova but I didn’t think my wife would approve of me riding Anna all day. Off we went, it was a cooler than usual day and I was prepared by having hairy legs and arms. The people from California and Arizona in our group were cold, but I was comfortable the whole day.

Doing my job as “ass man.” Blocking a car, a horse drawn carriage, and taking an ill advised picture while riding downhill.

Our guide, Craig, was from Australia and brought that Aussie relaxed attitude the entire day. One of the first things to decide on the tour is who gets to ride in the very back. In France they called this the derrière, but in Germany the last person is referred to as the “ass man.” The payment to be the “ass man” is one beer back at the shop, I had been the derriere before and quickly volunteered to take care of business as the “ass man.” The “ass man’s” job is to make sure no one gets left behind and at times is the person who blocks traffic. The nice thing about the Potsdam tour is that there was not any need to block traffic since most of the day we were riding through the huge parks in Potsdam.

I will now sum up everything you need to know about Potsdam in a paragraph. (If you need to check any of the historical accuracy of this section please use Wikipedia.) The Germans wanted to have a Versailles like place for their royalty to hang out, so they built a bunch of castles. It got a bit out of control. Many of the buildings were like Hollywood stage sets and did not have much substance. The different kings all had their own ideas about what to build and pretty soon there was a mess of different styles of architecture. Eventually the kings lost power after WWI and the place was kind of ignored for a few years, until the Big Three (not LeBron, D Wade, and Chris Bosh, but America, England, and Russia) were looking for a place to divide up Germany after WWII. The Big Three met in Potsdam because the rest of the country only had about three buildings left standing. (This bombing is described in Germany as inhumane, in the US it is described as necessary.) After the Potsdam Accord was signed the Cold War started and we got to move our hatred from Germans to Russians. After that Potsdam was controlled by the East Germans and the castles were used by the Communist Party leaders as summer retreats. There was some other important stuff along the way, but that is the condensed version.

On our bikes we saw some awesomely weird buildings and rode around the whole city. I must say, when people have unlimited funds to build things they go a bit nutty. The worst building was this Chinese Pagoda building. There were Germans who had been to China to trade opium and they returned with some great stories about the buildings, so instead of having the architect visit China or bringing in a Chinese builder, they just kind of winged it. The result is a building that is either blatantly racist, or just plain ugly. I believe the traders were smoking their product instead of just trading it.

This is a real building. This building exists.

What’s worse, the hats or the mustache?

That’s a lot of gold leaf.

Shocked, but certainly amused.

One of the kings, Frederick The Great (aka Frederick II), had an exciting life. He tried to run away from his father and leave the royal thing in the rearview mirror, but one of his friends ratted him out. (Most historians agree he was homosexual and trying to escape with his lover.) The king executed Fredrick’s lover; forcing Fred to watch. Freddy then decided to behave himself and even got married (kind of, no kids and he is buried next to his dogs, his wife’s grave is nowhere to be seen). The best thing King Freddy did was bring potatoes to Germany. At first Germans did not want to eat potatoes, so the King Freddy made a law that said that only the royals could eat potatoes. This changed everyone’s attitude about potatoes and soon people were trying to steal potatoes from the royal potato patch. After a year king Freddy lifted the ban on potatoes and everyone was making potato salad, mashed potatoes, and eating potatoes like crazy. Germans are still potato crazy.

The Potato King’s grave, with potatoes and his dogs, you can not make up history this awesome.

Around noon, we stopped to have a little lunch in a beer garden. This beer garden overlooked a lake and offered traditional German food: Beer, sausages, lentil soup, potatoes of various types, and pretzels. I decided that a liter of seasonal beer was needed to wash down my brat, potato salad, and kraut. It was a great break in the middle of the day and allowed all of us to sit around a table and find a little more about each other. Craig, the tour guide, said the most surprising thing of all; he wanted to travel to America and see the southern states: Alabama, Arkansas, Mississippi, and Texas. All of the Americans were shocked by this information. Most often, these are not the locations that tourists want to visit, but Craig said that he heard that people there were crazy and he wanted to see them with his own eyes. This view is even more odd when one considers that Craig is from Australia and seeing crazy people is easy enough in his homeland. This is not an opinion, it is a fact.

They needed Dutch builders, so they built Dutch style houses to entice them to come to Potsdam.

Sanssouci from the gardens below: The Summer Palace.

This was the servant housing…really, they had the servants stay here so they could show the other rulers where the servants stayed.

Need a windmill to make it look like Holland? Then build a windmill.

Roman ruins built in the distance to look like Roman ruins. If you want to see real Roman ruins you will have to go to Disneyland.

What do you do when you are at war with England (WWI)? Well, you build a really big English Tudor style mansion. Makes perfect sense in Potsdam.

We finished the tour at the building where the Potsdam Accord was signed. I did not pay the extra fee to take photographs inside the building. There were three rooms for the three leaders: Churchill, Stalin, and Eisenhower; and one big room with a big round table for the actual meetings. It is strange to sit in a room where the course of history was changed, or at least to know that many of my childhood fears of the USSR were formed by the decisions made in this room. We hopped back on our bikes and cruised back to the train station, just barely made our train, and then headed back into Berlin. Once we made it to the bike shop I collected my beer and was given a chunk of the wall. I don’t know if the chuck was because I did a passable job as “ass man,” but it doesn’t matter why I was awarded the fist sized piece of cement because to me the fall of the wall is more about the potential for change than anything else. I never thought I would see the day when Germany was combined and I never thought we would live in a world where the Communist Bloc did not exist any longer. It gives me hope for the future and for all the challenges the human race will face.

TSOJ: Berlin–Ugly Shoes, Horrible Hotels, and How Germany Won the War of Breakfast

By South of the Strait on July 21, 2013 • ( 7 Comments )

Jesus in Berlin. I’m not sure if he is doing a swan dive, or is using the Crane technic (Karate Kid allusion) to fight off evil in Germany.

Let’s be honest, most Americans have a singular view of German history: Hitler. I don’t want to minimize Hitler’s impact on Germany, but reducing German history to the years around 1930-1945 is a little like reducing American history to the Reagan years.

Berlin has seen it all and for any traveler interested in history, Berlin is a must stop.

Travel inside Berlin has some challenges for a non-German speaker, but people are generally helpful and most speak excellent English. For me the public transportation is a challenge. Whereas London, and Paris have systems that I find easy to use, Berlin is a complicated mess. Now, I am certain that the locals all know how everything works, but to me the S system and U system need a bit of work. I was told that the S system is above ground and the U system in underground, but that isn’t always the truth. Coming off a U train and having to find an S train is a sometimes difficult. Couple that with Germany’s directional signage problems and you have a lot of lost tourists. (I found that almost all the signs got you 70% of the way, the last 30% is supposed to be intuition.) The number of times I started one direction, came back, and then finally figured it out are too many to mention. I don’t believe that Germans care that you get lost, and frankly who can blame them a lost tourist is a comical person to watch: The map flapping in the wind, the confused look, the orientation of map to streets, and the joy of knowing where you are going is a great example of Schadenfreude. I’m not saying that Germans are purposely being mean, they just seem to get a little more joy from your discomfort than other people.

Warning! Germans making signs! Beware of exclamation points!

Berlin is also the best place that I know of to see chunks of ancient history, WWI and WWII history, Cold War history, and European reunification. London has a lot of this same history, but it is seen from a longer lens, in Berlin it happened in the streets beneath your feet. The greatest example is the brick line that cuts through the street in front of Brandenburg Gate.

It is much easier to cross from East Berlin to West Berlin these days.

These shoes were made for running and that’s not what they’ll do, instead they’ll walk, and walk all over you ex-Berlin Wall.

Today cars drive across this little brick path, but just twenty-five years ago there was a wall separating East and West Berlin and a large chunk of ground between the two cities called the dead zone. This is now completely gone and the two cities are now one large metroplex of a city. Most cities grow around a center (I like to think of it like the yolk of a fried egg), but since Berlin had two centers for so many years it is like one of those two yolked eggs. There is the Western center of museums and culture, and then there is the Eastern chunk. When it comes to Berlin’s museums I will admit that I like the stuff the East had stolen better than the stuff the West had.

I think one of the most important aspects of Germany’s history is that they do not hide from their mistakes. It is not difficult to spend your whole day visiting Hitler sites and reviewing the horror of the Holocaust and WWII. Much of this history could have been revised, but Germans have done the more difficult thing, and that is to brush off the dust of history and show people how a country can take the small steps that eventually lead to inhumane acts of genocide.

Just one of the hundreds of reminders of the horrors of WWII.

Jewish Holocaust Memorial in Berlin.

The square where they burned books has this reminder. The quote translates roughly into, “When you begin by burning books, you end by burning people.”

How did I end up buying the ugliest shoes in Berlin? Well, my blister problems have been well documented during The Summer of Jon, but I finally decided that I would do whatever was needed to find shoes that did not cause me blisters, so as soon as I arrived in Berlin I struck out to find a shoe store. The good news is that my hotel was near one of the major shopping areas in Western Berlin, Ku Dam. So, I hobbled up along Ku Dam until I reached a shoe store and looked for a cheap pair of running shoes. I found some that met my requirements: not too loud, on sale, and in my size. I bought the shoes, asked where I could put them on, and then found out that the shoes I bought were too small. I took the shoes back to the register and talked to the salesman. He said they normally don’t carry shoes bigger than 45, which is close to an American 12. I normally wear a 12.5 so I asked if there were any shoes in my size, the salesman said that they don’t get many shoes that size but he would look. He came back with one pair of bright yellow shoes. “These are the only ones we have in your size,” he said. These shoes only met one of my three requirement–they fit. Everything else was wrong. Florescent yellow is not a shoe color in my opinion, and the shoes were not on sale. My desperation forced me into buying some epically ugly shoes and these shoes have not gone unnoticed. Germans are probably better at making disapproving faces at strangers than any other culture. I got a lot of looks. I know that I am probably just a trend setter, and that everyone is jealous of my cool shoes.

Berlin’s man hole covers are world class, but they have never seen shoes this ugly.

When booking hotel I take into consideration many things, location, ratings on TripAdvisor, cost, and whether breakfast is offered. Sometimes I make a mistake. The biggest mistake would be the first time my family visited Iceland. There were not many hotels to choose from and prices were high for a family of four. We ended up in a place called the Flying Viking (pronounced Flying Wiking.) It was a little like a garage, a little like a hostel, and a lot like a place that my family universally hated. I was less concerned about the ratings of a hotel on this trip as saving money was the primary priority and because of that I didn’t mind staying in riskier hotels that were centrally located. Berlin has lots of hotels that do not cost a ton and I found one called Hotel Pension Kima just off Ku Dam and surrounded by expensive shops. It sounded like a no brainer to me. I booked it. My hopes were pretty high until I stepped into the elevator. The elevator resembled a painted wooden box that moved up and down the shaft by means of a hamster powered engine. It was the type of elevator that when you step into it, it sinks three inches. This did not make me feel safe, the sign next to the elevator did not reassure me. What does this sign mean? Be careful when passing the flame? Hell is located close by? Stand with your arms straight when the box catches fire?

Crisscrossing lasers, fire, death in a box…

After I got my key and headed up to my room, I was confronted by the uncomfortable fact that I was staying in a dive. The bed looked clean and that was really the only important thing, but I wondered how many people had died in this very room. Berlin is an old city and I estimated there were probably at least five people who took their last breath here. There was also the possibility that no one had died here because it was actually a broom closet until it was converted into my room. I dealt with the situation like most travelers, I spent as little time in the room as possible. I slept there and then spent the day out and about. This might be the best reason to stay in a dive, it forces you to get out of the hotel.

Don’t get turned around in here, you could get lost.

This room was used to store horse brushes during the Hapsburg dynasty.

The other part of the hotel was the morning breakfast. I looked forward to it since German baked goods are very good. Apparently my hotel did not get the memo about feeding me German baked goods. We had coffee, orange juice, a couple cereal choices, cheese, meat, hardboiled eggs, and very bad breads. I tried to eat my usual 5,000 calories on the first day, but it was forced, and on day two and three I was eating a small breakfast and then paying for a large lunch. The good news was that I was able to eat cheaply since Berlin is a reasonably priced town, and beer is certainly not frowned upon for lunch.

Getting ready to take out my “breakfast anger” on some brats and beer.

Let The Summer of Jon Begin: Top Ten

By South of the Strait on June 30, 2013 • ( 2 Comments )

Top Ten things I am looking forward to during The Summer of Jon

10. Eating three hotdogs each day while in Iceland at Bæjarins beztu pylsur.

English: Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur, known as the best hot dog stand in Reykjavik. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

9. A full day at the Blue Lagoon. (Slippers and robe included.)

Blue Lagoon (Photo credit: Arian Zwegers)

8. Seeing Munch’s The Scream.

Munch The Scream lithography (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

7. Spending some time in the Danish Design Museum

English: Table and chairs designed by Kaare Klint at the Danish Design Museum in Copenhagen (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

6. Visiting the Carlsberg Brewery

English: The “Elephant Gate” at the Carlsberg Brewery, Copenhagen, Denmark. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

5. Taking the Norway in a Nutshell tour.

Norway in a Nutshell: Flåm (Photo credit: TXMagpie)

4. Touring Potsdam on bike

Potsdam, Germany: Sanssouci Palace with vineyard (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

3. Walking though Vigeland Park (Froger Park) in Oslo.

Vigeland Children (Photo credit: Will Cyr)

2. Vienna’s outdoor evening concerts/movies at city hall.

Vienna’s Town hall (4) (Photo credit: Elena Romera)

1. A full day bike tour of Prague.

English: A panoramic view of Prague as viewed from Petřín Lookout Tower. The view is approximately 180 degrees, from north on the left to south on the right. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Top Ten Concerns/Fears/Obsessive thoughts

10. The exchange rate. There is going to be some weird money on this trip. The Icelandic Kroner’s current exchange rate is about 125 to 1. This sounds good, but I don’t want to have to use skills from my Algebra 1 class in 1850.

9. Angry German bakers. I could avoid German bakers altogether but then I would have to avoid German baked goods…not gonna happen.

8. Being on time. I will show up to the airport three hours before my flight just like I am told, but once I am on the road I don’t want to spend time waiting.

7. Italians walking slowly.

6. Italians cutting in line. Okay this can be anyone cutting in line. Getting off the ferry in Victoria last week I purposely stepped in between a family that was cutting in line knowing that they couldn’t pass through customs as two groups. There is a line people! Get in the line or I will get all Clint Eastwoody on you. (Not the talking to a chair Clint Eastwood, but the Clint that stares into the sun and spits on stuff.)

5. Heat. I am a delicate flower and heat will make me wilt.

4. Not being able to speak the primary language of any country I am visiting. Yes, I am going to assume everyone will speak to me in English. My multiple years of Spanish class will probably not pay off in Iceland. Actually, my Spanish is only good for laughs these days.

3. Being stuck someplace where they play Techno music.

2. Being stuck on the plane next to someone who wants to talk too much.

1. Gypsies!

My Favorite Places: Bacharach, Germany

By South of the Strait on March 22, 2012 • ( Leave a comment )

Nestled along the Rhine River sits a little town named Bacharach. Bacharach is one of those towns that refuses to move into the 19th Century. Sure it has running water and toilets, but it is like a little town in a snow globe, it is as cute and unchanged as any place I have ever been. There is a fake almost Disneyland look to the town, but it is a real place.

Downtown Bacharach during rush hour.

The cobblestone streets, the leaning timbered buildings, and the lack of crowds makes a tourist feel like they have fallen off the world. How many times did I say, “I can’t believe this place still exists?” Probably too many, but I really couldn’t believe it.

What is there to do in Bacharach? Eat, sit around, drink cold sweet wine, walk, take short hikes up to the castle above the town, and relax. This is not a destination if you are 25 and looking for a party, but for families or finely aged members of the world this is a great destination.

Don’t miss the ice cream/gelato shop on the main street and don’t forget to head up into the hills away from the river.

Bacharach and the Rhine from the hillside above the town.

Above the town is a trail leading to a destroyed church and a castle that has been converted into a hostel. If you venture just beyond the castle there is another fantastic viewpoint.

The end of the trail above Bacharach.

The interior courtyard of the castle above Bacharach.

Most of the hillsides around Bacharach are lined with vineyards and dotted by castles. There are river boats that will drag you up and down the river if you want to feel like you’re on a Disney ride with 3,000 of your closest friends. (It is a crowded touristy activity, but I think it was worth it.) A few of the castles are in ruins but the majority of them have been pretty well preserved. The castle above St. Goar is stunning. I intended to visit the castle with my family but I ordered a large beer for lunch. After drinking the two liter beer, I didn’t really feel like doing much, other than taking a nap. These are the difficulties in traveling in Germany, you order a big beer and they bring you something that looks more like a pitcher of beer than a pint. I am not a wasteful person, so I had to drink all of it.

For some folks Bacharach is a good distance from other destinations, but the German rail system is so good it really isn’t too inconvenient to find your way there. So, if you are planning a visit to Germany and you want to see what life was like before television, head to one of my favorite places: Bacharach.

South of the Strait

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Tag: German

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