tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62929778062122673402024-02-19T10:57:22.314-06:00A Complete Waste of Time And EnergyTravel, vegetables, and assorted ramblingsStraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.comBlogger153125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-66282125313578201962022-02-23T14:44:00.000-06:002022-02-23T14:44:41.924-06:00New Mexico Pt. 1 - Santa Fe<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheGpZLUMvWrh0yv9Fd4L3NNaRPDJg81Xq8_CtHCzeoJZ5XJ1uzJINray3dt65tjzFrQHjvGjabpL0FGcPxk7uunY074sSpGwQ3X1uCW-9BwHxNxXj5yp736s6Av6CE8SR0ToCM7rDEynGLFJosyY7kkZxCmiSBo3vgVh4KmV_iDV-RjDQYQXZgddEI=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheGpZLUMvWrh0yv9Fd4L3NNaRPDJg81Xq8_CtHCzeoJZ5XJ1uzJINray3dt65tjzFrQHjvGjabpL0FGcPxk7uunY074sSpGwQ3X1uCW-9BwHxNxXj5yp736s6Av6CE8SR0ToCM7rDEynGLFJosyY7kkZxCmiSBo3vgVh4KmV_iDV-RjDQYQXZgddEI=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div><br />Our grand adventure began in Albuquerque where through some unfathomable magic we arrived within thirty minutes of my Dad's arrival. We spent the evening catching up with family in the area, where we laughed off warnings about the "big snow storm" that was coming before heading North to Santa Fe. This is called foreshadowing.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1G8jK-0EW2ASrshInCMo5el0u0ztR5X3I-bWbCFZbaScYi8K2vL1U9TdiWTmtRyAPwPv6yl1N2oQgm3VAIgO6tVcUtOYrH6nVmPYoCMeOnUvryBwlFqsJgGee13_p1nQwCUx9zjz_C-BAcvtbvDPi7lQTRz9jbHZhk601D_HQwhV-e-80w1Qr2suZ=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi1G8jK-0EW2ASrshInCMo5el0u0ztR5X3I-bWbCFZbaScYi8K2vL1U9TdiWTmtRyAPwPv6yl1N2oQgm3VAIgO6tVcUtOYrH6nVmPYoCMeOnUvryBwlFqsJgGee13_p1nQwCUx9zjz_C-BAcvtbvDPi7lQTRz9jbHZhk601D_HQwhV-e-80w1Qr2suZ=s320" width="240" /></a></div><p>As we drove the hour to Santa Fe, the snow did indeed become heavier and visibility went down. As always in a new area, weather is as much about how the locals handle it as it is about how you yourself do. Other than a detour around a jackknifed truck though, the ended up being pretty uneventful. When we went out for dinner on night one we discovered that the hill and uncleared road that the vacation rental was on had us actually snowed in! Thankfully we had an assortment of trail snacks and food sent from family to tide us over. Probably karma for mocking the impending storm.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjpWg-jdrEWQWXdVR9SKoR7iswgyI1iySlrEsUaL-U6slSmW216y76Jt9XmFxPm8BGhCSH7uOFNsDTbu61F3ytZDjSsXlt1a5DExRWEjFsj970NNuCj4ULbhuEPZW-2J3uJ5dz06-0oRZD26qD0jaBcfQHDMrd-OLzNW-uIhvUdB_U5tJ5c5Ud9EUJK=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjpWg-jdrEWQWXdVR9SKoR7iswgyI1iySlrEsUaL-U6slSmW216y76Jt9XmFxPm8BGhCSH7uOFNsDTbu61F3ytZDjSsXlt1a5DExRWEjFsj970NNuCj4ULbhuEPZW-2J3uJ5dz06-0oRZD26qD0jaBcfQHDMrd-OLzNW-uIhvUdB_U5tJ5c5Ud9EUJK=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Santa Fe is an aggressively quaint town. It's historic downtown is centered around a Spanish-style plaza and all of its buildings are in the adobe style. It's very cute, though the snow and cold did slow us down a bit. In what was to be a theme, one of the two big churches was closed but we did get in to see the other. The main draw of this church was a set of stairs which, legend says, was created by a mysterious carpenter who showed ups, created them using no nails, then disappeared. The stairs are pretty cool, though the pictures of them before the railing was added for safety are definitely cooler.<p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjR1TvXoy8DoMseaSoe0jfpdBV6EJrHUfMcSfeo4nTzFcOnYcOxM1z4wgxSl2LfPOSZYNBhowV2RRQG8zmXpiVtRq7WGj3T7i0C7-WnH9E1KIV3ytEfhebQtOPSMvepo6qwcdQxW5bWMHw_U3D0Ya4GxaWTkjguarBzcxaVNcKRVE_i2tXDBPAzowkm=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjR1TvXoy8DoMseaSoe0jfpdBV6EJrHUfMcSfeo4nTzFcOnYcOxM1z4wgxSl2LfPOSZYNBhowV2RRQG8zmXpiVtRq7WGj3T7i0C7-WnH9E1KIV3ytEfhebQtOPSMvepo6qwcdQxW5bWMHw_U3D0Ya4GxaWTkjguarBzcxaVNcKRVE_i2tXDBPAzowkm=w300-h400" width="300" /></a></div><p><br /></p>Santa Fe also has a thriving art scene and we spent an enjoyable afternoon wandering their main gallery drag. We nearly dipped into sculpture for the first time, but ended up passing on the piece. We attempted to visit several other museums and shops, but kept encountering "closed due to weather" signs. This was extra frustrating for us when juxtaposed with the locals telling us that this weather wasn't that uncommon.<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4qidLzMAdsnrtyyRzBYRxqXe17ohUm1OORtzIXY6Wmv1yo_FTODt9-l7A_0OWMqfiiAgqi-caggGrnCXY6bEpUcIjvEkKI-Z5TN6gWFwOWY612dsc_uNnuSFJV3asbUc00KZ_lR6yM7glB79o693IL-R73_vDOoOemWYy0Mti64mUuT_CANu1J2gS=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh4qidLzMAdsnrtyyRzBYRxqXe17ohUm1OORtzIXY6Wmv1yo_FTODt9-l7A_0OWMqfiiAgqi-caggGrnCXY6bEpUcIjvEkKI-Z5TN6gWFwOWY612dsc_uNnuSFJV3asbUc00KZ_lR6yM7glB79o693IL-R73_vDOoOemWYy0Mti64mUuT_CANu1J2gS=s320" width="320" /></a></div><p>Overall, Santa Fe was a cute start to the trip, even if the weather put a small damper on it. Next up, Las Cruces!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiBurHn4q7Gg2zLxOCUs0UImP2iaUfSq9UaRHwh_KrycXBcLvUHhPtR7p5dqVy7_iTZLah1_1xgXPORLPgqnUszn1Jmp0oKyuj4TrxGERk-fYQ3OxB0njvns3t2lc3-NlRidchTK35FASzAXCh655ECgKvS5cY4PFsuudBSoWrT9VOQNsQWg1BPutjo=s4032" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiBurHn4q7Gg2zLxOCUs0UImP2iaUfSq9UaRHwh_KrycXBcLvUHhPtR7p5dqVy7_iTZLah1_1xgXPORLPgqnUszn1Jmp0oKyuj4TrxGERk-fYQ3OxB0njvns3t2lc3-NlRidchTK35FASzAXCh655ECgKvS5cY4PFsuudBSoWrT9VOQNsQWg1BPutjo=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></div>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-80745774647918415842022-01-24T15:01:00.001-06:002022-01-24T15:01:44.174-06:00New Mexico Bound<p>Next week we will be heading out on a two week trip to New Mexico, and I am going to make an effort to actually keep the blog vaguely up to date about the trip! We'll see if that comes to pass, but it's a nice theory.</p><p>Our main goal was to get away from Chicago's lovely winters while staying domestic (stupid Covid) and avoiding some of the more crowded options like Florida. We'll be flying in and out of Albuquerque and visiting Santa Fe, Las Cruces, and Carlsbad and their surrounding areas. While Santa Fe will be around freezing, the bulk of the trip should see highs in the 50s and 60s, which will seem downright tropical to us.</p><p>We're aiming for a good mix of cultural stuff, hiking, and nonsense. Culture will come in the form of the museum and galleries of Santa Fe. Hiking should be throughout with White Sands, the Organ Mountains, Carlsbad Caverns, and the San Guadalupe Mountains all in the area. Nonsense will, of course, include a day trip to Roswell, but also a visit to the world's largest pistachio. Sadly, there will be no visit to Pie Town, New Mexico to eat at one of their several pie-themed cafes due to it being three hours out of the way.</p>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-21455155667318841852021-02-06T11:03:00.000-06:002021-02-06T11:03:03.203-06:00The Foster Chronicles - Snowy<p>For the past year I have been volunteering at a local shelter. I spend a few hours a week socializing cats in the shelter itself, and we have also started dipping our toes into fostering. Yesterday, I brought home Snowy. </p><p>Snowy is a year-old male cat who needs a little help with socialization, which is a common reason for fostering. He was in a foster home before this and while he did well with the humans, apparently didn't care much for the resident cats. Enter our currently cat-free home.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRaBd_AUztciFkFixPtHvcovA6FTLfjCLowtnbzBU5HwfCjKy-axVQewZcsmBHgRB3p1fAGxFMqydolyeDdfi23fI1yYcgVxnzAWW7mRb5o3w75ZvRyHcXv9aiLcKIFsMTTq5Sze9W_VI/" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRaBd_AUztciFkFixPtHvcovA6FTLfjCLowtnbzBU5HwfCjKy-axVQewZcsmBHgRB3p1fAGxFMqydolyeDdfi23fI1yYcgVxnzAWW7mRb5o3w75ZvRyHcXv9aiLcKIFsMTTq5Sze9W_VI/w300-h400/IMG_1819.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>I had not met Snowy at the shelter before, so my first introduction to him was hearing his mournful cranky old man meow as he was brought out to me at the shelter. I have a soft spot for cranky old cats, so this was a promising start. He didn't love the walk home, which I can't blame him for given that it was windy and in the teens, and he continued to tell me about his woes for much of the walk.<p></p><p>Since our condo is really just three rooms and an entry-way, we are starting him out barricaded into the entryway using barstools, some wood clamps, and a collapsed cardboard box. </p><p>His first focus of exploration was the safety of the closet -- quickly discovering his litter, the empty shelf he could climb into and, most importantly, the magical safe space beneath the ladder behind a paint can. Every cat needs a fortress of solitude to go when they really want to be left alone, and I suspect this one will endure for him. He spent nearly all of the first afternoon and evening there. We did hear him eating a few times, only to spy him quickly dashing back into the closet keeping low to the ground to avoid detection upon our approach.</p><p>This is pretty typical for a foster cat, and we expect that today he'll start to come out of his shell a bit more. Next up will be expanding his world to include the kitchen and introducing his humans in a low-threat way.<br /></p>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-40838762042831908732016-07-11T18:45:00.000-05:002016-07-11T18:45:28.483-05:00Amalfi Part 2 - Amalfi and Atrani<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs62utd2hpG295-AE7AvTXpZWdqj01f1w67WAjZ6gwtC4uqLaEPhhngwy3NKwOeipLrt4BLquBY6yw69fOFF8EdBUDnE6uKs14NpUdlCAD0LlaYABLqulKaPVoFOmldcOImcqPNNMxCJM/s1600/01+Pano+from+Pier.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="134" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs62utd2hpG295-AE7AvTXpZWdqj01f1w67WAjZ6gwtC4uqLaEPhhngwy3NKwOeipLrt4BLquBY6yw69fOFF8EdBUDnE6uKs14NpUdlCAD0LlaYABLqulKaPVoFOmldcOImcqPNNMxCJM/s640/01+Pano+from+Pier.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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From Sorrento, we moved on to Amalfi via the bus. <br />
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This was a very scenic trip (we were on the right side for the best views) though a bit harrowing at times. I was amazed several times at the fact that were not hearing the scrape of metal on concrete, as these are <i>not</i> wide roads. In fact, during the busy season, the buses are only allowed to travel the road in one direction, taking a less scenic route back North.<br />
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Amalfi is one of the few towns in the region with decent bus access, so it's one of the larger and more tourist-focused towns. We still found it quite charming.<br />
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The town's main square is just up from the harbor, and is dominated by the elaborate facade of the Church of Saint Andrew.<br />
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We visited this square often and ended up getting a pre-dinner drink at this cafe most nights. There were often events going on in the small square, and if you squint here you can see the bell of a tuba from a marching band on the left and robed figure processing into the church up the long flight of stairs.<br />
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Note for later reference the ruined tower up on the cliff overlooking the back of the church. Foreshadowing!<br />
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Inside the church was nice, but fairly dark. The real treat was the Cloister del Paradiso adjoining. It offered a small but very well kept garden, faded friezes, and a good chance to take artsy-fartsy pictures of the church belltower.<br />
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Here is that tower again, this time at eye level. As I mentioned in the last post, this was a trip about climbing, and climb we did. One of the highlights of doing many walks in the same region was that the longer we stayed, the more different views we got of several of the same landmarks and towns. It really allowed us to piece together the geography as we went and ended up being very satisfying. It also prepped us for some of the unique challenges of navigating the region. Foreshadowing!<br />
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Here is a picture of the back of the church facade, our cafe, and the belltower from the tower we hiked to. This highlights the tilework on the belltower a bit more, which we would grow to learn is a hallmark of the area.<br />
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And a panorama of Amalfi from the same vantage point.<br />
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Before Amalfi's main industry was tourism, it was paper mills. The city sits in a river valley, and mills used to dot that valley, though the only remaining working mill is now the Amalfi Paper Museum. <br />
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We are suckers for small local museums, and this one certainly delivered. The bulk of the museum was in cramped, subterranean spaces which don't lend themselves very well to pictures, but I didn't let that stop me. All but the very oldest equipment still works, and you could see the engineers' eyes light up (mine included) when the guide opened the sluice and started several of them up. They are still controlled by water wheels! Neat!<br />
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The town next to Amalfi is Atrani, which despite being a 15 minute walk away feels like a very different town. But oh, that walk. To get a sense for what one faces when navigating the area, I present a photo essay featuring Mary pointing out the direction to go at each turn when walking between towns.<br />
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Donkey break! This was not the first time we saw donkeys being used to transport materials while we were in the area. It <i>is</i> a relatively modern area but when your only access is via stairs, sometimes the old ways are the best ways.<br />
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Mary, playing it cool in the presence of a bystander, pretending we were not filming a photo essay by studying the tsunami evacuation plan (it's 'go up', by the way.)<br />
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The square at last. Atrani is noticeably smaller and quieter than Amalfi, and has many fewer tourists. I was glad that we had restarted our Italian studies, as when I got us coffee and post cards I had to do it entirely in the native language.<br />
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Here is Atrani from an overlook on the walk. Given how small the square was, it was hard to get a picture that really captured it's character. While I'd not want to stay in Atrani due to how tiny it was, I did find it deeply charming and was very happy that we could walk there when we wanted.<br />
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<br />StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-89458438222932886062016-06-19T16:45:00.001-05:002016-06-19T16:45:09.187-05:00Amalfi Part 1 - Sorrento and CapriIn order to try to get back on a somewhat regular habit of posting to the blog, I am going to break up our latest trip into pieces (we took well over a thousand and a half pictures) and also go with a simpler formatting. Hopefully thus reducing the boring bits (fiddling with picture positioning) while still letting me do the fun part (bore people with stories about my vacation photos.)<br />
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After months and months of being back in the US, we finally made our triumphant return last month. We had been discussing a trip to Amalfi (just South of Naples, on the Mediterranean coast) for years, so it seemed like a good first big trip now that we're back.<br />
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And ahh...what a trip! Getting there was more difficult that we'd become accustomed to (no more 2 hour flights) but we still had a great time.<br />
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Our first few nights we spent in Sorrento, the heart of which is situated at the top of cliffs overlooking the sea, with two marinas connected by steep winding roads and staircases.<br />
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The main square was busy and bustling most days,though in the evening it's all shut down to motor traffic to better allow for the traditional evening stroll. Have I mentioned lately how much I love Italy?<br />
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Our hotel was unusually close to the main square for us; we usually stay more on the outskirts of the old town. It was on the smaller side, but ended up being quite nice despite being located over a frozen yogurt shop.<br />
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The first marina is basically a second small town situated outside of the city walls. The focus here is has historically been fishing, and that's carried through to today. (Sorry for the glare here, this trip has convinced me that I need some form of UV filter for the camera if we are going to visit sunny places.)<br />
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These days Marina Grande still has a neighborhood feel, with its own personality and vibe. It was a bit more rustic overall, which tends to appeal to our sensibilities. We had amazing seafood at one of the restaurants lining this stretch, and found ourselves drawn down here on many of our strolls.<br />
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The second marina is the "small marina", which despite the name always seemed the larger of the two. The bulk of the waterfront is taken up by 'beach clubs' that are built on piers stretching out into the water, most of which are covered in brightly colored huts.<br />
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While it was warm or hot the entire time we were there, we are not really folks to spend a vacation sun bathing, so we didn't spend any real time at these.<br />
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This is also where the passenger boats depart from, and where we took a boat to Capri.<br />
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Capri itself is a very small island off the coast with just two cities (and a bunch of houses we could never afford.) The port was bustling and confusing, though we did eventually find our way from our big boat to a small boat to take us to one of the island's chief attractions, The Blue Grotto.<br />
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Just getting to (and into) the grotto is an adventure in itself. From our large boat from Sorrento, we got into one that could hold a dozen passengers and made our way to the entrance. There we parked in a mass of boats ranging from huge yachts to tiny row boats.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzU7JcMiYcXX65rHbj6Q2KUKlOF-PjsqTGxE6xUH9UnQlNvq0WC3EfAY5VrM77dE77AiNSy8bwUIPZxc_Be59EfhhNp_DTbwxhC8GfrPWjZgpsiIly0AR5NTzr9KKVJ9fEreAH5KtjtJw/s1600/07+Grott+Entrance.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzU7JcMiYcXX65rHbj6Q2KUKlOF-PjsqTGxE6xUH9UnQlNvq0WC3EfAY5VrM77dE77AiNSy8bwUIPZxc_Be59EfhhNp_DTbwxhC8GfrPWjZgpsiIly0AR5NTzr9KKVJ9fEreAH5KtjtJw/s640/07+Grott+Entrance.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Turns out, the tiny row boats were everyone's destination. The entrance to the grotto (a sea cave) is a tiny hole in the cliff wall only accessible when the waves ebb out. Not the tide, the waves. The boat rowers have all their passengers lie down, then time their dash into the cave such that it happens during a trough and yank the whole shebang in using the chain on the side.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1V5BK_QiANxsOh_9hQVUDRI1h21j4SDT4VH8ZJ5hzmmIstHKxB8UloapVbHXbF0fOYqoG8d2lvZ1agk4yP6FdqbCAiA-sGaGsbt1kFwZz0XdoEZnrjnrBPq2ad-eHeqzU88WoEYeMi8E/s1600/08+Grotto.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1V5BK_QiANxsOh_9hQVUDRI1h21j4SDT4VH8ZJ5hzmmIstHKxB8UloapVbHXbF0fOYqoG8d2lvZ1agk4yP6FdqbCAiA-sGaGsbt1kFwZz0XdoEZnrjnrBPq2ad-eHeqzU88WoEYeMi8E/s640/08+Grotto.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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Inside, the cave is pitch black at first. Once your eyes adjust, however, you find that the sun slanting in through the entrance reflects off the limestone floor, illuminating the entire thing in a ghostly blue glow. This picture hints at how amazing it was, but it really does need to be experienced. I had been a bit wary of it as a pure tourist trap, but man is there a good reason that it's the main attraction on the island. Just stunning.<br />
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From there we headed to the second town on the island, Anacapri.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdpJHeM3hU1_DSMumLKg6gf_NmFjQIm2SmTMfoxjPHAZfe5i5uCvNa6Y66FsY1TYlT_1yKXLBKkWf4sJcuX_7YhfqzavgsR81xxWovvcfRG68E-qmsOkg2hND-2z-4QbK2r0h6NCAH9NU/s1600/09+Lift.JPG" imageanchor="1"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkHu_jMEWvpnm6Cgq0uAxHPSdHVUK_28myHFe949niHWN9_AVrOxXAbv01RPzx7SlCIgakdU0m_Moj-t3kHAfC8SzzhtvrTLFWBgwWZdYilFiuJUCnNdWMhqWJEk0yJEhAT_jMw3kYx8/s1600/09+Lift+Combined.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="406" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkHu_jMEWvpnm6Cgq0uAxHPSdHVUK_28myHFe949niHWN9_AVrOxXAbv01RPzx7SlCIgakdU0m_Moj-t3kHAfC8SzzhtvrTLFWBgwWZdYilFiuJUCnNdWMhqWJEk0yJEhAT_jMw3kYx8/s640/09+Lift+Combined.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Another big attraction on the island is taking a chair lift up to the highest point for scenic views. Mary did not look quite as relaxed as the lady in the painted tile mural, but as a lover of heights I thoroughly enjoyed the ride.<br />
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Going up lends not only a great view of both towns on the island (Capri and Anacapri), but also of the terraces that have been cut into the hill to allow for the planting of crops and gardens.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQx36Q7LaHuKQj0Cb4fqokCmVFsnjPQFWNIGywaf94X9q6LtLxRCWckSKuW4WXCl0ZivQWmwxIOwt7VuPg4BUAUdHxZuj_vH_h6MSuP0q-na6qKufR8jWX4W3rTGLmyB9kWWPWZaUhBQ/s1600/12+Mt+View.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOQx36Q7LaHuKQj0Cb4fqokCmVFsnjPQFWNIGywaf94X9q6LtLxRCWckSKuW4WXCl0ZivQWmwxIOwt7VuPg4BUAUdHxZuj_vH_h6MSuP0q-na6qKufR8jWX4W3rTGLmyB9kWWPWZaUhBQ/s640/12+Mt+View.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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The top of the mountain indeed did not disappoint. Here is a view over the bulk of the island. The buildings down below us are from the city of Capri, and the land off the point of the island is the mainland of Italy.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy6-uzZGw7bejmnwKfvdPLy46lmqZJ98XFf5CSyvszT4wqPoGxlgdwdwN2BzSmw04hN_dnUOv1cLQpQio-V22vNrVwhPkaKblOz1lMhdVNkXncS5-gKgPsZi__DcmLZ3pkwV9N1e_XM64/s1600/13+Villa+Combined.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy6-uzZGw7bejmnwKfvdPLy46lmqZJ98XFf5CSyvszT4wqPoGxlgdwdwN2BzSmw04hN_dnUOv1cLQpQio-V22vNrVwhPkaKblOz1lMhdVNkXncS5-gKgPsZi__DcmLZ3pkwV9N1e_XM64/s640/13+Villa+Combined.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Back down in Anacapri, we grabbed lunch (two caprese sandwiches, which are named after Capri itself) and then headed to a villa which is open to the public. I want a villa! I'd even open it to the public when I am at one of my other villas. Alas, for now I shall gawk at this one. <br />
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The interior of the house was actually fairly modest, because most of the living was done in open galleries, courtyards, and gardens. These outdoor spaces were amazing -- ornately decorated and immaculately kept. They really gave a sense of the glamour of pre-war time in Europe (if you had the money and power to be a part of it.)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQk7Ew4i5Xrr3df9UXK7zJaugqdv3PjBjmuW4e1GeF4ji2ii0LzabhgxNG94QS-9Pf-2Sx87xO2GLFo1g-ni9K79oVtR6ZO-gDEjCi7cKvOaWp9KRym0lftoXeWk_SHHGuiAEVTTPj2M/s1600/15+Villa.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNQk7Ew4i5Xrr3df9UXK7zJaugqdv3PjBjmuW4e1GeF4ji2ii0LzabhgxNG94QS-9Pf-2Sx87xO2GLFo1g-ni9K79oVtR6ZO-gDEjCi7cKvOaWp9KRym0lftoXeWk_SHHGuiAEVTTPj2M/s640/15+Villa.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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A ton of the pictures we took are views down over something lovely (often taken from somewhere lovely.) Here is a view of Capri and the port taken from a scenic outlook at the villa. <br />
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Our boat back to Sorrento departed from the marina pictured.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYL3Nittf5pKund8SYeKoI5Ue8l7oeJjw4l-zcqy5oqWMV2lI1fuscX1HFgjyyKria4iehlkZnLZufzF5-eyGYJ_j1VqE81l-mXQ03REZPo3WU08pjfH1QjqbQsTTLyYgf7nKko5qsLdQ/s1600/16+Floor.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYL3Nittf5pKund8SYeKoI5Ue8l7oeJjw4l-zcqy5oqWMV2lI1fuscX1HFgjyyKria4iehlkZnLZufzF5-eyGYJ_j1VqE81l-mXQ03REZPo3WU08pjfH1QjqbQsTTLyYgf7nKko5qsLdQ/s640/16+Floor.JPG" width="640" /></a><br />
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The final sight on Capri was a church whose entire floor is covered in a painted tile mural depicting the expulsion of Adam and Eve from the garden of Eden. This painted tile is actually Spanish in origin, but based on what we've seen is common around the Mediterranean. It's certainly a bit more busy than I'd like in my bathroom, but it's quite stunning to see it in this setting. <br />
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I encourage all readers to click on the image and get a load of the sheer approximate-ness of the elephant, which was clearly painted from a description in a book. It really is a sight.<br />
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Up next: Onward to Amalfi.StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-56965087366092363732015-01-11T10:58:00.001-06:002015-01-11T10:58:23.663-06:00Chicken Souk for the SoulLondon is not a great place to spend Christmas if you have no family in the area. The city shuts down in a way that is hard to comprehend. All shops close. All movie theaters close. No trains run. No buses run. Going out on the street is downright eerie.<br><br>
When we decided not to go to America for Christmas this year for logistical reasons, the next immediate question was "If not America, then where?" We applied a system that a cow orker of Mary's uses (visit Muslim countries during Christian holidays) and came up with Marrakesh.<br><br>
<table border=0><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4F63mQuNS7gOZTufs-CP6dlA2p1-r4JiHUuC4C52ayErod6VsX97L-uyzUmaF8c3ieYm4eikD9haqj-qaOQAp4jSBFVcKAJJq18wVZnLhq_HP1PHikU8__gwBmmKZhjfTMM9DdZoEV0A/s1600/01+Traffic.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4F63mQuNS7gOZTufs-CP6dlA2p1-r4JiHUuC4C52ayErod6VsX97L-uyzUmaF8c3ieYm4eikD9haqj-qaOQAp4jSBFVcKAJJq18wVZnLhq_HP1PHikU8__gwBmmKZhjfTMM9DdZoEV0A/s400/01+Traffic.JPG" /></a></div>When the French colonized the city, they actually made a conscious decision to leave the old town alone and to build outside its walls; because of this, it's divided into an old town (Medina) and new town. We spent almost all of our time in the Medina.<br><br>
Our hotel was towards the northernmost part of the Medina, with the main square Jemaa el Fna about two-thirds of the way south in the Medina. Between us lay the souks.<br><br>
This scene is from a square almost at the southern tip of the Medina, and gives a sense of the very slightly organized chaos that was traffic. Streets were a mix of pedestrians, mopeds, men and donkeys pushing and pulling carts, and -- where allowed -- cars and horse-drawn carriages.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfkB8OO7DP-DCuG8QXJmrpm7TzlNeHn5R8djpVAGWxeQny2-D7zZF97uMA7BZSMYf27AUKCclwHMojp_5wJAnzT9Mb6Stc5Db5qK2Rl2rCdo1IyUbtPgBmhCHvWi41d81t2ZG8fECT6IU/s1600/02+Riad.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfkB8OO7DP-DCuG8QXJmrpm7TzlNeHn5R8djpVAGWxeQny2-D7zZF97uMA7BZSMYf27AUKCclwHMojp_5wJAnzT9Mb6Stc5Db5qK2Rl2rCdo1IyUbtPgBmhCHvWi41d81t2ZG8fECT6IU/s400/02+Riad.JPG" /></a></div>Our hotel, thankfully, was a respite from the anarchy.<br><br>
We stayed in a Riad, which is basically a bed and breakfast in a converted townhouse. Traditional homes in Marrakesh (and I believe all of Morocco) are built with a series of rooms all opening on to an open-air central courtyard. Traditionally the courtyard and some of the rooms off it would serve as the living/family/dining room.<br><br>
Our Riad had three guest rooms, though each was large enough to accommodate a family of four (and the other two were doing so.) We had breakfast in the courtyard every day and had dinner there once as well. At night it dipped down into the 50s, so they had a few heat lamps to make things more cozy.<br><br>
Because all Riads had been family homes, they tend to be down tiny winding alleys. This was true of ours as well, and I will admit that when we first arrived form the airport it was a bit disconcerting. Our cab stopped randomly on the street, at a point at which cars can not progress past. We were met by someone else, who lead us down ever narrowing and darkening alleys, at one point picking up a random group we passed who were lost and looking for a specific address.<br><br>
Thankfully, the place itself was lovely and the path to it not hard to follow once you had done it a time or two.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieaglAo-FuR3F-y9-7-iWMT_7DhJQMwLhLu3LKvRAOgyMEvF8iJRrebPzAZXVO4I9vjB7q_FaFQw4Saw12pX8Gz2Z-Wm8OezIyy3eBCfxa3_dfkVtXCr5v3G7IZp4ccJvRolURf7Q6P2c/s1600/03+Souk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieaglAo-FuR3F-y9-7-iWMT_7DhJQMwLhLu3LKvRAOgyMEvF8iJRrebPzAZXVO4I9vjB7q_FaFQw4Saw12pX8Gz2Z-Wm8OezIyy3eBCfxa3_dfkVtXCr5v3G7IZp4ccJvRolURf7Q6P2c/s400/03+Souk.JPG" /></a></div>Between the Riad and the main square stretched the souks. These are market stalls selling pretty much everything you can imagine. Many of them are aimed at the tourists, but we also saw some for general sundries and a whole section for selling live poultry. They are somewhat organized by what they sell, and we knew we were getting close to home when we started passing by the butchers.<br><br>
There is a huge culture of haggling in Morocco, and walking through the souks could feel like reading through your spam folder: Everyone is trying his best to grab your attention and get you to buy their thing, and they are not always 100% honest about it. Early on we got a bit lost due to following some dubious directions, but once we knew our way and happily ignored the calls of "wrong way! wrong way! big square this way." we had very few issues.<br><br>
In the end we skipped the hassle of haggling and bought our souvenirs in one of the state-run fixed-price shops. Between being amateurs at haggling and not knowing Arabic or French, we just didn't want to deal with the hassle. Based on what we read about the mark up at the state-run stores, we probably ended up paying less than if we had tried haggling anyway.<br><br>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HgUv4CDhGn3aw9UjpD54QrFEHVmOasXDH8ScC5sH8ZZYAJWC0KkUTX_nr2To9Op10N9W-bEWhlWPByLrd5zJAm2HbZC_qo8AhSmnvCqcU5_ZbQZWhQyat7zD007zgKgkRI8XUdCLWVU/s1600/04+Jma+el+Fna+Day.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1HgUv4CDhGn3aw9UjpD54QrFEHVmOasXDH8ScC5sH8ZZYAJWC0KkUTX_nr2To9Op10N9W-bEWhlWPByLrd5zJAm2HbZC_qo8AhSmnvCqcU5_ZbQZWhQyat7zD007zgKgkRI8XUdCLWVU/s640/04+Jma+el+Fna+Day.JPG" /></a>
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<tr><td>The main square in the Medina is Jamaa el Fna. This panarama was taken in the morning when things are pretty quiet, but the square does ramp up through the day and there is always something going on.
<br><br> It's probably the largest plaza that we've seen in our travels, sprawling over several normal-sized city blocks. It's surrounded by cafes and hotels and covered in various stands and hucksters. There is a group of orange juice carts that we never saw closed, and in the evening vendors wheel in food carts that set up tents and seating ares to serve food until late at night.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihli1XRIr451zMEcdd5u10vnMJ5y6ngjozp3hia_LX3cfW76PljCSlhhLv0WHxhyphenhyphen_pX-hCTd_pNpaqQq4p8z45Cl9eaMEiCpJReKthAvTiCJymqTNpSZq5hyphenhyphenEugrgy2AHgM5Ba6S9cPJA/s1600/05+Jmaa+el+Fna+Night.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihli1XRIr451zMEcdd5u10vnMJ5y6ngjozp3hia_LX3cfW76PljCSlhhLv0WHxhyphenhyphen_pX-hCTd_pNpaqQq4p8z45Cl9eaMEiCpJReKthAvTiCJymqTNpSZq5hyphenhyphenEugrgy2AHgM5Ba6S9cPJA/s400/05+Jmaa+el+Fna+Night.JPG" /></a></div>As the afternoon wears into evening, the square starts filling up. People pack the benches of the food stands. The snake charmers clear out and storytellers and singers take their places. Everywhere is a spectacle of some form. It's a pretty amazing experience to walk through the crowds of people, checking out what each clump is watching or listening to and taking in the madness yourself.<br><br>
We had dinner in the Jamaa el Fna twice, and both times the food was simple but very good. We got skewers of grilled meat along with the ubiquitous local flatbread and various salads of fresh and grilled vegetables. We also hit a pastry cart for a mix of cookies for dessert and found a few delightful honey-based ones that I want to track down online.<br><br>
In the background, you can see the minaret of...<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEzkqA1NIAqEQK5JJBC7ehvnXt3QA8zcnVwwjbUWuV19aljRIJ0q0RUdz6EggrvkXavWQ48dmG3wrZJdL6BlpfnHehtPNzmq1ZQjeoqycuQI9_JcC8BAA5ZHjKu8tCZ2BXhO4vghD0icc/s1600/06+Koutoubia+Minaret.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEzkqA1NIAqEQK5JJBC7ehvnXt3QA8zcnVwwjbUWuV19aljRIJ0q0RUdz6EggrvkXavWQ48dmG3wrZJdL6BlpfnHehtPNzmq1ZQjeoqycuQI9_JcC8BAA5ZHjKu8tCZ2BXhO4vghD0icc/s400/06+Koutoubia+Minaret.JPG" /></a></div>...the Koutoubia Mosque. Traditionally these mosque towers were used to call the faithful to prayer throughout the day. The Muezzin now use loudspeakers to avoid the climb, but thankfully the towers remain.<br><br>
This tower is actually the twin of the one we climbed in Seville, though because Mosques are only open to Muslims we were not able to climb it to get shots from above. It's quite odd for me to not sort through dozens of skyline shots looking for the perfect one, but alas.<br><br>
Each neighborhood in town has its own mosque, and hearing the calls to prayer coming from across the city is quite beautiful. I find the call quite mournful, and to hear it rising and falling from the various mosques, slightly out of sync, made it sound like sad songbirds calling to each other and responding. Beautiful and haunting.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcoRFsmDN3IBbdJZDhoNKoL0pE9feZSJk-Zg1DGQ8V9mWjit1eAgzPURk_ov3-LMAYPuJEivjUoeqOgec48MhbBLEsys-XN7_EfF8LULmzdOhFPwS-F1iTjIRIPW76jhR9oDy2uknOVN4/s1600/07+Tile+-+Madersa.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcoRFsmDN3IBbdJZDhoNKoL0pE9feZSJk-Zg1DGQ8V9mWjit1eAgzPURk_ov3-LMAYPuJEivjUoeqOgec48MhbBLEsys-XN7_EfF8LULmzdOhFPwS-F1iTjIRIPW76jhR9oDy2uknOVN4/s400/07+Tile+-+Madersa.JPG" /></a></div>While we could not enter the mosques, we <i>could</i> enter the Ben Youssef Madrasa. This was a site where students would come to study the Koran, and it remains open today as a historical site.<br><br>
The student's rooms are quite dark and plain, but the central courtyard and prayer hall are elaborately carved, tiled, and plastered. This type of over the top geometry is central to Islamic art, and I love it. Despite visiting many sites decorated in this style, it just never gets old to me. The patterns are intricate and interesting on their own, and mesmerizing when taken in en masse like this.<br><br>
Every time we visit a site with any Islamic or Moorish art, my doodles get much more interesting.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpYqgSDXhzm9ekBUGO8gd-xxxeNCi5KetYZTw3BI-u1De23bEoibhSZ_MEz9SXgtGmTyoSztbA9cB5WfQZLfwnGL4R9WK63PVjx5RjFHoQuf1mFkxXPg7sDgxfGAcc_hQcDNRFAY9rMWM/s1600/08+Badi+Palace.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpYqgSDXhzm9ekBUGO8gd-xxxeNCi5KetYZTw3BI-u1De23bEoibhSZ_MEz9SXgtGmTyoSztbA9cB5WfQZLfwnGL4R9WK63PVjx5RjFHoQuf1mFkxXPg7sDgxfGAcc_hQcDNRFAY9rMWM/s400/08+Badi+Palace.JPG" /></a></div>Lest all this majesty seem too permanent, we visited El Badi Palace. This was a huge palace built by rulers in 16th century which is now home to many feral cats and storks. About a hundred years after its completion, a new ruling family came in and stripped it of all its finery to create another palace elsewhere.<br><br>
The giant shell still stands, and while the decorative tile and carvings are long gone, the sheer scale of the thing is amazing. To me it was reminiscent of some of the castles we had seen in Scotland, which were tiny cities unto themselves.<br><br>
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglu3rMzl5lWC2RLBMLHv21O-DcySeuUxM30ggaC-c5HSGztb6yNJqR-SekksU5x878g5jKHTB-vem0j9oBG6jKsmYJeEPKsxgsbX1XzLHWYS8wHx1eHqR3kV6B6NwcyVYeAJJbEeuYL3o/s1600/09+Museum+of+Marakech+(Pano).JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglu3rMzl5lWC2RLBMLHv21O-DcySeuUxM30ggaC-c5HSGztb6yNJqR-SekksU5x878g5jKHTB-vem0j9oBG6jKsmYJeEPKsxgsbX1XzLHWYS8wHx1eHqR3kV6B6NwcyVYeAJJbEeuYL3o/s640/09+Museum+of+Marakech+(Pano).JPG" /></a>
<br><br>
<tr><td>Back in the world of elaborate carving and tilework, we visited the Museum of Marrakesh.<br><br>
This museum focuses on the arts and crafts of Morocco, and describes the regional differences in those crafts. In French. Even without knowing the language though, we could appreciate this former palace for its aesthetic beauty. Also, it was a great chance to make Mary roll her eyes at me taking a panarama, so...win/win.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKj0n6fTM59Q-8omd69yOUIF5QbZComtPd6yYRFG4SYuVTk_WefnDUBMjS0dGz-jf_6QI_BmVMrTPZlfifKmruth99IJcLJ_WqBivNXWu_1Gn0Ui2CpB7rRAB7ZWNTDQ_4aquXJQT8Lo/s1600/10+Park.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjKj0n6fTM59Q-8omd69yOUIF5QbZComtPd6yYRFG4SYuVTk_WefnDUBMjS0dGz-jf_6QI_BmVMrTPZlfifKmruth99IJcLJ_WqBivNXWu_1Gn0Ui2CpB7rRAB7ZWNTDQ_4aquXJQT8Lo/s400/10+Park.JPG" /></a></div>While it's on the edge of the Sahara desert, Marrakesh itself is an oasis. Literally! It's built atop natural springs which feed not only its water supply, but also its many gardens.<br><br>
Even in December, we found things in full leaf and in many cases covered in fruit or flowers. We visited a few of the gardens, and they are quite ordered and calm. This shot is from the "Cyber Park", which was originally built in the 18th century. Recently, the local telecom company installed wireless in the entire area, making it very popular with youths. Despite the kiosks for web browsing, it was still a lovely and lush getaway from all the hubbub.<br><br>
We also strolled the lanes of the gardens behind the Koutoubia mosque and even peeked into some around the royal palace where the current king lives. All were lovely.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiRkGrAlCHOiv8aqpeHZCFyUSbarjxqzfER4VP0daHqPYN3cEEEjhyyPjcKVOAuniO0lWIMCM6gvOzCQAY6DCP2mQhztahOoKVlJN6kkne2SMDiiOGS5trxc08qLd_yfaXOvHJjju0rs/s1600/11+Demo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiRkGrAlCHOiv8aqpeHZCFyUSbarjxqzfER4VP0daHqPYN3cEEEjhyyPjcKVOAuniO0lWIMCM6gvOzCQAY6DCP2mQhztahOoKVlJN6kkne2SMDiiOGS5trxc08qLd_yfaXOvHJjju0rs/s400/11+Demo.JPG" /></a></div>Overall, we had a fantastic trip.<br><br>
The food was great, the people were lovely (if a bit pushy on the selling), and the sights amazing. <br><br>
As expected, it was by far the most foreign feeling place that we've visited. Whether getting passed by a donkey cart, walking down a street with shop fronts full of men working leather into goods, or looking at the outside of a building and realizing that it used to be the inside of a building (a surprisingly common sight) we were constantly surprised and taken out of our element.<br><br>
It's probably not a good destination less experienced travelers, but man did we have a blast.
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StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-66598395531801092202015-01-01T08:07:00.000-06:002015-01-01T08:07:49.415-06:00Marketing ChristmasGermany takes Christmas seriously; Towns not only have multiple Christmas trees, but also have multiple Christmas markets. We wanted to experience this particular holiday madness, so we headed to Cologne for a long weekend.<br><br>
<table border = 0><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix6V38YPazmKuvjmju-lhdsAjmummhMufEy_jQa6z3fXsISKkEFnxVPt4R_K5iv2wFxU5UKt85LJ-depL9NtDZVlN3UXnEQ39FHx1lptrQG7PEk-louU15Kh9XrlYNmh9GULSRhT39ETk/s1600/01+dom+and+museum+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix6V38YPazmKuvjmju-lhdsAjmummhMufEy_jQa6z3fXsISKkEFnxVPt4R_K5iv2wFxU5UKt85LJ-depL9NtDZVlN3UXnEQ39FHx1lptrQG7PEk-louU15Kh9XrlYNmh9GULSRhT39ETk/s400/01+dom+and+museum+2.JPG" /></a></div>
As we've noticed in previous visits to Germany, there is a wide mix of new and old due to bombing during World War Two. Most of Cologne is more modern architecture like the museum in the foreground of this shot, with a few older buildings (like the Cathedral) sprinkled in.<br><br>
While we do like the cutesy older parts of town, I also quite like the blending of newer, older, and newer-but-made-to-look-older that we encountered.
<br><br><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrU7-xsvlLIq3QmdqJA9l5_xy1gt8achjTaOJM_cbF8zzklBZUoHIMhB1Ip2AI9godvQTdtUqwSOtIjuX4IBGrW68KXKK38ZEwAJKxTh0GnpYBhgallN6INyiMNCjQV6epE3U5XIoJBk/s1600/02+dom+mark+above.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNrU7-xsvlLIq3QmdqJA9l5_xy1gt8achjTaOJM_cbF8zzklBZUoHIMhB1Ip2AI9godvQTdtUqwSOtIjuX4IBGrW68KXKK38ZEwAJKxTh0GnpYBhgallN6INyiMNCjQV6epE3U5XIoJBk/s400/02+dom+mark+above.JPG" /></a></div>We climbed the Cathedral tower (as we do) and had a great view down over the modern city.<br><br>
We also got an areal view of this market, which snuggles up next to the Cathedral and is one of the larger ones in town. From above it appears to have a semblance of order, but when you're in it it's a total maze.
<br><br><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR-IFKqOVOHEpDwJEkP_2rtm_LMAUjrZu5mTDbAjw00eiJT98nqpCQhJ-a4LXTwyhJH7Iy91RrNXaKkClvfjEnMNRB12I22elgb6plR8wGsHx0C5h08x_nVVumERhoXlq-WUbq9yTvq8Q/s1600/03+christmas+tree+skirt.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR-IFKqOVOHEpDwJEkP_2rtm_LMAUjrZu5mTDbAjw00eiJT98nqpCQhJ-a4LXTwyhJH7Iy91RrNXaKkClvfjEnMNRB12I22elgb6plR8wGsHx0C5h08x_nVVumERhoXlq-WUbq9yTvq8Q/s400/03+christmas+tree+skirt.JPG" /></a></div>And here is that market at night. The tree is giant and has a wide skirt of lights that is lit at night and covers the center of the market. It's a bit hard to make out the crowd in this picture, but it's jam-packed with people.<br><br>
The sun sets pretty early in the winter so by 5:00 pm it was feeling quite late. That didn't stop huge crowds from showing up for hot spiced wine and fried foods. <br><br>Other than breakfast, all of our meals came from food stands in the markets, and it was fantastic.
<br><br><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimtuOggl4cZRhHgiyrj5p6Lia2qhPDscAqtYZAg579IxuCleovJAEDyX7ueZRzGn8Nyno98VnG2i3nuhh-BAPpBJAQ-vZUr9Rb0fUhiwoCeMHIW1teWf5FESp-U-Ubn5hZTWPBWu-HyHM/s1600/05+alt+markt+entrance+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimtuOggl4cZRhHgiyrj5p6Lia2qhPDscAqtYZAg579IxuCleovJAEDyX7ueZRzGn8Nyno98VnG2i3nuhh-BAPpBJAQ-vZUr9Rb0fUhiwoCeMHIW1teWf5FESp-U-Ubn5hZTWPBWu-HyHM/s400/05+alt+markt+entrance+1.JPG" /></a></div>The next major market was in the old town. It stretched along the length of this part of the city and was a block wide and a dozen blocks long.<br><br>
The markets are full of stalls that sell various Christmas and non-Christmas related trinkets. We picked up a bunch of ornaments and small decorations, and had a nice time of it.
<br><br><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ByP7csgE82qlnzYsilIhJwJDD8xBVRpKFKsdSNmGyQwS2DwAhOusy7OcCWEVBkI4yZZZpeTXkc488KQGmNhgPonxuup43Qd_TLAeGaU5WARf-UgEAwNDJ1taTB4vl5vmknJEDzfbPcA/s1600/06+Log+Nativity.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7ByP7csgE82qlnzYsilIhJwJDD8xBVRpKFKsdSNmGyQwS2DwAhOusy7OcCWEVBkI4yZZZpeTXkc488KQGmNhgPonxuup43Qd_TLAeGaU5WARf-UgEAwNDJ1taTB4vl5vmknJEDzfbPcA/s400/06+Log+Nativity.JPG" /></a></div>Each market also had a nativity scene, which we naturally were comparing and contrasting. The old city market had our favorite: The entire scene carved out of logs and tree trunks.
<br><br><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU2_xR_xSaOeahWwiYq_0Jt0M_pp8U2eDGxo-vYK3hyphenhyphenvfUEkzgU4CYfUWa9aFAA1XMSd6d8g-H4DfhN1egYjsLo2PfzBkhJ5Go0Gtowvto1zu5pRcEQleQaaeLL-DmJkJCGY64a-1d44Y/s1600/07+Gnome.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU2_xR_xSaOeahWwiYq_0Jt0M_pp8U2eDGxo-vYK3hyphenhyphenvfUEkzgU4CYfUWa9aFAA1XMSd6d8g-H4DfhN1egYjsLo2PfzBkhJ5Go0Gtowvto1zu5pRcEQleQaaeLL-DmJkJCGY64a-1d44Y/s400/07+Gnome.jpg" /></a></div>The old city market also had a gnome theme going. These fellas showed up on signs for booths, signs pointing to areas with specific types of vendors, even signs pointing to the toilets. It turned into a bit of a Where's Waldo thing, trying to spy all the ways the little fellas were used.
<br><br><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4dYQjBDSJL-axsJqUVWmVnApVCmPXhcbV0L3F9pwrfZIOiy6DevI40QolO1czCPCY-FQQXg_265KGQf8L9SX0MsnFaHYXxfzjCwTNsJC8EF4zzJW_X_7jGCG1MkyD2m7c2Om0UAYXihQ/s1600/08+stars+at+market.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4dYQjBDSJL-axsJqUVWmVnApVCmPXhcbV0L3F9pwrfZIOiy6DevI40QolO1czCPCY-FQQXg_265KGQf8L9SX0MsnFaHYXxfzjCwTNsJC8EF4zzJW_X_7jGCG1MkyD2m7c2Om0UAYXihQ/s400/08+stars+at+market.JPG" /></a></div>The third large market we went to was the angel market. <br><br>It had a starry night theme, and they strung the trees with star-shaped lanterns. The decorations were pretty cool, and hanging out there in the evening and night was neat.<br><br>
This picture gives a sense of the crowds that we encountered. It was high season for the markets, so things were packed well into the night. Thankfully earlier in the day things were a bit quieter so we were not constantly assaulted.
<br><br><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwexQnREHv4ZyX_ywlmo3yGwvD1LyYJ_wHBlYhl_NIYdScbamO9dkqLwZ4-6e0Ro2DkCuTT8OyayWv8-0K2UAsdomqRK5Lphu7LCEtAC-dxXwHVxPOF2w9Jq71HWabsw6CED1t_xOyOGQ/s1600/099+box+art.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwexQnREHv4ZyX_ywlmo3yGwvD1LyYJ_wHBlYhl_NIYdScbamO9dkqLwZ4-6e0Ro2DkCuTT8OyayWv8-0K2UAsdomqRK5Lphu7LCEtAC-dxXwHVxPOF2w9Jq71HWabsw6CED1t_xOyOGQ/s400/099+box+art.JPG" /></a></div>We didn't just wander the markets on the trip, we also visited a few museums.<br><br>
Mary indulged me and we paid a visit to the modern art museum. They were having a display on pop art, which included these boxes on the wall.<br><br>
Mary and I got into quite the discussion about whether this qualifies as art at all, which to me is a marker of art. Mary remains unconvinced. <br><br>Regardless of the art-i-ness of the boxes, we both quite enjoyed the museum.<br><br>
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Overall we had a great time in Cologne and enjoyed both the markets and city. We will definitely do another market trip next year around the same time, though we may branch out on the town. We hear Nurnberg is nice...StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-54422447731942572562014-12-15T14:17:00.001-06:002014-12-15T14:17:05.533-06:00Irish Springs (Come From Irish Rain)Ireland! It's a quarter of my heritage and half of Mary's, but we've made it almost two years in without a visit. The time had come to change that.<br><br>
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<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD6jfmn9JBnEsC4LxzTxaS4YDIN1ybQbcMGOaoMGGtLgevI9BQ5R1aB8iVNdciTe9z37DaDv2RKoUPR_HtnYAeNwAVhVb8wTXOhjd0pCU9LpMeHxYPDynMG7XXZM9e-ffF8lkl9EwAgyk/s1600/01+castle+and+rain.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD6jfmn9JBnEsC4LxzTxaS4YDIN1ybQbcMGOaoMGGtLgevI9BQ5R1aB8iVNdciTe9z37DaDv2RKoUPR_HtnYAeNwAVhVb8wTXOhjd0pCU9LpMeHxYPDynMG7XXZM9e-ffF8lkl9EwAgyk/s400/01+castle+and+rain.JPG" /></a></div>Considering that it was Ireland in November, we had pretty decent weather. Mornings were consistently rainy, but the evenings cleared up and even brought some sunshine.<br><br>
Since we had geared for it, the rain wasn't much of a challenge and we still had a fun and full journey. It did impact picture quality a bit, as grey-sky shots tend to come off a bit dour. It allowed me to get all artsy-fartsy with things reflected in puddles though, so at least we have that.
<br><br><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis9dPVo1FD5-GfuONj4AfELVT49kQAeVhUehqzSVlZcztkuIa0Uc1PaxzP93LnETwifhq9xZ7mHN_G9xGcfuJ7IhupKvPj3Ov6kjK6rEjsejxa89COf-l8GM1anzDt8bToGAcKTBq_lLU/s1600/02+Kilkenny+Castle+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis9dPVo1FD5-GfuONj4AfELVT49kQAeVhUehqzSVlZcztkuIa0Uc1PaxzP93LnETwifhq9xZ7mHN_G9xGcfuJ7IhupKvPj3Ov6kjK6rEjsejxa89COf-l8GM1anzDt8bToGAcKTBq_lLU/s400/02+Kilkenny+Castle+2.JPG" /></a></div>While we were based in Dublin, we spent most of our time elsewhere. The first day was all about Kilkenny. <br><br>
Kilkenny is known for their castle and their beer brewery, both of which we visited.<br><br>
As with most castles, theirs started small several hundreds of years ago and then grew and changed over time. Some rooms were done up with replicas of Victorian furnishings, which was roughly the last time it was occupied. Unlike many castles, this one is owned by the town thanks to the former owners recognizing that they could not afford to restore it and selling it for fifty pounds.<br><br>
In the castle we got to see the second-longest room in Ireland, which was fun for us since we love qualified extremes.<br><br>
The brewery tour ended up being a bit cheesy and touristy, with Disney-style animatronics and videos. We had hoped this would be a bit more process-focused like the scotch tour we did in Scotland, but twas not to be. If you ignored the cheesey bits there was some neat history though, so we did manage to have a good time. Good beer, too.
<br><br><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5EoRk80L5c3-A_5DGioDa2wzfRiNtYgkddGB07QNNpi9JjS2_SPDQxhBpdSroPCgj_h84vKtxxl6Y6irDSzV8vVxEiKZr-jqYLy-YR6cnOEyHe_MlAzv7Wi1virXuSu4aX6Ydz-u2rMk/s1600/04+howth+trail+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5EoRk80L5c3-A_5DGioDa2wzfRiNtYgkddGB07QNNpi9JjS2_SPDQxhBpdSroPCgj_h84vKtxxl6Y6irDSzV8vVxEiKZr-jqYLy-YR6cnOEyHe_MlAzv7Wi1virXuSu4aX6Ydz-u2rMk/s400/04+howth+trail+2.JPG" /></a></div>Our second day was spent in Howth. This is a small town on a peninsula sticking into the Irish Sea North of Dublin. And when I say small, I mean it had roughly two streets, stretched along the coast by the busy harbor.<br><br>
For tourists there are two sites: The rocky coastal hiking path and the radio museum.<br><br>
The museum was supposed to be closed due to it being off-season, so we headed for the trail. The coast here is very rocky and blustery, and it was amazingly beautiful. Probably a quarter of the photos we took were from the few hours we were on this walk, because it was just so striking. The rocky coasts, views back of the tiny town, and crashing surf on rocks really spoke to us.
<br><br><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsGWrLSSBNC9AVY7yLg0gSE4-ZGvdnWWxxsDzIcdwqqPrPd19xhOhp8wye1tDQWKUVlzrnVWXW6q2otLh7dGfqs1vJgFwhPI0wFiFy24XOzeRlXCQ3BC5WLNrhzx7T9TUZ_sIH3ZwcOE/s1600/041+howth+town.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMsGWrLSSBNC9AVY7yLg0gSE4-ZGvdnWWxxsDzIcdwqqPrPd19xhOhp8wye1tDQWKUVlzrnVWXW6q2otLh7dGfqs1vJgFwhPI0wFiFy24XOzeRlXCQ3BC5WLNrhzx7T9TUZ_sIH3ZwcOE/s400/041+howth+town.JPG" /></a></div>Back in town, we made a glorious discovery. It was Science Week in Ireland! This meant that not only was the Radio Museum open, but the admission charge was waived. This is the kind of tiny, hyper-focused museum that Mary and I love (see also: Pencil Museum, Canal Museum, the Postcard Museum Betrayal.)<br><br>
The museum is located in an old tower on a cliff above the town, which was built to fend off a Napoleanic invasion that never came. It consists of two rooms stacked floor to ceiling with radios of every shape and form. We saw some built into small picture frames to hide from occupying armies, elaborate fancy ones, and plain-old work-a-day models from basically the entire history of the device.<br><br>
It was exactly what we wanted from this kind of museum, and we were so very lucky to have had it open.
<br><br><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXqemk6RW4oY0qFwHrdoRni_adiOkM0Yl5d7ewCLuF4IMaiHFYHdXzGtXOnYcABo21YSI4bb_eRPfSemOH66YBcAvQbOi3ezPGtSWIbK-vhALBnLKu5H-0EG-EqRShgcPvTTX3eIQYLiA/s1600/05+bog+mummy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXqemk6RW4oY0qFwHrdoRni_adiOkM0Yl5d7ewCLuF4IMaiHFYHdXzGtXOnYcABo21YSI4bb_eRPfSemOH66YBcAvQbOi3ezPGtSWIbK-vhALBnLKu5H-0EG-EqRShgcPvTTX3eIQYLiA/s400/05+bog+mummy.JPG" /></a></div>On the final day, we spent some time in Dublin proper. We visited the museum of archeology, the highlight of which was of course the bog mummies. We've both heard of and been fascinated by these, so to see them in person (they had four on display) was pretty amazing. What gets preserved (hair, leather) is astounding. Very neat.
<br><br><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUXi4SJ9zwRnx69w2TrnYiUklmfw6nRZOF6kHq-16RgdQkmBr2DzmutPlw01gAOyX-v6UwHwuS1CQa7iZ7DSkI-LykR-DLP8hQfnw1ILbfYHSdxfRgU0TGOKAzjk1LzcCdZ5oY9ImyKo/s1600/06+long+hall.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUXi4SJ9zwRnx69w2TrnYiUklmfw6nRZOF6kHq-16RgdQkmBr2DzmutPlw01gAOyX-v6UwHwuS1CQa7iZ7DSkI-LykR-DLP8hQfnw1ILbfYHSdxfRgU0TGOKAzjk1LzcCdZ5oY9ImyKo/s400/06+long+hall.JPG" /></a></div>The other main site we visited in Dublin was Trinity College. Shown here is The Long Room, which is the first-longest room in Ireland. It's the library, but the real highlight was the display on The Book of Kells.<br><br>
The Book of Kells is an illustrated manuscript from around 800 AD. That's a long time ago. The book is at the end of a very well laid-out exhibit, which really goes into detail on how the book was made as well as the significance of its iconography. It was a fantastic visit, and I strongly urge anyone in town to check it out. Sadly, no photos are allowed.
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Overall, we had a great time on the trip. The sites were cool, the scenery amazing, and the food well above what we expected. Toss on those wellies and mackintosh, bust our your brolly, and head to Ireland!StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-48118580352234459492014-11-23T12:41:00.000-06:002014-11-23T12:41:54.079-06:00Czeching Into the Xander Zone<table border=0><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhnVguxlJTFVj6oGVjkDqFnyhAJ0d1MVMoqKDF2c6Ndt3qdOgaP0SW2tF3Zf04RSgQHAmAR9mePfiqQG5dRUdOVaEpyoPh2g2zEVVH8vAY7ewPGoxCv-h_WR4OOSRguA8DfhO_LJiNxfI/s1600/01+Overview.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhnVguxlJTFVj6oGVjkDqFnyhAJ0d1MVMoqKDF2c6Ndt3qdOgaP0SW2tF3Zf04RSgQHAmAR9mePfiqQG5dRUdOVaEpyoPh2g2zEVVH8vAY7ewPGoxCv-h_WR4OOSRguA8DfhO_LJiNxfI/s320/01+Overview.JPG" /></a></div>
After many travels around Europe, we finally pulled the trigger on Prague. We've been wanting to visit this historic city, as everyone we know who has been there has loved it. Turns out we love it too. We even ended up with mostly great weather, despite traveling a bit past the shoulder season.
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Prague is the rare city in Europe that was not heavily damaged during World War II. Because all of its industry was well outside of town, very little bombing happened near the city center.
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Even the Jewish quarter with its ancient cemetery remained, though for a chilling reason -- Hitler planned to use them for his Museum to the Extinct Jewish People. Because of this, he kept not only the structures intact but also the the artifacts within them.<br><br>
The cemetery is a maze of tumbledown headstones packed in tighter than seems possible. It's quite the sight to see, though the flood of tourists can lesson the impact a bit (says a tourist.)
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We toured a few memorial sites in the Jewish distrct, as well as this building near the cemetery which documents Jewish burial rites.<br><br>
It was informative to see a Jewish Quarter so intact, even if the history of why it's that way is dark.
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Turning to brighter things, this is the astronomical clock on the old town hall. After reading the instructions in our guidebook on how to read it, I can honestly say I still have no idea what it says. There are dials for date and season, for the sunrise and set, for the time in multiple formats, and even to tell you who the saint of the day is. Convenient! Now if only I could read it.<br><br>
Every hour, the bells chime and a series of apostles parades by two open windows.
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And here they are! We toured the city hall and climbed the tower, so we actually got the see the hour chime from inside. Mary was dismayed to discover that the apostles had no legs (only the torsos are visible to the viewers below) but I found it rather delightful.
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From the tower you could really get a sense of how attractive the old city is. The buildings are a mix of gothic, baroque, and art neuveau.
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It's quite a pleasure to just walk the streets, since you are almost guaranteed to come across elaborately decorated facades, often in bright contrasting colors.
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Meanwhile, beneath the city...old Roman roads! In ancient times, the city was prone to frequent flooding from the river that runs through it. To solve this, they raised the entire town, burying the much older Roman city below thirty feet of earth.<br><br>
Many of the buildings in the oldest part of town were built atop the old ones and still use the old houses as cellars. In some cases even sections of the old Roman road were covered and kept as well. Neat!
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Another major site in town is the Charles Bridge. This (now) pedestrian crossing serves as one of the busiest public squares in town, with tourists and craftspeople selling their wares jammed together.<br><br>
The bridge connects the town with the castle, and serves as a lovely vantage point at all hours of the day. <br><br>
It <i>also</i> served as the setting for the finale of the landmark of cinema Triple X, which I noticed without prompting from any guidebooks. I resisted the urge to photoshop in a solar-powered submarine, though we did have to watch it when we got home. Brilliant as always.
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Rather than being one building, the castle is actually a complex of them perched on a hill across the river from town. This includes government buildings in old palaces, several beautiful churches, and striking views of the old town. <br><br>
It's a bit of a hike up to it, but well worth it.
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While much of the joy of Prague is from simply wandering its streets, we did see some sites as well. One interesting one was the Museum of Communism.<br><br>
Here they tracked the rise of communism, daily life during it's reign, and it's eventual fall. The Czech Republic (then Czechoslovakia) was under communist rule from the end of World War II until the late 80s and from the interesting and well laid out displays, it didn't seem like much fun.<br><br>
Visiting the museum made me realize how little I really know about the history of communism and socialism in Europe.
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Another site was the Mucha Museum, and this window in the main cathedral by Mucha. He was a Bohemian-born artist who championed the Art Neuveau movement and mostly worked on large posters.<br><br>
We recognized his posters from various other places, but seeing his work presented and interpreted in the museum was very cool. It was also awesome to see many of his stylistic touches (spirals, framing of figures, striking color and line work) on display in the stained glass format.
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Overall Prague was a great city, and a great trip.<br><br>
It was such a joy to walk and wander, and the city felt vibrant and alive, even late at nights after dinner. It may have taken us a while to get there, but it won't take as long to get back for another visit.
</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-54965672254579749272014-10-26T06:14:00.000-05:002014-10-26T06:14:08.357-05:00Hunting the Duck Ness Monster<table border=0><tr><td>Though Mary and I visited Scotland last year with my parents, we spent that entire visit in Edinborough. When my brother and his wife suggested a driving trip that took us through some more outlying and rural areas, we were in.
<br><br>The agenda was aggressive, the car was manual, and the devolution vote was on our last day there; what could go wrong? It turns out, very little would.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZt0E75T-4x3JXWgEgANTlkEo4Glut1jkzY73gwR71XoZKYlIuSC-HVZ6qH4CGTuAQhOKcCt6wrOStNTwpK703y3Mt5iH0ypsCWRPFUy-DW_aTnAfxjBJXROWGReEhF0ZFQw4xA4ut7sI/s1600/01+Stirling+Castle+Ceiling.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZt0E75T-4x3JXWgEgANTlkEo4Glut1jkzY73gwR71XoZKYlIuSC-HVZ6qH4CGTuAQhOKcCt6wrOStNTwpK703y3Mt5iH0ypsCWRPFUy-DW_aTnAfxjBJXROWGReEhF0ZFQw4xA4ut7sI/s400/01+Stirling+Castle+Ceiling.JPG" /></a></div>We took the train up to Edinburgh late in the afternoon and spent the night there. The first stop the following day was Stirling to see their castle.
<br><br>The castle was interesting, with sections built over different times having very different feelings, though much of what we saw were reproductions.
<br><br>One thing that we saw the originals of was a series of bass relief carvings that were used to line the ceiling of the palace. They are now on display in a gallery, with replicas like these up on on the ceiling. These heads had been carved in the 16th century, and it's uncommon for us to see wooden relics from so long ago in such good shape.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5QsZphOFWpotbqJu-lIZrYjHkkAgyN1gryJV-y1ryx7ft5Wu_VZTAOAPLjIBs-PBACPAu8AcqZjC0r-HfjlWj6OzD6y6bSnaLIty1u1itr3zONr4y5jgd-2xpLrMSD-cSArAX87WFgJs/s1600/03+Loch+Lomand.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5QsZphOFWpotbqJu-lIZrYjHkkAgyN1gryJV-y1ryx7ft5Wu_VZTAOAPLjIBs-PBACPAu8AcqZjC0r-HfjlWj6OzD6y6bSnaLIty1u1itr3zONr4y5jgd-2xpLrMSD-cSArAX87WFgJs/s400/03+Loch+Lomand.JPG" /></a></div>After Stirling we continued on North and West, pushing into an area of rather great natural beauty. This picture is of Loch Lomand, one of a chain of lakes stretching across the country. This area reminded us quite a bit of our trip to the Lake District, though it was even less developed.
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Mary and I were not aware of it, but apparently the "You take the high road, I'll take the low road" song is about (and named after) Loch Lomond. It seems that everyone but us knew this, which caused "You know, like in the song" to become a running joke between us.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXLidydexKDPVsZe2EaMSgXI4OO8PGLCFmDqoGEk8Q58l6QTmMLjGPdJSvj5XvcRAt2PvO1OV3gZn2TWF12CT9l4OnldID3ATiYr8zoJ60f-npDgvUgQdKsMPCGuwCHYymBcaiVNtl_a8/s1600/04+Ruin.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXLidydexKDPVsZe2EaMSgXI4OO8PGLCFmDqoGEk8Q58l6QTmMLjGPdJSvj5XvcRAt2PvO1OV3gZn2TWF12CT9l4OnldID3ATiYr8zoJ60f-npDgvUgQdKsMPCGuwCHYymBcaiVNtl_a8/s400/04+Ruin.JPG" /></a></div>Sprinkled throughout the mid- and high-lands are a large number and variety of castles, both ruined and intact. For some reason, it was the ruined ones that really captivated us.
<br><br>This one was barely signed, and only reachable by a half-mile hiking track. Sometimes, the loch (which surrounds the small peninsula it's on) floods the area, and this path becomes a causeway through it. <br><br>
The castle itself was mostly done-in by time, though a rather significant lightning storm was blamed as the final straw in its decline. You can't see them in this photo, but there was a flock of sheep grazing in the grass by the castle, which just lent it an amazingly gothic and romantic feeling.
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<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3Y1X_WOWNGCcSq0yx-dYmS3jxTLhsD5YWWLp3ASQY9L62ghjYzr7ghgvZ8t6O57FtNyATjCchvLoAL9BS2Uda9-67JYggQZaOuvTy00La3asi1HR_pJdHSPq9u6WU3BU_PdpcdmAcNo/s1600/05+Oban.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX3Y1X_WOWNGCcSq0yx-dYmS3jxTLhsD5YWWLp3ASQY9L62ghjYzr7ghgvZ8t6O57FtNyATjCchvLoAL9BS2Uda9-67JYggQZaOuvTy00La3asi1HR_pJdHSPq9u6WU3BU_PdpcdmAcNo/s400/05+Oban.JPG" /></a></div>After spending the night at an inn close to not much, we pressed on into Oban. This is a coastal town with a rare in-town scotch distillery. Mary and I were keen to go on a distillery tour while on the trip, and this was our chance.<br><br>
The tour was fun and informative, and involve several quite tasty samples. Also tasty were the seafood lunches we ate on this pier, procured from a stand that gets its fish fresh from the boats that dock there. Scotland has a lot of seafood thanks to its position in the North Sea and it did not disappoint.
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<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnoP5wGA8hyphenhyphen9foakwMBBsQake6qebvN-OCSOwzLO_neXUKhpWeSjPaV2UcfO1LTWn3a79HnZbt9K7AClwIoQgx_5b9habdSG1FVlRMIf6t49qQt8agyRWhHkx5NT8Ih56KScaeWs6nCJc/s1600/06+Glencoe.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnoP5wGA8hyphenhyphen9foakwMBBsQake6qebvN-OCSOwzLO_neXUKhpWeSjPaV2UcfO1LTWn3a79HnZbt9K7AClwIoQgx_5b9habdSG1FVlRMIf6t49qQt8agyRWhHkx5NT8Ih56KScaeWs6nCJc/s400/06+Glencoe.JPG" /></a></div>From Oban, we drove North to the highlands through Glencoe pass. This is a stretch of road through a quite breathtaking section of the highlands, surrounded by craggy hills and almost entirely devoid of trees. Here and there streams cut through the rocky ground, and many trails tempted us to go off on an adventure. Sadly, we didn't have enough time to get too far off the main road here, but I could definitely imagine spending a few days just hiking around this area, discovering it's desolate beauty.
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<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtdWilpLVz4kCyMCW2bHBMID2haW2dugn1doV34lqIPbUcR45JfP31opy1Op3mYUEr5RfhrfXL5cWBaLAkpXoAhXns_3PFzm2hWTb7CDb5JlZu2R45s4VTm0fiJFwz3hUAgeKvvfsoeM/s1600/07+Ft+Augustus.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWtdWilpLVz4kCyMCW2bHBMID2haW2dugn1doV34lqIPbUcR45JfP31opy1Op3mYUEr5RfhrfXL5cWBaLAkpXoAhXns_3PFzm2hWTb7CDb5JlZu2R45s4VTm0fiJFwz3hUAgeKvvfsoeM/s400/07+Ft+Augustus.JPG" /></a></div>We spent that night in the small town of Fort Agustus, which is located where the canal linking two lochs lets out through a series of locks. Loch locks.
<br><br>What are you seeing here is almost the entirety of the town, but I was quite taken with it. We visited the small canal museum, and in the morning went for a walk in the mist to watch them open the locks for the various boats passing through.<br><br>
Perhaps the highlight for Mary was that the loch Fort Agustus is on is....<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXZogqYjcHePtu0iwmH6FlVFP0wvLlG4DmGqfzNsg-dI1PnYDoBuYLFwCLqbyPeI8GLYe52ccLLpUE8rG9GX7Iripkh3a_1c0WP4-cs6tpD0kKpfNC_jbZCzvOF2v6Rs-GXxHl37QQQRM/s1600/08+Loch+Ness.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXZogqYjcHePtu0iwmH6FlVFP0wvLlG4DmGqfzNsg-dI1PnYDoBuYLFwCLqbyPeI8GLYe52ccLLpUE8rG9GX7Iripkh3a_1c0WP4-cs6tpD0kKpfNC_jbZCzvOF2v6Rs-GXxHl37QQQRM/s400/08+Loch+Ness.JPG" /></a></div>...Loch Ness. Most of this day ended up being spent along the shores of this very long lake, which stayed covered in mist until well after midday.
<br><br>We had no Nessy sightings, so I had to come up with an artist's rendition using a picture of a duck that we took later in the day.<br><br>
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<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_c0oqhJj6OxAIPeWvtz8v09aE2PJAqRHHTjcM3KxYRWyW8HBQ_HRuszVFtJdhZrZ15ra-lWirbVgFxVEnvHPpb4pWX7bBvryqz506JZ78nUIlufvdLiGBR4eMApQU5kMplKM9f4hKf1g/s1600/10+Urquat+Castle.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_c0oqhJj6OxAIPeWvtz8v09aE2PJAqRHHTjcM3KxYRWyW8HBQ_HRuszVFtJdhZrZ15ra-lWirbVgFxVEnvHPpb4pWX7bBvryqz506JZ78nUIlufvdLiGBR4eMApQU5kMplKM9f4hKf1g/s400/10+Urquat+Castle.JPG" /></a></div>Further up the coast of Loch Ness lay Urquhart Castle. This was another ruin, though a much more popular one (with a visitor's center!) It covered a rather large plot of land and had very good signage explaining its history and how it grew and changed over time.<br><br>
Though the picture here is quite dour, the weather improved greatly while we were visiting and we ended up with full sun. With the fog burned off you could appreciate the stunning (and strategic) setting on Loch Ness.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPlGCJDWkE3EqigPuUOuGIti1KFZp6fgi0FF-E18e-KPltkEzs6k6XJ0UP0rAVrKW0EenVzDwlwlLYSlkKEc8DfrBxLbx6wZXKMjR3UGa-VU-FrWhPfBNhvs9j3iZjjw2LDdC2UuHOnQ/s1600/11+Stone+Circle.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcPlGCJDWkE3EqigPuUOuGIti1KFZp6fgi0FF-E18e-KPltkEzs6k6XJ0UP0rAVrKW0EenVzDwlwlLYSlkKEc8DfrBxLbx6wZXKMjR3UGa-VU-FrWhPfBNhvs9j3iZjjw2LDdC2UuHOnQ/s400/11+Stone+Circle.JPG" /></a></div>The final city of the visit was Inverness. Inverness is more of a working city and transportation hub than a cultural city, but it does have a fantastic if small pre-historic site: Clava Cairns. This is a small set of 4000 year old stone circles which were used in burial rituals.<br><br>
Unlike other stone circles we have been to, these ones are actually built-up stone donuts with narrow passageways leading to the center of them.
<br><br>They were also not swarmed with tourists like some circles (I'm looking at you, Stonehenge) so it was a lot easier to imagine the spiritual draw the sites must have had on the people who used them.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2i6xjJBcj470e151N4DH_urf0bmFpo0DoMSs4zLz9iTKxenYhIAd9-CmJUS4Y4i-3y1A3r2xjFFQ8QHIvVW2ikjmrb-1aH7fu05mL49RbUaCDrr33uNKJiZExHyGheuNYU0k1eiYN7o/s1600/12+YesNo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga2i6xjJBcj470e151N4DH_urf0bmFpo0DoMSs4zLz9iTKxenYhIAd9-CmJUS4Y4i-3y1A3r2xjFFQ8QHIvVW2ikjmrb-1aH7fu05mL49RbUaCDrr33uNKJiZExHyGheuNYU0k1eiYN7o/s400/12+YesNo.JPG" /></a></div>So what about that Devolution vote? All through the trip, we saw the marketing materials for both sides of the argument, often on the same sign posts.
<br><br>If you were to cast the vote by the number of each side's signs we saw, then it looked like splitting off was in the lead, though in the end the 'no's took it.
<br><br>Interestingly, beyond the signage and one instance of someone cycling through Inverness shouting "Vote Yes!" we did not see or hear anyone openly discussing the vote. Maybe they didn't want to scare off the tourists.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbnFMFOgYtaBTih0PHru3rWl0uGFFVFlFYcf8tMgChVBAbFvbRhpURqGrmXdZGck8MiiWckA_NA6sRx9Fhv6SFUO6y4cDM9JXfGHOlfXHd9TUI_eZe9xVLyXEbsGew0zQtqJbnR5I9UsQ/s1600/09+sign+collage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbnFMFOgYtaBTih0PHru3rWl0uGFFVFlFYcf8tMgChVBAbFvbRhpURqGrmXdZGck8MiiWckA_NA6sRx9Fhv6SFUO6y4cDM9JXfGHOlfXHd9TUI_eZe9xVLyXEbsGew0zQtqJbnR5I9UsQ/s400/09+sign+collage.jpg" /></a></div>Ultimately, it was a good trip with no drama.<br><br>
My brother did a great job with the wrong-side driving, and we were able to apply the hard lessons learned on our driving trip in Italy to help making escaping the larger towns less stressful.<br><br>
The countryside was lovely, and we saw many great things while still leaving with the desire to return. Really, what else can you ask from a trip?
</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-83568569523615990312014-09-13T16:15:00.000-05:002014-09-13T16:15:37.884-05:00Salzburg: Title Redacted At Request of SpouseWe are just about to head out on our next trip, which means it's do-or-die time to write up the last one! Said last trip was to Salzburg, and it was a few weeks ago in late August.<br><br>
To get there we flew into Munich then took a train over the Austrian border to Salzburg. On the Sunday we were there we then did a day trip to The Eagles Nest, which meant taking a bus back over the border (this time the Southern one) into Germany. The Eurozone meant that we didn't get any extra passport stamps out of it though. Stupid Euro.<br><br>
<table border=0><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEDd5T0UmSisYFz41i6hvOneDvosymwrCRQX9KoPkvybCxYXaOScTXj2NdFKVfHDUGpjE4UYRdKO1x6ZaA-XUtqwSyBZ8MaISpjrsM1KOc45GXTUe1I8cHM1B-8ZA63yiH2wN0areaQZs/s1600/00+overview.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEDd5T0UmSisYFz41i6hvOneDvosymwrCRQX9KoPkvybCxYXaOScTXj2NdFKVfHDUGpjE4UYRdKO1x6ZaA-XUtqwSyBZ8MaISpjrsM1KOc45GXTUe1I8cHM1B-8ZA63yiH2wN0areaQZs/s400/00+overview.JPG" /></a></div>Salzburg is located quite near the alps, and is nestled in between a river and a cliff. This gave it a highly defensible position during times that was needed, but also restricted its growth quite noticably. The scenic old center of town is quite compact, and the fortress built on the cliff above looms over it all.<br><br>
Mozart was born here and, as we found in Vienna, they are much more cultured than I am. While we were there they were showing free operas projected on a large screen in one of the squares and every seat was taken.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwaFwbToLX3wz7uMvVSvQKkTCF8IS2iOuGZEP7yuneNHuSHUYqb6lgTCZvDBl3e2oiuCepdUmqCswtDhXnU1LEv-s8ewldLn8hk-OFVJ4KWe7saiK3dREbfXA8asVK-n0zUwhnfa-V8x4/s1600/01+square.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwaFwbToLX3wz7uMvVSvQKkTCF8IS2iOuGZEP7yuneNHuSHUYqb6lgTCZvDBl3e2oiuCepdUmqCswtDhXnU1LEv-s8ewldLn8hk-OFVJ4KWe7saiK3dREbfXA8asVK-n0zUwhnfa-V8x4/s400/01+square.jpg" /></a></div>The town center itself is very Italianate due to the egos of the rulers. They were important, and wanted to look the part. They brought in craftsmen from Italy to design and build many of the squares and fountains, and it definitely has that feel.<br><br>
The main center is a series of connected squares with small roads running off higgely piggely. This view is actually of the largest square looking into a second one (the two buildings in the background are pinching the intersection between them.)<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMC0_CwfeBURfyl_0nDnmXlBE5kGiQPvsaAIKl1oFFjM6ABKg7kuccIHh7CHAO_WHSidr82KXfBmrxqSu1KZELpzlozSRyNU8y8Y0MzR-v_GI1uk-MxioDymp3d6dBr5FlKrU8oOuad8Q/s1600/02+cliff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMC0_CwfeBURfyl_0nDnmXlBE5kGiQPvsaAIKl1oFFjM6ABKg7kuccIHh7CHAO_WHSidr82KXfBmrxqSu1KZELpzlozSRyNU8y8Y0MzR-v_GI1uk-MxioDymp3d6dBr5FlKrU8oOuad8Q/s400/02+cliff.jpg" /></a></div>When you live next to a giant cliff, sometimes you need to get creative. The stone of the cliff was quarried and used for building materials, but they also would build some things right into it. This is a very old portion of a church (labeled catacombs, but I believe more like a monastic home) which was carved into the face.<br><br>
In general we have found our trips in Austria to be a bit less church-filled than some of our others in Europe, but we did quite like this one. Graves in the cemetery (see the cluster of markers in the bottom left corner) were all very well kept and elaborately planted with vibrant flowers. The church also has a bakery that's been around for hundreds of years, so how could we not love it?<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKLabHFw6GrFWOkvpRT_SWpBXGaRIOmxdeHBDdS2eKiI1GN2o3M-P3fFL3ZE5IH44ZYO_0esUQwzWX_Y4bMMsNDcmAh0xzEjYgLkIgufYyR-GXRxPhPcPLsD1AVxHr7LWomSDdBMLnXHk/s1600/03+view+from+cliff.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKLabHFw6GrFWOkvpRT_SWpBXGaRIOmxdeHBDdS2eKiI1GN2o3M-P3fFL3ZE5IH44ZYO_0esUQwzWX_Y4bMMsNDcmAh0xzEjYgLkIgufYyR-GXRxPhPcPLsD1AVxHr7LWomSDdBMLnXHk/s400/03+view+from+cliff.jpg" /></a></div>As per usual when in Europe and near a tall thing, we were compelled to climb it. In this case though, it was the cliff rather than a church tower. The top of the cliff is covered almost entirely by a series of interconnected parks, with some museums and restaurants punctuating them. We had coffee at a very fancy place one afternoon to enjoy the view, then had dinner another night at a much more casual joint where we sat at cliff-side picnic tables and ate weird bread dumplings with delicious meat stews.<br><br>
The views over the city from up here are just amazing, and I could not get enough of them. I literally took hundreds of photos, most of which I am sparing you.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGFC0q4RtEdYXVxH-ronw-9tLDUiQun_y9OQO96BcDGsGK1qw_k8Hxmi1EP5REzfSHGU__OpUJRqsfqSA8-5jx0SXZpnsr7eXD5obpDnfh7qpMrnExWx9UgdSUSHTP6Gd7T6-dzqBjrX4/s1600/04+creepy+statue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGFC0q4RtEdYXVxH-ronw-9tLDUiQun_y9OQO96BcDGsGK1qw_k8Hxmi1EP5REzfSHGU__OpUJRqsfqSA8-5jx0SXZpnsr7eXD5obpDnfh7qpMrnExWx9UgdSUSHTP6Gd7T6-dzqBjrX4/s400/04+creepy+statue.jpg" /></a></div>Back on the ground, we took a strange statue tour of the city.<br><br>
These two are no doubt from an opera (most of the statues in town seem to be,) but because of the staining from the trees behind they are super creepy. There was a whole series of these statues, and they were amazing in their un-intended spookiness.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEA7rNJDQ0mgCAF4MA5T7ufbfyEuUzLUQ8vBHAUkANL3DUaLEMCenFt-NO1pmS9GSTpA-fQbYgM813qVui87pkpT8fQH307Gtws9QmPIVdB2Q5jm_G4D1o1r_uZNDXizoS6QpRqCQXnZ8/s1600/05+creepy+dwarf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEA7rNJDQ0mgCAF4MA5T7ufbfyEuUzLUQ8vBHAUkANL3DUaLEMCenFt-NO1pmS9GSTpA-fQbYgM813qVui87pkpT8fQH307Gtws9QmPIVdB2Q5jm_G4D1o1r_uZNDXizoS6QpRqCQXnZ8/s400/05+creepy+dwarf.jpg" /></a></div>Next up for odd statues was the "dwarf garden" at the palace. You might naively think that this would be a garden with smaller varieties of plants on display, but no. This was a garden with life-sized statues of the dozen or so dwarfs that served in the court of the Prince Archbishop.<br><br>
They are apparently significant because their clothing is known to be incredibly accurate to the period where they were sculpted, but it's a bit hard to get past the grotesquerie of it. This guy had a goiter and is shown throttling a bird of some form, and almost every statue was carved disfigured in some way.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibbdOzoT8cqSzAYAg3bSgpi956XiHO_xOBjpTsgwvQl_E2mTxqn-yJ6Z9Rmpad93_8YE8KNJyaYRun1ZBKMuUdDPqelfgpJN25zey1G1HXJVOmq9p6XiyFJV0jrTm_md2yLDBuh8OwooQ/s1600/08+bunker.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibbdOzoT8cqSzAYAg3bSgpi956XiHO_xOBjpTsgwvQl_E2mTxqn-yJ6Z9Rmpad93_8YE8KNJyaYRun1ZBKMuUdDPqelfgpJN25zey1G1HXJVOmq9p6XiyFJV0jrTm_md2yLDBuh8OwooQ/s400/08+bunker.JPG" /></a></div>As I mentioned above, Sunday was given over almost entirely to a trip to the Eagles Nest. This is a tea house that one of Hitler's advisors built for him, high above his house in Bavaria.<br><br>
The trip started with visiting some of the bunkers that the Nazi's used, which were a series of caverns and tunnels spiderwebbed under the entire area. It was interesting to see the scale of them, and to also compare them to the Churchill War Rooms in London. Whereas the ones in London had been preserved with the original furnishings, these had been stripped bare after the war.<br><br>
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<table border=0><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsD8f_X2IMNY9Vcq0pAwkUrgSx6YTZArKGl8A7wXRokMGCGJ8qEbvv_2Sgd8MZlPaIXujmU9aHuTEDt7M_nVZpvG0rOTORz8QadBca_xkdRLFV36Zz6w9_EGVDlx5rtRyF5_4ycL5mDi8/s1600/07+nest.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsD8f_X2IMNY9Vcq0pAwkUrgSx6YTZArKGl8A7wXRokMGCGJ8qEbvv_2Sgd8MZlPaIXujmU9aHuTEDt7M_nVZpvG0rOTORz8QadBca_xkdRLFV36Zz6w9_EGVDlx5rtRyF5_4ycL5mDi8/s640/07+nest.jpg" /></a>
<tr><td>Getting from the bunkers to the nest involved a bus ride up a winding, one-lane road that clung to the side of the mountain. I have learned, as husbands must do if they wish to survive, that poking my wife and saying "Wow, look at that drop off!" is not a good thing to do. I found it exhilarating and stunning, but was smart enough to keep that to myself on the drive.<br><br>
At the peak, you are faced with stunning views of the Alps and some of the towns in the valley floor below them. We had some clouds, but they came and went and really only served to add to the majesty of the place. Despite its dark history, it really is amazingly stunning.<br><br>
It was also here that I discovered the three things that my wife has in common with Hitler: She is mildly afraid of heights; she is mildly claustrophobic; and she has walked the halls of The Eagles Nest. She is also unwilling to have a blog post titled "Three Things My Wife Has In Common With Hitler", though I'm not sure where Adolf would have fallen on that one.<br><br>
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<table border=0><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS88GNvN82Al01WW1KuexvZVQVDr9xE4tA7NRSNhkGyZZmv7CjMySfu4dLdvtymYCZEhOD1CtH-O7neLKCyDsFh3-AnO8AlWF-9-c__V2b5l_aUJ9B459T06T2V03r6W-CUygL1ZRfTEc/s1600/06+castle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS88GNvN82Al01WW1KuexvZVQVDr9xE4tA7NRSNhkGyZZmv7CjMySfu4dLdvtymYCZEhOD1CtH-O7neLKCyDsFh3-AnO8AlWF-9-c__V2b5l_aUJ9B459T06T2V03r6W-CUygL1ZRfTEc/s400/06+castle.jpg" /></a></div>Back in Sazlburg, we spent some quality time back up on the cliff and in the fotress. It was strategically placed to be very well protected, and is immensely imposing. It also means it can require a lot of cardio to get there.<br><br>
The museums there were only ok, but the setting and the views were spectacular enough that it could not have mattered less.<br><br>
Overall it was a great visit to a fairy tale setting with wonderful food, and we loved it.
</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-6399106703950525232014-08-03T13:36:00.001-05:002014-08-03T13:36:46.827-05:00Dextrous Dexter's Lake District Adventure<table border=0><tr><td>After a bit of a lull in travel thanks to The Incident, we are back in the saddle. We've done one or two country walks outside of London. While they were lovely they didn't quite manage to get a post, but they did inspire a trip to the Lake District in northern England.<br><br>
For a change, this post has almost no buildings in it and also features pictures of humans. Weird!<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTGFXghjHZKsfZ0NZAFRUkDfaxw9QXMs5KGnsYW4vxJ0DqXb1LazIVSgNfeaiNL4ZMKYvP5ZtEcs9Nv6LOlqqstGiuOuWWkR9-GB32zI84MK9D6SaLM449T3ojwv8fLL5dsOnflS-Ls9k/s1600/01+grasmere.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTGFXghjHZKsfZ0NZAFRUkDfaxw9QXMs5KGnsYW4vxJ0DqXb1LazIVSgNfeaiNL4ZMKYvP5ZtEcs9Nv6LOlqqstGiuOuWWkR9-GB32zI84MK9D6SaLM449T3ojwv8fLL5dsOnflS-Ls9k/s400/01+grasmere.JPG" /></a></div>This picture pretty much sums up the Lake District, minus the lakes (and sheep.) Large open hilltops with woods at the base, small one-street towns, and green grassy grazing lands. And stone walls.
<br><br>This particular town is Grassmere, which is known for it's unique style of gingerbread which you can only get there. It is possible that we took the bus an extra thirty minutes just to try it. Worth it.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5v_24ubrMN0UPlTqHR6N82d9EMurWN3SrS3xwr25-JgeGp704vAVwHYB-JU_u1DZLRTEQaz1TQ27ZG-NlzNFFt4CGjRFNmmEgI-f7vriVnV4Yf-kGbr2S2s7cmmMQKwsHney_Zie0L04/s1600/03+wall+style.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5v_24ubrMN0UPlTqHR6N82d9EMurWN3SrS3xwr25-JgeGp704vAVwHYB-JU_u1DZLRTEQaz1TQ27ZG-NlzNFFt4CGjRFNmmEgI-f7vriVnV4Yf-kGbr2S2s7cmmMQKwsHney_Zie0L04/s400/03+wall+style.JPG" /></a></div>Hikes in England are not like hikes in America. Almost all of them lead through private farm lands on permissive paths. Usually, these need to cross the boundaries between fields, which means getting through (or more often over) fences. It's common on most of our walks to see stiles, which are a kind of half-ladder, half-stairs contraption.
<br><br>With so many stone walls I was curious to see how they managed this here. Wall stiles! Notice the sign asking you to keep near the wall: these guys aren't cemented together, so they need all the help physics can give them.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6M2kdpNtVByH2MRlpfLZXH2cDAp5OGLriPPVyqiYjgtTbGUklyL64UzxbbnPenV_xxLVcayRvjysX_-kufcPLQE0EfFMB3ZXJ_IuLTTd3SvR_fViHNJGyvoO93D1LC0D2Wod4P_CLsEg/s1600/04+hills+walls+sheep.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6M2kdpNtVByH2MRlpfLZXH2cDAp5OGLriPPVyqiYjgtTbGUklyL64UzxbbnPenV_xxLVcayRvjysX_-kufcPLQE0EfFMB3ZXJ_IuLTTd3SvR_fViHNJGyvoO93D1LC0D2Wod4P_CLsEg/s400/04+hills+walls+sheep.JPG" /></a></div>This is pretty much just a stone wall glamour shot for my mother-in-law. Hi Pat! Click on the picture for a larger view!
<br><br>These walls went pretty much everywhere in the area. No matter how far up a hill or into what felt like unpopulated land you got, you could rely on there being a stone wall to reference. It was both scenic and quite useful.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu37Feur9iSkrVFbDJWlX7dDbvCyfFmSVdiq2xqlRKUkQ6r3v9Awidc7nrpOK7DENqKsf99OXibzxQZZm463bOo0vsNMBzmQVdy2_6xTJ4GwW8A6-B4ztSOxPS8zTS8XlVoFn4b3H7Roo/s1600/05+Dexter.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu37Feur9iSkrVFbDJWlX7dDbvCyfFmSVdiq2xqlRKUkQ6r3v9Awidc7nrpOK7DENqKsf99OXibzxQZZm463bOo0vsNMBzmQVdy2_6xTJ4GwW8A6-B4ztSOxPS8zTS8XlVoFn4b3H7Roo/s400/05+Dexter.JPG" /></a></div>As expected, the area had a lot of outdoorsy tourists. Unexpectedly, it also had an amazing number of visiting dogs. This one is Dexter, who was very excited to climb the Cat Bells but not as excited to get on the boat that took us there. He ended up getting carried onto (and off) the boat, but had no problems with the rocky scrambles up the hill. He made better time than us.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim60fQDKPIeCTuQt0qbyMxIPRMTRQBamIe2SLOqSQJhWKtrflDUdUpMc0GqlPnxxdT6t0j_WWRcWT62TkP3pj51-q6U0r6tOFxeiDloXZZ0Q0gR3af3HGJ54NwYkpO-x0smhlVH4lGU1w/s1600/06+Mary.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim60fQDKPIeCTuQt0qbyMxIPRMTRQBamIe2SLOqSQJhWKtrflDUdUpMc0GqlPnxxdT6t0j_WWRcWT62TkP3pj51-q6U0r6tOFxeiDloXZZ0Q0gR3af3HGJ54NwYkpO-x0smhlVH4lGU1w/s400/06+Mary.JPG" /></a></div>Here's Mary part-way up the Cat Bells. Just to the right of her head is the low peak, which was our terminus. Behind that is a higher peak, which we'd like to do on a return trip when we actually plan for a nine-mile walk (the low peak is a three-mile one.) This hike had some noticably steep bits where we had to scramble over rocks to get up, but the views were great.<br><br>
</table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1iKFxTNEEJU6gPDdMQyXLDW6ZiIW4aFL8iKdbet6D-ssYv4tLIInPWnFJ1gcf7YYI-7GQltPUKE0Hf-YuAOx2HqblBPPhh5kZ_O4ziDJzLV1a_TdcRkLu6TUoC4fr8oOSusoel5dvzvU/s1600/07+catbells+panarama.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1iKFxTNEEJU6gPDdMQyXLDW6ZiIW4aFL8iKdbet6D-ssYv4tLIInPWnFJ1gcf7YYI-7GQltPUKE0Hf-YuAOx2HqblBPPhh5kZ_O4ziDJzLV1a_TdcRkLu6TUoC4fr8oOSusoel5dvzvU/s640/07+catbells+panarama.JPG" /></a></div>
<br><br><table border=0><tr><td>And here's that view. I have been playing around with the panorama feature on my phone in hopes that it would better capture the sweeping majesty, though somtimes it's just really good at capturing odd visual effects (the distortion on the woman up the path, the orange smear that was her son) and Mary trying to duck to not get captured. Still, it manages to show the beauty of the lake (Derwent Water) on the left and the farm valley on the right.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0cqZYdcE_G3FHVMU4AS2vqyUoLJV2Ku8_vOXxYpXPg_Wv0-cqBjAlJ3kD99QkDZCd7XIlMsqSjrEKN6lagJwT6RrFE6_bWIuH2c1Q_mXagfAvpKlYkBNNEfuvqB97_QDDAVvuncEZ2uM/s1600/09+bill+walla+crag.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0cqZYdcE_G3FHVMU4AS2vqyUoLJV2Ku8_vOXxYpXPg_Wv0-cqBjAlJ3kD99QkDZCd7XIlMsqSjrEKN6lagJwT6RrFE6_bWIuH2c1Q_mXagfAvpKlYkBNNEfuvqB97_QDDAVvuncEZ2uM/s400/09+bill+walla+crag.JPG" /></a></div>On the same day as the Cat Bells we also hiked up Walla Crag. This was a less popular, but no less stunning climb. Once we got up into the hills a bit, it was easy to feel a million miles from everywhere.
<br><br>From the peak we had a nice view down over the same lake as above, this time from the other side.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Qd5A690snXMyrafU1HdmhmhsNhJW40wbZPQgzGrgNZI43KjOs7b-Cj-vKoU5MIJrsobH-BQWYGhJFqYHjG0vGtIuXhcj0FulUkLhGLvBGu6CJt1f71xI0hyHzMLXtpVJknaufS1fXrE/s1600/10+Derwent+Water+from+walla+crag.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Qd5A690snXMyrafU1HdmhmhsNhJW40wbZPQgzGrgNZI43KjOs7b-Cj-vKoU5MIJrsobH-BQWYGhJFqYHjG0vGtIuXhcj0FulUkLhGLvBGu6CJt1f71xI0hyHzMLXtpVJknaufS1fXrE/s400/10+Derwent+Water+from+walla+crag.JPG" /></a></div>Here is that view without a doofus in the way. In the top right corner you can just make out the small buildings of Keswick where we stayed.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYG1Rn6M8bCfrN8NPWNfYtnN3Fptua0bCWWIttvmT4nftSPYWSkT8u15abHXV2_RA7Kq6Qc7SoURjbhg3KQ_ZE59TgzYJ61Omwxl8u5yAOSREzOj_Lc1TQUOp1-nBsmpnf6Yw9L-J6N0/s1600/11+sheep.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTYG1Rn6M8bCfrN8NPWNfYtnN3Fptua0bCWWIttvmT4nftSPYWSkT8u15abHXV2_RA7Kq6Qc7SoURjbhg3KQ_ZE59TgzYJ61Omwxl8u5yAOSREzOj_Lc1TQUOp1-nBsmpnf6Yw9L-J6N0/s400/11+sheep.JPG" /></a></div>We will know that we are done with England when we stop being amused by sheep. Sheep are all over here (well, not in London) and we see them on almost every country walk we do.
<br><br>The Lake District took this to an extreme, and we even saw them in the towns grazing in church yards. The English folks I know feel that sheep are pretty pedestrian and boring, but for us they are still adorable and new.<br><br>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXOADfagmTNJAhIt7WHNCoGZlPmWEca2w1S13D_QeoJw45rZjm1b6VYSTpGDS7RMRZYkVsRbP1THsOLUuIdRO3Ousqe4OtQe3KYt__AksXemrZY2cU4KFSJgSuPHjZlqkHqNw5R55yIZk/s1600/15+ullswater+panarama.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXOADfagmTNJAhIt7WHNCoGZlPmWEca2w1S13D_QeoJw45rZjm1b6VYSTpGDS7RMRZYkVsRbP1THsOLUuIdRO3Ousqe4OtQe3KYt__AksXemrZY2cU4KFSJgSuPHjZlqkHqNw5R55yIZk/s640/15+ullswater+panarama.JPG" /></a></div><br><br>
<table border=0><tr><td>On our final full day there, we did a six-mile walk which turned out to be a ten-mile hike. Oops! This walk took us almost the entire length of Ullswater (seen here in distort-o-rific panorama,) which is further South in the region.
<br><br>While I loved the cliff-side setting with sharp drop-offs beside us (Amazing views! It feels like you are walking on nothing!) Mary found it a bit more harrowing. Between the drop offs and unexpected length it was a little stressful, but it did end up being gorgeous.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2i4LwlEIMq_Him-TGs4ghCVJsCj5GMojchuFNUPo344NthI2ImaHbanBy3zSVqU19xM8zzNxWuFYbOnD30Otk6JK6XhA1tPW3NJPRU7cXDsBf_lEMLQeh7ISyL4C-GcSUrU6t1AV4mgU/s1600/16+aira+force.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2i4LwlEIMq_Him-TGs4ghCVJsCj5GMojchuFNUPo344NthI2ImaHbanBy3zSVqU19xM8zzNxWuFYbOnD30Otk6JK6XhA1tPW3NJPRU7cXDsBf_lEMLQeh7ISyL4C-GcSUrU6t1AV4mgU/s400/16+aira+force.JPG" /></a></div>At the end of the Ullswater walk, we walked a little on a very well-paved path to see the Aira Force waterfall.
<br><br>After the unexpectedly long first hike, we were pleased to have one that was a bit more level and even. The falls were beautiful, as were the bridges and rapids around them.<br><br>
<tr><td>Overall we had a fantastic trip, and would highly recommend the area to anyone looking for a nice get away in England. We had worried a bit about our ability to get around just by bus, but in the end it was a non-issue. We're hopeful that we can sneak in a trip back before we return to America, but time will tell. There are still so many places to go!
</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-80866062581576154222014-05-05T10:21:00.001-05:002014-05-05T12:43:47.688-05:00Duck Fight!<table border=0><tr><td>While I haven't posted about them yet, we've actually been taking some long walks in the outlying areas of London this summer. This Saturday we had great weather, so we headed to Oxford to do a walk along several of the canals and to check out the colleges.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwKRIcGOJpyPXmqQGb8szKuGGteFffdGQAlLf0Lq9MsBskdMr1aO0Af8fNQOI4jp0DEw_LGfpSVcMw1C-7l3kk5GITvDYdBeG2pzbILnr7yCXFZci8iNg2yXaQfvaFdXlJiAf9oQwVvfo/s1600/01+walk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwKRIcGOJpyPXmqQGb8szKuGGteFffdGQAlLf0Lq9MsBskdMr1aO0Af8fNQOI4jp0DEw_LGfpSVcMw1C-7l3kk5GITvDYdBeG2pzbILnr7yCXFZci8iNg2yXaQfvaFdXlJiAf9oQwVvfo/s400/01+walk.jpg" /></a></div>The canal walk was lovely, if a bit muddy. We saw canals, pastures, really narrow houseboats, ducks fighting, and an abandoned nunnery (alternative suggested title for the post: Get Your Nun On! Get Your Nun On!)<br><br>
This walk wasn't as scenic as our last which was through a river valley, but it was level and we had great weather so I am not complaining too much.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1EfZQgAVde9cc68pUkYrosxSmK1I6cQ2AVtTzxoa9xjv8pK7I0lezJXtFZEUAZpC3TknGGs8RnpxwmAnDLTh2Xf8RaPpvRFqebfv-43weYzvuhkgWXFgbgtd6tJ3vQ6nhg_jUkHARGV0/s1600/02+thatch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1EfZQgAVde9cc68pUkYrosxSmK1I6cQ2AVtTzxoa9xjv8pK7I0lezJXtFZEUAZpC3TknGGs8RnpxwmAnDLTh2Xf8RaPpvRFqebfv-43weYzvuhkgWXFgbgtd6tJ3vQ6nhg_jUkHARGV0/s400/02+thatch.jpg" /></a></div>We had lunch at a pub in Wolvercote, where we also spied this awesome thatched roof cottage. Thatch holds a kind-of mythical quality of English-ness for those of us from America, though we almost never see it.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR8KsA5Slsy56VPIEbnmphShi_dKUujW8tRmh3obeywnCM2nfX_RdPGIe1IjtaqFJUmfG5Q1nCX2cOfZ04AaJwrfsKpeHzwkcIPJlE9uITaecakTkEl743GMIHv9AM7BNsuPXuY_A3oGk/s1600/03+museum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR8KsA5Slsy56VPIEbnmphShi_dKUujW8tRmh3obeywnCM2nfX_RdPGIe1IjtaqFJUmfG5Q1nCX2cOfZ04AaJwrfsKpeHzwkcIPJlE9uITaecakTkEl743GMIHv9AM7BNsuPXuY_A3oGk/s400/03+museum.jpg" /></a></div>Back in town we visited a few museums. The first was this one, which seems perfectly normal from the outside, but opens up into glass-ceilinged splendor once you enter.<br><br>
The collection was a hodge-podge of fossils, stuffed animals (including a dodo!), and other samples. It was a very classical idea of what a musuem should be.<br><br>
Further back, one reaches the ethnographic collection which I can only describe as straight out of Indiana Jones. It's a jumble of glass-fronted cabinets in one huge, dimly lit hall, with tiny passages winding between them. The cabinets have loose themes (models of housing, animal representations) and are jam packed with samples from many different regions. It's an amazing thing to see, though sadly none of my photos came out due to the light.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrQQB-bLRIjNL9XPcmI35Upo3n6Zc5Yx5Dw2B6ks5_hb7GbIFNgpejBpccQD8qT-h9Lryiv6cl6XiaNJ6jo5jnGhRMp2rSJyuPRGbK99odFpnQGQX42A9nC6Vk5OtWlg5c4xhtBw1Z4JM/s1600/04+uni.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrQQB-bLRIjNL9XPcmI35Upo3n6Zc5Yx5Dw2B6ks5_hb7GbIFNgpejBpccQD8qT-h9Lryiv6cl6XiaNJ6jo5jnGhRMp2rSJyuPRGbK99odFpnQGQX42A9nC6Vk5OtWlg5c4xhtBw1Z4JM/s400/04+uni.jpg" /></a></div>The colleges themselves were also nice. I am still trying to get my head around how education works in this country, and having been to both Cambridge and Oxford now hasn't really straightened that out at all for me. Still, nice buildings.<br><br>
We were there a touch too late to tour any of the interiors of the colleges or the main church, so we ended up grabbing tea and heading out. All in all, a lovely day trip.<br><br>
<tr><td><b>Update:</b> Mary pointed out that I neglected to record our adventure coming home. We got to the Oxford station just in time to catch one back to London, and then had it stop repeatedly due to a door sensor. We went one stop and then the conductor made a hard to hear announcement that caused everyone to exit the train. This was a rare case where following the herd was a good idea, as we ended up on a faster (and actually running) train home. Also, we got to have this conversation over text (we were seated separately after the train swap):<br><br>
Bill: There is a woman on this train with a guitar painted on her face that totally looks like a cartoon penis.<br>
Mary: Next to you?<br>
Bill: On your 11:00<br>
Mary: Ha ha<br>
Mary: Oh yes I see it<br>
Bill: Boy is she going to feel silly when she looks in the mirror.<br>
Mary: The guy looks like he has one too.<br>
Bill: He's blocked by the seat.<br>
Mary: Or a bandage<br>
Mary: Over his eye<br>
Mary: I am trying not to stare<br>
Bill: Hers is a painting, his is a penis face tattoo<br>
Mary: Nope it's painted.<br>
Bill: Why would he paint a bandage on?<br>
</table>
StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-15200369934906989002014-04-27T05:06:00.000-05:002014-04-27T05:06:29.605-05:00Easter in Seville<table border=0><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7X2jqSNP7rNnEfjRKkukm4PhwcBehdebFF1a2PG02GnjoLwdD-OmAiRVTyMKh44_87qgTar56B3GUkFK6t2iTiFteMtR3gMhEOIN86QGscYl2Ly6njkuxSyAz2oX4E91V09ME72BMChg/s1600/a00+night.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7X2jqSNP7rNnEfjRKkukm4PhwcBehdebFF1a2PG02GnjoLwdD-OmAiRVTyMKh44_87qgTar56B3GUkFK6t2iTiFteMtR3gMhEOIN86QGscYl2Ly6njkuxSyAz2oX4E91V09ME72BMChg/s320/a00+night.jpg" /></a></div>
Last year for Easter we were finally feeling settled in here and didn't do much, so this year we wanted to take a bigger trip for it and travel for the full four days we had off.<br><br>
We choose Seville in Spain, since it's a very Catholic country and we figured it'd be a sight to see. It did not disappoint.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRgHSfb0GKNAxaU1myzBthTBraKu1PD0Nokx5a_IKvJTRy9BMkLHoo12RSwbtARl3msOJbz6xNSgFIR7lNDXm1-uS_PnOWTikjcjnmpmAmlJb1CaWAJ6-mr749Zq3rn4Fb3MDieLaiYB4/s1600/a01+plaza+espana.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRgHSfb0GKNAxaU1myzBthTBraKu1PD0Nokx5a_IKvJTRy9BMkLHoo12RSwbtARl3msOJbz6xNSgFIR7lNDXm1-uS_PnOWTikjcjnmpmAmlJb1CaWAJ6-mr749Zq3rn4Fb3MDieLaiYB4/s320/a01+plaza+espana.jpg" /></a></div>
One thing that Seville is known for is tile, and you can see it all over town. I was quite enchanted by it and have dozens of photos of entryways and floors which I will spare the internet.<br><br>
Nowhere is the tile more the focus than at the Plaza de Espana. This was the site of a worlds fair for Spanish-speaking nations years ago, and it has been maintained as a tourist site and park since.
<br><br>The main building has a series of alcoves with tiled displays of each of the regions of Spain. We saw many people getting their pictures taken near the alcove of the region they hailed from, which was a lot of fun.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQIY6hGh8bhxNNntX4c-aabYSY0KSxIPvMTWa-W2N4GzUCmoMay6pZCuG-Hw2hAN_mjonqLyxAgCgIxVxlppONe1sWTQ6PiX05sJK17L5mgSot0mUQEm0D-TvPeGbOpxs0MGxBV9OTE2o/s1600/a02+01+parade.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQIY6hGh8bhxNNntX4c-aabYSY0KSxIPvMTWa-W2N4GzUCmoMay6pZCuG-Hw2hAN_mjonqLyxAgCgIxVxlppONe1sWTQ6PiX05sJK17L5mgSot0mUQEm0D-TvPeGbOpxs0MGxBV9OTE2o/s320/a02+01+parade.JPG" /></a></div>
A big part of Easter in Seville is the processions , which run all of Holy Week.
<br><br>In these, devout locals dress in robes and funny hats and take over the streets. The processions happen throughout the week, with the main focus being Thursday night through Saturday, and at their peak run from midday until two or three in the morning.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1l-RUWaDgvzpac4B5cKkP-jT9U4H4C5nfPj2Dex8AJtCBfYMLphLg8BbrgXDsvA3adTLFLYe37hzV0S0VV76nfyaHi2D0jDBxrvAFJnxeVnYWtPQhzv8MkuzwCrwgUPCrnVw16widZg/s1600/a02+02+parade.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1l-RUWaDgvzpac4B5cKkP-jT9U4H4C5nfPj2Dex8AJtCBfYMLphLg8BbrgXDsvA3adTLFLYe37hzV0S0VV76nfyaHi2D0jDBxrvAFJnxeVnYWtPQhzv8MkuzwCrwgUPCrnVw16widZg/s320/a02+02+parade.JPG" /></a></div>Each group starts at its home church and walks the city, passing the main cathedral at some point, and generally ending up back at the starting point.<br><br>
There can be up to sixteen hundred people in each group, and with narrow streets they stretch for miles.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGV-zRhOMDJnt2yEdTB1ZnLc-Z2rSpHO3Zhwx1K3-Y2zZsQtaOw7TYmZsOOmlB7MIXLhR9Bah2Yy_M8f6m5YO79mgMjE3DkI16EqPZXt9xVfcxwhtTbjIznuUPFWfofGNL1BYSDBLnd8Y/s1600/a02+03+parade.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGV-zRhOMDJnt2yEdTB1ZnLc-Z2rSpHO3Zhwx1K3-Y2zZsQtaOw7TYmZsOOmlB7MIXLhR9Bah2Yy_M8f6m5YO79mgMjE3DkI16EqPZXt9xVfcxwhtTbjIznuUPFWfofGNL1BYSDBLnd8Y/s320/a02+03+parade.JPG" /></a></div>Each group carries one or more floats, which are candlelit at night. These mostly are dioramas of Mary surrounded by flowers and candles and wearing a long cape, though you do run into the odd Jesus as well.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeK1ubjlpcjxPUllZCWJ8RTPeCPl3cOEY7x8W15uR2Fdr_E_SbqOAv1SL8dYpSQ3q0f4SjBCCFPm0nfUn19GjtifxqIp18U1_5NQwYcIisLnUVtY9cPgkzGB_kcMjk7ZalvS1_tTcwXUc/s1600/a02+04+parade.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeK1ubjlpcjxPUllZCWJ8RTPeCPl3cOEY7x8W15uR2Fdr_E_SbqOAv1SL8dYpSQ3q0f4SjBCCFPm0nfUn19GjtifxqIp18U1_5NQwYcIisLnUVtY9cPgkzGB_kcMjk7ZalvS1_tTcwXUc/s320/a02+04+parade.JPG" /></a></div>It's quite a delight to chance upon them enroute to some other destination.
<br><br>There is a brochure handed out which gives rough times and locations for each of the groups, but as it was in Spanish and used some local names for locations, we mostly winged it when on the hunt.
<br><br>Once coming home from dinner we managed to get to a three-block area surrounded on all sides by parades. A bit disconcerting, but still a cool experience.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOoYhTUOSfvmSm5KUoewVatuTOmHtaiOrTz-y-zeccaWgWHI27sCfzVzGvu1cEDhToMrLQ4VhIYj3RcjvZVUXzROw1fPRpj3WD1JX_P_vufNDorbhVlITwSsIlTmBbqNNwjapdcqcV2OI/s1600/a03+view.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOoYhTUOSfvmSm5KUoewVatuTOmHtaiOrTz-y-zeccaWgWHI27sCfzVzGvu1cEDhToMrLQ4VhIYj3RcjvZVUXzROw1fPRpj3WD1JX_P_vufNDorbhVlITwSsIlTmBbqNNwjapdcqcV2OI/s320/a03+view.jpg" /></a></div>
We also, as we do, visited (and climbed) the main cathedral in town. The tower of the cathedral actually dates from a mosque that used to be on the site. The climb has almost no stairs, but rather thirty five or so connected ramps spiraling up the tower which allowed the Oman to ride his horse up to could sing the call to prayer. So cool. Of all the climbs we have done, this was the least cramped and most brightly lit thanks to windows the entire way up.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcQeVaI0Utl_quv0RpAP8UtScBX6756Yqwck9La0xG-NpYI4r1uy9RfnAH1-MYNuElOvB5hK5x7KQv03gOBDvdb_vlNa1aAKs4suHr9xOFotxILH6ltdDHSqX-kCmzspqjm-sMf6AQBM/s1600/a04+columbus.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcQeVaI0Utl_quv0RpAP8UtScBX6756Yqwck9La0xG-NpYI4r1uy9RfnAH1-MYNuElOvB5hK5x7KQv03gOBDvdb_vlNa1aAKs4suHr9xOFotxILH6ltdDHSqX-kCmzspqjm-sMf6AQBM/s320/a04+columbus.jpg" /></a></div>Within the cathedral were a number of cool sights. This one is the tomb of Christopher Columbus, who hailed from the region.
<br><br>We read that they had done DNA testing to verify it was him, and Mary and I immediately asked each other "Who did they compare it to?" It turns out that he has surviving heirs all these years later, living in Puerto Rico and Spain. Who knew?<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSW_e9cHanAq6h3Moprqs6zr-OzC0z0AuY4Yygw_SOt_rgkKdW4k7OcPt00U8ubWi1nvi18YaXSTqWK3mEypmhyphenhyphenjID9v22rgMZ0HNd2S8z0617N1ELq63JJKhF1RyYxG1bspdOdBK3Lns/s1600/a05+alcazar.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSW_e9cHanAq6h3Moprqs6zr-OzC0z0AuY4Yygw_SOt_rgkKdW4k7OcPt00U8ubWi1nvi18YaXSTqWK3mEypmhyphenhyphenjID9v22rgMZ0HNd2S8z0617N1ELq63JJKhF1RyYxG1bspdOdBK3Lns/s320/a05+alcazar.JPG" /></a></div>
Another major site in town is the royal palace, the Alcazar. This palace was designed for Christian kings, but in a Moorish (Islamic) style. And what style!<br><br>
I've really only recently encountered much Islamic art, but I find it completely enchanting. One of the tenets is a representation of God's infiniteness in complex geometric patterns, which I find both aesteticly and intellectually pleasing. It is both a gorgeous pattern to the eye and a representation of God as math and order.
<br><br>The entire public space of the palace is decorated elaborately, and I have literally hundreds of pictures of its floors walls and ceilings.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Go1kJGW9K1eC6a32STxA0XMuGEVlMDC35HM7bAWqxceZu8SHq4qbtp4RIHPYIaJuli0yxxKnIeOAHH-HJ-O5qPL3R21F_r16GOp5GXxrE_hxBnrqczbtIa8yRVdmcpaOqYGvyzd17q8/s1600/a06+alcazar+garden.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Go1kJGW9K1eC6a32STxA0XMuGEVlMDC35HM7bAWqxceZu8SHq4qbtp4RIHPYIaJuli0yxxKnIeOAHH-HJ-O5qPL3R21F_r16GOp5GXxrE_hxBnrqczbtIa8yRVdmcpaOqYGvyzd17q8/s320/a06+alcazar+garden.JPG" /></a></div>Outside are extensive gardens which also delight. Closer in to the palace there are more structured gardens and as you get further from it they get more rambling. Thankfully they are full of cover to shelter one from rain, should they be unlucky enough to vacation at the same time as us.
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaR0Fdj4JCxYkri6P0nUuY_BXhgkN_PU3WMUaMLjfKVZHwT7XJ57hpV1hW65DB0ODsMlfpJ_CF2URUo3pB_i7LpuI8-9BKlmyQM6JH9xE8lsdc1FczEa025mrFXdz65sljvxnrPr0r4s/s1600/a07+flamenco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaR0Fdj4JCxYkri6P0nUuY_BXhgkN_PU3WMUaMLjfKVZHwT7XJ57hpV1hW65DB0ODsMlfpJ_CF2URUo3pB_i7LpuI8-9BKlmyQM6JH9xE8lsdc1FczEa025mrFXdz65sljvxnrPr0r4s/s320/a07+flamenco.jpg" /></a></div>
Seville is a city of soul. It's a city of flamenco. Flamenco comes from a blend of Andalusian and gypsy folk music and dancing, and Seville is a center for it. In Vienna you can't swing a Sacher Torte without having a man dressed as Mozart offer to sell you tickets to a classical concert; in Seville it's a flamenco show.<br><br>
Our guidebook had a few suggestions for slightly more authentic shows, so we went for it. It's a very cool thing to see, very soulful and at turns mournful and aggressive. We quite enjoyed it. Our book also suggested a few bars we could go to late at night to see spontaneous flamenco break out, but we really don't think that's a thing.<br><br>
<tr><td>
Oh, bullfighting. Bullfighting is in many ways an integral part of the area's culture, if a controversial one. I actually feel somewhat ambivalent about it -- I can see how it's cruel and unfair to the animals, but on the other hand I know full well where my steak comes from and have no problem with that. Is bullfighting that much more cruel than raising cattle for food?<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjWCH6z2ffwSk7BX75U3LbnQndS1jHIz3K0ATsXMREkGWrFtDS17GeoASev8Q0v3qDbsEUWG15F2k5mBIeySLhaxqAu4tIVapHUCh76Ol32XKBltAbJHR66aohKo4yxi6OmkrOu8Rb_Xo/s1600/a08+bullring.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjWCH6z2ffwSk7BX75U3LbnQndS1jHIz3K0ATsXMREkGWrFtDS17GeoASev8Q0v3qDbsEUWG15F2k5mBIeySLhaxqAu4tIVapHUCh76Ol32XKBltAbJHR66aohKo4yxi6OmkrOu8Rb_Xo/s400/a08+bullring.JPG" /></a></div>
<br>We didn't go to a match, but we did go to the museum at the arena. While the event sprung from a similar tradition to jousting, the arena reminded us a lot of the Colosseum in Rome. The museum was informative and well laid out, but I don't think it resolved my feelings on the sport.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8G2qgkZpYXiRbZlp-9veVbUbkhtjLcvwlBF2_FpS2PoRr8AYQ74-OctV1HQAOlHKnGf6MMuGHptynUYdoV006Mdf69nmkZ4FV8S5eo5NSVV70Hae63jsoxwH41uRdEOOlYKp5dlcyOLQ/s1600/a10+us.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8G2qgkZpYXiRbZlp-9veVbUbkhtjLcvwlBF2_FpS2PoRr8AYQ74-OctV1HQAOlHKnGf6MMuGHptynUYdoV006Mdf69nmkZ4FV8S5eo5NSVV70Hae63jsoxwH41uRdEOOlYKp5dlcyOLQ/s320/a10+us.JPG" /></a></div>
The food in Seville was great, though we did struggle a bit to acclimate to the hours. Lunch is from one to four with kitchens opening at eight for dinner, but we kept finding ourselves in need of a snack at 5. Very frustrating. Thankfully, most of the pastry shops stay open all day. We tried many local specialties, including cookies made with "hair of the angels" and a special bread pudding with honey they only make during Holy Week -- all were great.<br><br>
We also enjoyed the tapas again, especially a place we went on the last night. It was a bit dauntingly filled with people who actually knew Spanish, but we managed to order and consume some great food. We also witnessed the waitress and a patron singing together, which made us think that we may have been wrong about that spontaneous Flamenco thing.<br><br>
<tr><td>Overall it was a fantastic trip, full of experiences that felt very unique to the place. As always when visiting a locale like this I came away with a renewed desire to live in a place with casual attitude and indoor/outdoor living. And, as always happens, I immediately walked myself through all the impracticalities of that as a life for us. Oh well, we'll always have Seville.
</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-42158600521213178312014-04-13T05:33:00.002-05:002014-04-13T05:33:52.032-05:00Dinner in Vienna With the World's Most Huggable Man<table><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-DUiMxtdzF6rYlXFcTdIhHF5CWaP-QOqk3OBnr-a33QCjX0kSaWLRBr26orhsLXvE2uFJhcaaawHq8XfuHjQQtbGtV8Y0PG6pRjDdKEYsRcIhbsLqn1kW8NKJhbSTt3AARqj2xA1g1Y/s1600/01+Viena.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-DUiMxtdzF6rYlXFcTdIhHF5CWaP-QOqk3OBnr-a33QCjX0kSaWLRBr26orhsLXvE2uFJhcaaawHq8XfuHjQQtbGtV8Y0PG6pRjDdKEYsRcIhbsLqn1kW8NKJhbSTt3AARqj2xA1g1Y/s400/01+Viena.JPG" /></a></div>Last weekend we headed out to Vienna. Most of what we know about Vienna comes for a series of books set before World War One in which a psychiatrist and a police detective solve crimes whilst eating lots and lots of pastries. Surprisingly it mostly met our expectations, minus the ritual murders.<br><br>
We were struck when we arrived by how super modern the airport and train station were and even had a sit-down dinner to try to embrace the cafe culture of the city. Unlike in Munich, we managed to find the hotel without any hi jinks, though we did have to walk around the block to find the entrance.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOMFmhpSwZOqugVQ0dhnJ5PCCZkOfWa4Olf27KcwCK5zygS-GZVcfqB3wuUZDQf_8fv1WY6CEbE5TrJ6Snn_BdmqlUXnba9GpDebRewMGL-HI_9IVWWD59rUDGTeWlEd5nthLt0xIkNk4/s1600/02+war+memorial.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOMFmhpSwZOqugVQ0dhnJ5PCCZkOfWa4Olf27KcwCK5zygS-GZVcfqB3wuUZDQf_8fv1WY6CEbE5TrJ6Snn_BdmqlUXnba9GpDebRewMGL-HI_9IVWWD59rUDGTeWlEd5nthLt0xIkNk4/s400/02+war+memorial.JPG" /></a></div>Out first day was planned for lots of walking and the weather played along beautifully. We started with a self guided city walk, taking us by the very striking war memorial. It turns out that Austria (and Vienna in particular) were mad for Nazism, so the reminder probably does them good.<br><br>
Having spent much of our travels this year in nations that were strongly on the wrong side of World War 2 has actually been pretty thought provoking. I know that there are darker times in American history as well, but the fact that the holocaust could happen continues to confound me.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcCBmfE-tZhVHRlr_ahgb1YkdhglbmhZhp9V_cYEsJYBF2WcHsPfM_u-NpDtczV9ehTx5rILy5dL6ERgXcIhoMGHgkgyRKdroSZy602ccWeEO-4lIPdUf2wrFAzOz-21EPW6XlhcIeiwU/s1600/03+Stevens.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcCBmfE-tZhVHRlr_ahgb1YkdhglbmhZhp9V_cYEsJYBF2WcHsPfM_u-NpDtczV9ehTx5rILy5dL6ERgXcIhoMGHgkgyRKdroSZy602ccWeEO-4lIPdUf2wrFAzOz-21EPW6XlhcIeiwU/s400/03+Stevens.JPG" /></a></div>We paused for coffee and a snack, then it was onward to a tower climb at the main church in the center of town, St Stephens.<br><br>
It was a nice climb and afforded good views of the city and of the cool tiles roof of the church (which, naturally, was bombed in World War II and then replaced later.)<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdkg_jAv7BZnbr0D3titUam20TW3iQB742isqBclOKAeTvRpR1fXqY40YbjbxpCOepKCSXHD_bjCmqq1EG6tMq5L1hdJyY3f0kYljlmrlqsgp4u57ydYrc_NmB4qE4IKUISqcVltxx0w/s1600/04+pulpit.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNdkg_jAv7BZnbr0D3titUam20TW3iQB742isqBclOKAeTvRpR1fXqY40YbjbxpCOepKCSXHD_bjCmqq1EG6tMq5L1hdJyY3f0kYljlmrlqsgp4u57ydYrc_NmB4qE4IKUISqcVltxx0w/s400/04+pulpit.JPG" /></a></div>Inside, the church was Gothic and cool, with the highlight being an ornately carved pulpit. They also had some amazing stained glass, though there was no chance of my photos of that coming out.<br><br>
All this sightseeing made us hungry, so it was time for another snack, this time pretzel bread rolls. So good.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHYqat9c2OSAwHXJz1grBQqt7nX36u_GRcg9IHhXqMLplpTPsfqeGWpcMbxRJS5yiYeRQ0IIZWoBTwWAkBUQuZWSPdYjpBnukYL0LREchuIjFuwiML4tccEKytBraxU7_BwE-efD0kRHc/s1600/05+st+peters.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHYqat9c2OSAwHXJz1grBQqt7nX36u_GRcg9IHhXqMLplpTPsfqeGWpcMbxRJS5yiYeRQ0IIZWoBTwWAkBUQuZWSPdYjpBnukYL0LREchuIjFuwiML4tccEKytBraxU7_BwE-efD0kRHc/s400/05+st+peters.JPG" /></a></div>Our next stop on our walk was the baroque church of St. Peter. We see very few baroque churches, so this one stood out to us quite a bit. It was very ornate, and had many small and large details that reminded us of ornately carved ships like you would see in a pirate movie.<br><br>
With all of the churches that we have seen in Europe and England, it always amazes us to see one that feels totally different and new to us.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm0HcgvJQEBntW7LhgRlO1PYQtlqw79TheNiLE1zAPXd42XpZz_hkmBRaBr2IsZyC0isayaANUqQrtITZVKV2Imd9uJZd9JpM5YUS2UxYU9UWhtFSODw8lMSPSLQREjNry56L9qmIJngs/s1600/06+palace+exterior.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm0HcgvJQEBntW7LhgRlO1PYQtlqw79TheNiLE1zAPXd42XpZz_hkmBRaBr2IsZyC0isayaANUqQrtITZVKV2Imd9uJZd9JpM5YUS2UxYU9UWhtFSODw8lMSPSLQREjNry56L9qmIJngs/s400/06+palace+exterior.JPG" /></a></div>We finished up the walk by passing through the grounds if the Habsburg palace, which we would visit on Sunday. This is a whole compound of palaces, government buildings, and museums built by a family that ruled the region for hundreds of years. Both the reign and the palace were quite impressive.<br><br>
Lunch was a fun adventure. The place had a display case full of open-face sandwiches consisting of bread rectangles spread with various fillings. You pick out the three or four that strike you and then shoulder your way to a table. We also got a pfif each, which was a small beer served in a cup-sized beer mug. Fun!<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_j6Yy-2n-Zann0WJG8V6WyyUGtazCgHVSFoNtq_BRRUR3gG4YWP6cvS0NbFydo_S9ukZQLoCKSVzB8rGq7-4ziCNJV5tm97-rIEqNc3hF5veTKq6LZq0cad2AclPbdJXS4WPuH87I2rQ/s1600/07+park.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_j6Yy-2n-Zann0WJG8V6WyyUGtazCgHVSFoNtq_BRRUR3gG4YWP6cvS0NbFydo_S9ukZQLoCKSVzB8rGq7-4ziCNJV5tm97-rIEqNc3hF5veTKq6LZq0cad2AclPbdJXS4WPuH87I2rQ/s400/07+park.JPG" /></a></div>After lunch we took advantage of the weather with a long walk in the park which turned into a walk by a series of ever growing canals. The first was so small and had so little water that I expected to see T-birds racing hot rods down it. At one point I pointed out a duck struggling against the current, only to realized he was standing in ankle deep (to him) water. Stupid duck.<br><br>
We grabbed a refreshing and gigantic glass of wine in the evening, and were still tipsy for dinner, which was at a nice restaurant in the old greenhouse of the Habsburg palace. The highlight was the wine-induced people watching. A man walked in the door early in the meal and was hugged by no fewer than five employees and two patrons. Oh, the time we had, the worlds most hug-able (and second most rub-able!) man and I. At least in the stories I annoyed Mary with.<br><br>
<tr><td>And now my Tripadvisor review of sitting in a hotel bathroom in Vienna trying to quietly fix a broken production job at two in the morning: Not recommended.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqv8Q_OQhNbASZ_RXnz_pNy8tp3uIy6VbKeDR9sx4AtUf9J28hPKUffhtcxBvfnuNXdXxt8bRL6s_GYf7QYejHOCUtKeXQLeyBsi76kZoiAtBVwbW3RaAkyjhSTSUNRe_itTig_75488/s1600/07+treasury.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvqv8Q_OQhNbASZ_RXnz_pNy8tp3uIy6VbKeDR9sx4AtUf9J28hPKUffhtcxBvfnuNXdXxt8bRL6s_GYf7QYejHOCUtKeXQLeyBsi76kZoiAtBVwbW3RaAkyjhSTSUNRe_itTig_75488/s400/07+treasury.JPG" /></a></div>Day two found rain in the air, so we planned for two indoor activities: Museums and cafes. The entire morning was spent in the various museums of the Habsburg palace, and started with the treasury.
<br><br>Unlike the one in Munich, this one was as focused on volume as it was on historical significance. We generally aren't big ones for bling, but seeing so much of it laid out in one place is pretty striking. It's also the only museum where we could take pictures, sadly.<br><br>
From the treasury we went through an interesting and long exhibit on Sisi, the tragic wife of Emperor Franz Joseph I. That spilled out into the royal apartments, which were pretty standard-issue as those things go but still a nice display. They seemed to have more of the original furnishings than some others we had seen, so that was cool.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDlSdCr40s006ox4RGs_ELqN9gylQRRUwMFttH-QWD6fiCV_VY3bkKA2uJB6BWw8s9QVj7WoYyw38KgxDzZr74BX7LIov0vyDJvaczf2oU6r84ooYXGSQlB6VAvuOWkCyXTD4lVgyMuow/s1600/08+signs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDlSdCr40s006ox4RGs_ELqN9gylQRRUwMFttH-QWD6fiCV_VY3bkKA2uJB6BWw8s9QVj7WoYyw38KgxDzZr74BX7LIov0vyDJvaczf2oU6r84ooYXGSQlB6VAvuOWkCyXTD4lVgyMuow/s400/08+signs.jpg" /></a></div>Having had a fair amount of history at this point, but still having some time before we needed to leave, I convinced Mary into hitting the museum of modern art with me. I am pretty convinced she only gave in because it was called 'MOMAK'. We had a nice time and I was incredibly taken with the building, which was very striking. Sadly, I didn't take any pictures of it at the time so here is a collage of signs and pavement markings that amused us during our visit.<br><br>
Overall it was a great trip. The city was hugely walkable, we had great weather for our outdoor day, and the cafes delivered both great coffee and great pastries.
</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-86948444127138156102014-02-23T12:30:00.001-06:002014-02-23T12:30:09.327-06:00Beer, Wurst, and Michael Jackson<table border=0><tr><td>Last weekend we finally broke the seal on Germany with a trip to Munich.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb3cRehrm9yORe14Es1NZkYAh-g8BqvzpsVOBpj2PTh7B7bBbYSLEdYUwobc14ZuDXjX94PZA5YH6y9ydwuSgWtXHvjLEn9deaU09BrHX7WAmxFr4T8GAoOWQhtqJeWLWx7-QCxCbfnmE/s1600/01+elevator.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb3cRehrm9yORe14Es1NZkYAh-g8BqvzpsVOBpj2PTh7B7bBbYSLEdYUwobc14ZuDXjX94PZA5YH6y9ydwuSgWtXHvjLEn9deaU09BrHX7WAmxFr4T8GAoOWQhtqJeWLWx7-QCxCbfnmE/s320/01+elevator.jpg" /></a></div>We got in very late and were a bit concerned about figuring out train connections into town. It turns out that this was a well founded concern, but a friendly fellow passenger took pity on us and got us onto the proper trains.<br><br>
Following the exit signs at the Munich station brought us to an elevator straight out of a Michael J Fox movie from the eighties, where he gets separated from his school trip and mistaken for a spy and has romantic hijinks while helping an attractive East German teenager defect. We had a few wrong turns on the way to he hotel but eventually made it.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC1N0jnYDM-c_9c1oGHg_87oJC_g7ojwqe-SDgAS8URagkMS5z74-wsdG3wvMVmhyMJYCX-IwB5tL4ULGYohkUk13438oT4hQc5A06JfMTGUGWhmGURDpkrpJaVmbGOD78QuuHKIw79O0/s1600/02+Georg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC1N0jnYDM-c_9c1oGHg_87oJC_g7ojwqe-SDgAS8URagkMS5z74-wsdG3wvMVmhyMJYCX-IwB5tL4ULGYohkUk13438oT4hQc5A06JfMTGUGWhmGURDpkrpJaVmbGOD78QuuHKIw79O0/s320/02+Georg.JPG" /></a></div>Our first major site was the Residenz museum and treasury. Usually treasuries do very little for us, but this one was very well laid out and cool. It's amazing how ornate religious work was back in the day, and seeing the fine detail up close was impressive.<br><br>
We also discovered that St George (the patron saint of pretty much everywhere) was probably fake. As his patron-saint-of-everywhere-ness is a running gag between Mary and I, this was a pretty astonishing discovery.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh74RlkH8mvEWXHSIDllSJma4xeY6f78NbyfNPH-kDunS82qYQze3li8J22cxbVDrF0AjR4S8R0lD0QJLOgWVKOM2DQxFzZSr1quffmKNzWY7Jd51UQUhm5IOHBa76DD3Eama74DaECDWI/s1600/03+Residenz.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh74RlkH8mvEWXHSIDllSJma4xeY6f78NbyfNPH-kDunS82qYQze3li8J22cxbVDrF0AjR4S8R0lD0QJLOgWVKOM2DQxFzZSr1quffmKNzWY7Jd51UQUhm5IOHBa76DD3Eama74DaECDWI/s320/03+Residenz.JPG" /></a></div>The palace itself was interesting, though mostly just huge with ninety rooms (many of which were reconstructions.)<br><br>
As Mary said, the problem with palaces that model themselves after Versailles is that once you have seen Versailles, they tend to get a little same-y. Do your own thing, palaces! Fight palace peer pressure!<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8eoBs4at64KvkZQyud6ii7kDUGfaZ-sYUbN-FMKJmMsMT5WtByaQHOIKzRchCrhJoFp5K7FHAxys4mRtvNCsJNLzqUvllz9jHRkxcKUoDTXIuJGc_mDmcyS9VvKJ9FqjONHU1zF5TkY/s1600/04+View.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv8eoBs4at64KvkZQyud6ii7kDUGfaZ-sYUbN-FMKJmMsMT5WtByaQHOIKzRchCrhJoFp5K7FHAxys4mRtvNCsJNLzqUvllz9jHRkxcKUoDTXIuJGc_mDmcyS9VvKJ9FqjONHU1zF5TkY/s320/04+View.JPG" /></a></div>After a lunch break of wurst (served with fries and a delicious curry ketchup) we headed off for a self-guided city walk. This took us by several cool churches and a city museum. We are usually fans of these local history museums, but this one was a bit stuffy and lacked good English descriptions.<br><br>
We also did a tower climb, as we are wont to do, and got some great views of the city. The tower was also fairly recently reconstructed, though it still had staircases that really couldn't handle the two-way traffic they were accommodating.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUQk_5xhz3iEmKpU93ECMkkVGb2vbqv5rQnCKT-R_07yxD5efY1fsuUZ-9LEBw2rEa92ZTj3i44yun4LPcLBnSyk0Nq_D0l00PTnJwQDj_v-gH8F2iqlgRUV2bIvuUYPWmewLsVg459Q/s1600/05+Brauhaus.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwUQk_5xhz3iEmKpU93ECMkkVGb2vbqv5rQnCKT-R_07yxD5efY1fsuUZ-9LEBw2rEa92ZTj3i44yun4LPcLBnSyk0Nq_D0l00PTnJwQDj_v-gH8F2iqlgRUV2bIvuUYPWmewLsVg459Q/s320/05+Brauhaus.JPG" /></a></div>Old buildings in Munich are odder than usual, because almost all of the city was heavily damaged or destroyed during World War Two. In the Residenz, almost every single room's placard pointed out that it was heavily damaged in the forties and that most of what we were seeing was reconstructions of original rooms and furniture.<br><br>
Each of the churches we visited had photos of the bomb damage, which was quite sobering. It's difficult not to think of all the damage to culturally significant works that was done by our side, but on the other hand...Nazis.<br><br>
Speaking of Nazis, we spent Saturday morning at Dachau. In he interests of keeping this light I won't go into too much on that, other than to say I am very glad we visited. It has a well laid-out museum and several memorials, and was deeply moving and thought provoking. We opted not to take each others' picture by the ovens, unlike one of our co-visitors.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdMqpTmkWXalYubfdD7LJ0WskY6AUKzwoQpuUgRHb5Ev31HRWMQahgNhBLDZVNEvdactOvRQkLkNmZKKFl7T8Bvogl7eRmcVjEhM32uOh5LFZ_IaDD0pnvzCW7-BiOzMF29Awa-y6MyTA/s1600/06+MJ.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdMqpTmkWXalYubfdD7LJ0WskY6AUKzwoQpuUgRHb5Ev31HRWMQahgNhBLDZVNEvdactOvRQkLkNmZKKFl7T8Bvogl7eRmcVjEhM32uOh5LFZ_IaDD0pnvzCW7-BiOzMF29Awa-y6MyTA/s320/06+MJ.JPG" /></a></div>In the afternoon we finished up the rest of our city walk, hitting a few more churches and grabbing some snacks. We also hit a good art museum, and the strangest site of our visit: The Michael Jackson memorial.<br><br>
Apparently he always stayed at the same hotel, and since his death, fans have been leaving offerings in the small part out front. It's bizarre, but touching. We did feel a bit bad for the now ignored composer whose statue was commandeered.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Wb_fIotjbG5Njyn82jMpJidcS9ffrpmX5SQLmaeS4YyVFzJmwZ05oPzXu_Zj1WYTYTawkPsx_PCEnFWsccDm6IoQGuJSuVBwCG2eNyX7b5LlfqhfN53aZ3tItZyO6CGjuBY5CA6-2fc/s1600/07+Walk.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-Wb_fIotjbG5Njyn82jMpJidcS9ffrpmX5SQLmaeS4YyVFzJmwZ05oPzXu_Zj1WYTYTawkPsx_PCEnFWsccDm6IoQGuJSuVBwCG2eNyX7b5LlfqhfN53aZ3tItZyO6CGjuBY5CA6-2fc/s320/07+Walk.JPG" /></a></div>Munich ended up being a great food city. Pretzels and donuts (such good donuts) were plentiful, and dinners were heavily meat-centric. I could see the heaviness of the dinner food getting old on a long trip, but for just a weekend it was great. The beer was also very good, and I could see coming back in the summer to enjoy a few in one of the many beer gardens.<br><br>
At breakfast on our final morning we spotted a waiter carrying a beer on a platter, and watched with great anticipation to see which frat brother or pot-bellied man would get it. We were delighted to see it delivered to a small old German woman reading the paper. Stay awesome, Munich!
</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-76699652216862916092014-02-09T07:29:00.000-06:002014-02-09T07:29:55.418-06:00London Year One<table border=0><tr><td>We have officially lived in London for one year, so it seems like a good time to look back and reflect on some of the plans and questions we had when moving here to see how it's going.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCQ2GMMNXmtS4WnpRzNNpPci7-DdKxjT0V5hVGIXD-fzGtBJk0xiDYl-CBQ1AYnZRyn6t9d-QiVQBVHDBi-2kdYfhI_qOZfKxUsVDgCiwVc1bsOz9mJME_pN1CI8vBo8l5uZh7xYV1ge8/s1600/Gerhkin.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCQ2GMMNXmtS4WnpRzNNpPci7-DdKxjT0V5hVGIXD-fzGtBJk0xiDYl-CBQ1AYnZRyn6t9d-QiVQBVHDBi-2kdYfhI_qOZfKxUsVDgCiwVc1bsOz9mJME_pN1CI8vBo8l5uZh7xYV1ge8/s320/Gerhkin.JPG" /></a></div><b>Live British</b><br>
One of my goals for the trip was to attempt to live British. We often hear of folks moving to another country and then looking for the most American experience they can find there. I wanted to at least attempt to live as the locals do. This has lead to many surprises with gas meters and grocery stores, but I do feel that it has added to the adventure of it all.<br><br>
We are doing fairly well on this front. I have gotten used to writing my dates backwards and I think that I am very close to a breakthrough on 24-hour time. We know a few common conversions from F to C and back. We know how to pay on a pub. I know how much one stone weighs (14 pounds, for what it's worth.)<br><br>
<b>Going digital</b><br>
When figuring out what all to bring, I made some bold statements about having less stuff and going digital on more things. We did indeed leave our books behind, and have mostly stuck with e-books on the Kindle (though we can't resist <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Mary-Roach/e/B001H6MAHM/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1391945887&sr=1-2-ent">Mary Roach's</a> footnotes and silly pictures in physical form.) I have also (mostly) broken my desire to own physical copies of music media, though I will admit to buying a few CDs from particularly beloved artists. Mostly I have embraced Spotify as a good way to listen to music, though there is a part of me that still wants to run out and buy the physical discs from some of the artists I have discovered there.<br><br>
I had planned to move most of our video watching to streaming, but we've made less progress on that front. Rather than sign up for NetFlix here we went for a local option, though we later found out that Amazon had purchased them. I find that the steaming options are pretty limited, though we do use it when we can (we still get discs for the rest). From hearing friends in the US talk, it seems like limited (legal) options is at least a bit of an issue there as well.<br><br>
<b>Have less stuff</b><br>
Overall we had planned to have less stuff here. On some fronts (books, CDs) that has worked out well, on others less so. Some of the items that we thought we could live without (toaster, microwave) we eventually relented on and bought anyway. Some of our American stuff just fundamentally doesn't work here (lamps, our too large sofa) and so more appropriate local solutions were procured (thank goodness for Ikea). It's unclear how much of this will come back to America wit us, so we'll call this one a wash.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFCteCIwOqu4HZog5P32QRL0kaP1mxMDDe0YuPaaOhWMKvR9Y6gPm0yMEdneXPf287vTQDmQ_Gv-QX4y7U8qjzLCSKCGNX7jrNBr8xtQkORaPZl2rF4fpUvFcCfqEiG6dfbgP2wlxzvis/s1600/Shard.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFCteCIwOqu4HZog5P32QRL0kaP1mxMDDe0YuPaaOhWMKvR9Y6gPm0yMEdneXPf287vTQDmQ_Gv-QX4y7U8qjzLCSKCGNX7jrNBr8xtQkORaPZl2rF4fpUvFcCfqEiG6dfbgP2wlxzvis/s320/Shard.JPG" /></a></div><b>Will we pick up British terms?</b><br>
We all knew that pretentious kid in school who spent two weeks in England one summer and came back with an affected British accent. While we didn't want to be That Guy, I was curious to what extent we would pick up local slang and sayings. We have acquired more than I expected to, but none of the very prototypical ones.<br><br>
Both Mary and I have started saying 'proper' when in America we would say 'real' as in, "It's impossible to find proper American bacon in British restaurants." I have started pronouncing 'weekend' the British way (with the stress on 'end' rather than 'week') which I attribute to all the small talk about weekends one does at work; Mary, conversely, works with very few British people which is why she has not picked this up and mocks me for it.<br><br>
We don't say 'quid' for 'pound', though we do say 'P' instead of 'pence'. While I know when you would use quid since it's almost exactly like using 'buck' for 'dollar', I am so used to saying 'buck' that I just blaze through and use that. I have said 'cheers' exactly once and it still felt very weird (even though I was IMing with a Brit.)<br><br>
<b>How will the cats do?</b><br>
After a few days to get over the trauma of the transportation, the cats are completely unaware that anything has changed.</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-8049001688106721242014-01-27T13:31:00.002-06:002014-01-27T13:31:56.514-06:00I Survived (sort of) Skiing The Alps (sort of)<table border=0><tr><td>In theory the main point of our Zurich trip was for Mary to attend her company Christmas party, though in reality we were most looking forward to <a href="http://www.flumserberg.ch/Winter-en/Home-en">our alpine adventure</a>.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRP9-I1iy2O3F_-2-NKIZPpSIhTEKssAQsHqX9xFzNPIW_Jyz9gb9Xw3omeotRqXTEw2C-9mYgMrWImSk-hm-6IfL-PWfzHtcELFkiDRb2HfRX2b_3sT4NQk8Ui8l0ElZDL0cHmhjeoA/s1600/01+Zurich.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJRP9-I1iy2O3F_-2-NKIZPpSIhTEKssAQsHqX9xFzNPIW_Jyz9gb9Xw3omeotRqXTEw2C-9mYgMrWImSk-hm-6IfL-PWfzHtcELFkiDRb2HfRX2b_3sT4NQk8Ui8l0ElZDL0cHmhjeoA/s320/01+Zurich.JPG" /></a></div>We flew in on Friday and spent the late afternoon wandering the old town. We had hoped to see the Chagall windows in one of the city's churches, but just missed their closing time. We did make it into the Grossmunster though, and they had several windows that were impressive in their own right. Several were heavily influenced by contemporary art, and a few were formed from sliced geodes. All around it was a pleasant surprise.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXxOgyF-xpDWk8aG7eIzR0htL8CQti5rAmQUCo-LA12ulaV2GJFPiLbnK4JXZ0F3XHPwGt6LsqDPw3mzRH4ujfrvRyDAbyZbx92hGgWe1sni8qyqreR-3urJ7sFZLNOQN5c-KylIFrpyM/s1600/02+Train.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXxOgyF-xpDWk8aG7eIzR0htL8CQti5rAmQUCo-LA12ulaV2GJFPiLbnK4JXZ0F3XHPwGt6LsqDPw3mzRH4ujfrvRyDAbyZbx92hGgWe1sni8qyqreR-3urJ7sFZLNOQN5c-KylIFrpyM/s400/02+Train.JPG" /></a></div>I stayed in Friday night to try to recover a bit more from my cold, and by Saturday morning I was feeling much improved. <br><br>Several of Mary's coworkers went into the alps with us, including two who had stayed out until two am the night before. Hardcore considering that we took an eight AM train.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiml0A1YRbuPwLQQ7j5_YwsSYvBm2AR-9nK3gE6typpymXDJ-92v-ZEO0wUeqEzuTTAyKG3GHQpSuCfn75Cc7SUPVr4yv86pFhXBSi0exUMNiMQKydU4EvrT0_bju9iOchOyvYI9lM0fUA/s1600/03+Train.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiml0A1YRbuPwLQQ7j5_YwsSYvBm2AR-9nK3gE6typpymXDJ-92v-ZEO0wUeqEzuTTAyKG3GHQpSuCfn75Cc7SUPVr4yv86pFhXBSi0exUMNiMQKydU4EvrT0_bju9iOchOyvYI9lM0fUA/s400/03+Train.JPG" /></a></div>The train ride along the Wallensee was gorgeous. As we entered the alps, mountains sprang up around us and seemed to grow straight up from the sea. Early during the trip we worried that there might not be snow, but altitude came through for us in the end. <br><br>A short bus trip from the train brought us to be base of the mountain, and a short gondola ride to the top.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI5t6FCjpKDRt-KEY0WGqTICw_6wF1Omr8EITXOvUQOVYj0DexUNUHdFWmbGYmuYG3mSB354HOKqQyUAIS-aQo-Smk5vQGubd25HsDGu56RxrPgdUXOgVy_xRa9ZrsOREaylwf1vyg2wk/s1600/04+Gondola.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI5t6FCjpKDRt-KEY0WGqTICw_6wF1Omr8EITXOvUQOVYj0DexUNUHdFWmbGYmuYG3mSB354HOKqQyUAIS-aQo-Smk5vQGubd25HsDGu56RxrPgdUXOgVy_xRa9ZrsOREaylwf1vyg2wk/s400/04+Gondola.JPG" /></a></div>The gondolas were modestly-sized, eight person affairs and reminded us a lot of old James Bond movies. We giggled over the fact that they needed a trap door in the ceiling and that I should photoshop myself on top of one with a machine gun, though who knows what the Swiss Germans in the car thought of us (a surprising number of folks in Zurich and at the ski resort didn't speak English.)<br><br>
Having never gone skiing outdoors before, we really had no idea what to expect. The first thing that struck us was that skiing was all about lines. The line for lift tickets. The line for gondola tickets. The line for rentals. Things did move pretty quickly though and we soon realized that it was just a snow themed amusement park. This we could get our minds around.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBRrYAF7rAVphpFh31lEkIBxl4mhTHI3HaAO_EaOtQsg9GHax4jaghPYAcgU_hzeO_ks5_uFPKq5uaxgdyb-pohNUBRDozxlTSKQxkrkeFJ7w5c57N7fjqMCtGmJY5p2BbSm68AHh9c_A/s1600/05+Beginner.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBRrYAF7rAVphpFh31lEkIBxl4mhTHI3HaAO_EaOtQsg9GHax4jaghPYAcgU_hzeO_ks5_uFPKq5uaxgdyb-pohNUBRDozxlTSKQxkrkeFJ7w5c57N7fjqMCtGmJY5p2BbSm68AHh9c_A/s400/05+Beginner.JPG" /></a></div>Sadly our first ski almost ended our ski careers before they began. We had asked at the rental place where was a good place for beginners to start, and ended up with our first run being beyond our capability. We fumbled and stumbled our way down, both of us spending plenty of time on our butts. I am pretty sure that I was one helmet shy of a severe concussion after a particularly bad fall, but we eventually got back to solid ground.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTC9mNKByMaj0BP_v413J-2AssBRiib67TypFYWD7o_uxXqxtndmIDRrIVNKRoWAcA0rpw7sohBs8oV1ns3ou5XXyUmBrWf74uXundj6HAZ1HYqzY5ti3NAL56YYk6ajBATwzztQ7Ywo/s1600/06+Blue.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvTC9mNKByMaj0BP_v413J-2AssBRiib67TypFYWD7o_uxXqxtndmIDRrIVNKRoWAcA0rpw7sohBs8oV1ns3ou5XXyUmBrWf74uXundj6HAZ1HYqzY5ti3NAL56YYk6ajBATwzztQ7Ywo/s400/06+Blue.JPG" /></a></div>Thankfully we made our way to the real beginners area shortly thereafter and got a bit more practice in with the Swiss toddlers (and a few adults taking beginners lessons). By the end of the day I was feeling confident enough to try a blue (beginner) run again, and this time made it down entirely on my skis!<br><br>
Having managed to recover from the bad start, we agreed that this is probably a hobby we will stick with, at least casually. We have a year until the next Christmas party, so hopefully by then we will have learned enough to not have anybody fall off the T-bar lift. Baby steps!<br><br></table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-52600836481976807822014-01-20T15:33:00.002-06:002014-01-20T15:33:58.950-06:00Indoor Skiing<table border=0><tr><td>Next weekend Mary and I will be heading to Zurich for her company's Christmas party which places us quite near the alps. We've discussed learning to ski in the past but never quite pulled the trigger, so this seemed like a good tome to do so. That said, it also seems absurd to get to the alps having never put on skis before. Enter the <a href="http://www.thesnowcentre.com/">Snow Centre</a> (their spelling, not mine.)<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBOdmfbPzEnvITZKIylpLJTcM42W05ad1t6mvQ7cPIrFHMLN39uIAF7FNMzO94IgIGXsatKMDsva58FDvIGpMW-ciwglMUgJHK_zd1GzwRDUt0AP-sRiIIVDlI1Vrn3jNaC5AkbHDXj4s/s1600/01+SmallSlope.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBOdmfbPzEnvITZKIylpLJTcM42W05ad1t6mvQ7cPIrFHMLN39uIAF7FNMzO94IgIGXsatKMDsva58FDvIGpMW-ciwglMUgJHK_zd1GzwRDUt0AP-sRiIIVDlI1Vrn3jNaC5AkbHDXj4s/s320/01+SmallSlope.JPG" /></a></div>The Snow Centre is an indoor skiing facility a bit north of London. Indoor skiing! This seemed like it could kill two birds with one stone, in that we could learn the basics in a lower pressure (and cheaper) setting and also get to say that we've skied indoors. Win win!<br><br>
Sadly we did have some issues getting there as our Google directions assumed that it would take no time to make one of our transit connections. Thanks Google! We ended up taking a cab for a shocking cost and just barely arriving in time for the lesson.<br><br>
From the outside, the place was unassuming and looked like a slightly upmarket big box store. It reminds most of the old Home Depot Expo stores, which Mary and I actually miss quite a bit. Once inside there were areas for registration, rental equipment, and changing, and then a huge cavernous space with the actual snow. Snow! Indoors!<br><br>
We were in a group lesson that started with the putting on of skis and built from there. We learned how to walk uphill and stand on an incline, the proper posture and weight distribution, and humility. Both Mary and I felt great relief when someone else was the first to fall, since we knew it was just a matter of time before we each did.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6eVRCT9ShED4xq4pG5ZBKeEpnOI6AhWEOR33hOArDbHhn5VXi1ZXd_hRIMOmLbQ-kPjtGXchs9VDsAdFDtNxnOxCziKjeunA77IKolslnl4KyO58vtkB3V8RRWgMGZQnRlf3kmMjIoL4/s1600/02+WiderView.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6eVRCT9ShED4xq4pG5ZBKeEpnOI6AhWEOR33hOArDbHhn5VXi1ZXd_hRIMOmLbQ-kPjtGXchs9VDsAdFDtNxnOxCziKjeunA77IKolslnl4KyO58vtkB3V8RRWgMGZQnRlf3kmMjIoL4/s320/02+WiderView.JPG" /></a></div>After the basics we got working on coming down the smaller hill in a controlled way. It's not a very natural posture, and because of my height I had very long skis and struggled a bit with the 'snowplow' technique. Once we were reasonably comfortable with that we moved on to stopping and then, finally, to turning.<br><br>
All in all we both had a lot of fun. On the way home we got to discussing who had the most spectacular wipeouts, though I think that I won that contest given that I managed to take out half do a fence. Twice. Same fence; same half; I rest my case.<br><br>
Thankfully the ride home was drama-less and we actually took a single train the entire way. Thanks again for nothing Google! We are both a bit sore but had a sufficiently fun time that we will probably give it a go this weekend, though the Swiss toddlers zooming down the hill with confidence may cause us to wimp out. </table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-37621176064992177262013-08-26T12:28:00.000-05:002013-08-26T12:28:57.330-05:00A Weekend in Bath<table border=0><tr><td>I have managed to get myself about three trips behind on my travel posts. Let's see...Rome, Bath, Amsterdam. Yeah, that's three. Since we have yet another coming up (Scotland with the folks) in a few weeks, I need to get through some of the old! So forgive the delayed posting, and onward...to Bath.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmeKma1tfbtc6F5vqrayvZv5LPmPSXlbUuHcl4WUNBemCMfxM0ww2V5-kzVQ3yF4hd36DZHHWT5iD2tfNgDcBiDTgzW_5Pmy_D1IQUAuqEDnRrEcEhk3GI2jiyIpJUp5gMsMTwukMEcho/s1600/01+bath.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmeKma1tfbtc6F5vqrayvZv5LPmPSXlbUuHcl4WUNBemCMfxM0ww2V5-kzVQ3yF4hd36DZHHWT5iD2tfNgDcBiDTgzW_5Pmy_D1IQUAuqEDnRrEcEhk3GI2jiyIpJUp5gMsMTwukMEcho/s400/01+bath.JPG" /></a></div>Our first long weekend trip whilst in London (and, by the way, Brits love them some whilst) was to Bath. Bath has been a spa town and destination for leisure travel off and on since Roman times. That's a long time. We took the train down and spent a full weekend there.<br><br>
And oh the train ride. Let us narrate our train ride in texts sent between my wife and I on the journey:
<ul><li>It totally feels like a third-world leg on The Amazing Race.
<li>If you book 90 minutes on a train, why would you not get assigned a seat?
</ul>
<ul>
<li>Sorry you did not bring your book.
<li>I have my phone to fiddle with. And my tacos to wear.
<li>Yeah, it is a bit not smooth.
</ul>
<ul><li>Hello stranger, would you like to know my life story? [moments later] He sings in a barbershop group!
</ul>
<ul>
<li>I thought the guy with the flowers got off.
<li>Me too
<li>Now he is back
<li>His flowers are gone
<li>We should source code him
</ul>
Thankfully our stop was shortly after the group of drunk young hooligans got on board and started playing drinking games.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQf-vkYrO3-loeLwe3MJCan5YD22zw92gngu9vNGXcfM7vpm49GiO-XmiKhvPX4SBTmyr7oqU36xy0eKKrSccbYxVX9y-cdEfRpp2IZ8QmLe2BqT-zGDjCUOMrQDoRimDPiLmPjD97LX8/s1600/02+vaulting.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQf-vkYrO3-loeLwe3MJCan5YD22zw92gngu9vNGXcfM7vpm49GiO-XmiKhvPX4SBTmyr7oqU36xy0eKKrSccbYxVX9y-cdEfRpp2IZ8QmLe2BqT-zGDjCUOMrQDoRimDPiLmPjD97LX8/s400/02+vaulting.JPG" /></a></div>Our first major site in Bath was the Abbey. Our guidebook played it down as a fairly minor site, but we were quite taken with it. It's very bright compared to most of the churches we have visited in the past, and has 'fan vaulting' in the ceiling. We like fan vaulting. A lot. I had several dozen pictures of this ceiling to pick from.<br><br>
The abbey also has a few minor-but-awesome-to-us things to see, including a plaque in honor of the first mayor/warden of Australia and another to a guy for his contribution to spelling. Spelling!<br><br>
It was on a smaller scale than many of the huge catholic churches, but it was just what we needed. We also drew the attention of a nice older man who was serving as a docent and got a nice inside view on a few of the highlights, at least according to him. Whenever we encounter overly enthusiastic older people as docents, we always point out that that is us in a few years.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8i6UxDhkJhyy-7-pEXzlICJ-vfyV83eMIy5dFbau7BZqLPOZycU3Wh27PyGeY9JGgkx-S7wjnRzMjTKTEWm9VL67G7k-OwzsWtb_VJ29FJYR7CkPTWF4oTxnqEsen9F7L41XTnP9amhg/s1600/03+view.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8i6UxDhkJhyy-7-pEXzlICJ-vfyV83eMIy5dFbau7BZqLPOZycU3Wh27PyGeY9JGgkx-S7wjnRzMjTKTEWm9VL67G7k-OwzsWtb_VJ29FJYR7CkPTWF4oTxnqEsen9F7L41XTnP9amhg/s400/03+view.JPG" /></a></div>The abbey had a tower climb, so of course we were helpless to resist. Unlike many of our climbs, this was a guided tour. We learned all about their carillon and that there is actually an English way to ring bells -- you first turn them all the way upside down, then rotate them a full 360 each time you chime them. Neat! The views over Bath were nice, and I couldn't resist getting some artsy-fartsy shots framed by bits of the church itself.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHHdt55lScP6-kLvsmOR34yAXtZGQGKCJNX1cYGkSorB48PEGKTlXFd_uGtnyFlejJCxxqjLZuUfKTzHG12xFHaiCJ5R3Hwh0hpiZFLkOpx1xv3oTLsrtjslhK4JZ-6s8iNG9Lq6pfSiw/s1600/04+velocipede.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHHdt55lScP6-kLvsmOR34yAXtZGQGKCJNX1cYGkSorB48PEGKTlXFd_uGtnyFlejJCxxqjLZuUfKTzHG12xFHaiCJ5R3Hwh0hpiZFLkOpx1xv3oTLsrtjslhK4JZ-6s8iNG9Lq6pfSiw/s400/04+velocipede.JPG" /></a></div>We also hit up two minor museums on our first afternoon, the Museum of Bath At Work and the Fashion Museum. The first was mostly a recreation of a hardware store and factory form one of the early entrepreneurs of Bath, who was quite adept at identifying ways to turn waste into profit. Every time he found a bit of scrap that was produced as a side-effect of one manufacturing process, he came up with another to consume that scrap.<br><br>
There were some neat models and working mechanisms, including his original workshops for machining parts and casting bronze. The workshop was belt-driven from a central generator, and you could push a button and watch it go. Mesmerizing. Also, loud and dangerous. They also had a few interesting vehicles, including this velocipede. I want a velocipede, just so I can can have an excuse to say 'velocipede'.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHXirx0_6vS_JxXiR4trs_jIVH0V3-xh7ab749iLECoNOvpzP0DczJoE0FUwEF319TdFxEWrANoiZE9Q8lRAUREEhmPwqwsCA-U4xcJ5nWDDY2YFfa6mCgHn-RqjgPXG5bx7FsJW6ERU/s1600/05+fash_mus.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAHXirx0_6vS_JxXiR4trs_jIVH0V3-xh7ab749iLECoNOvpzP0DczJoE0FUwEF319TdFxEWrANoiZE9Q8lRAUREEhmPwqwsCA-U4xcJ5nWDDY2YFfa6mCgHn-RqjgPXG5bx7FsJW6ERU/s400/05+fash_mus.JPG" /></a></div>The fashion museum was fun, but after a long day of walking and exploring we were pretty pooped. They have a huge collection of interesting and significant outfits, as well as displays on the changing fashions of the last two centuries. It was surprisingly interesting, though we were a bit too low energy to appreciate it as much as we could have. A quick cup of coffee and some cakes afterwords solved that nicely.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyIUf2tVoNdVYYw0BiilO60rs_xE-wmbt0rX7mbUj4i7-R0CYPQAhLkCH6cvK8I0LEJjK8mCb5fyaPBTRDEfnVno4u4AkpS1zbwW7_jKxB9NspZnaaNhY_XrqSM6PObvfB9o4Yr_vEO5Y/s1600/06+baths.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyIUf2tVoNdVYYw0BiilO60rs_xE-wmbt0rX7mbUj4i7-R0CYPQAhLkCH6cvK8I0LEJjK8mCb5fyaPBTRDEfnVno4u4AkpS1zbwW7_jKxB9NspZnaaNhY_XrqSM6PObvfB9o4Yr_vEO5Y/s400/06+baths.JPG" /></a></div>The last big site (and arguably the biggest) is the Roman Baths. This is a site that was built over two thousand years ago to take advantage of a hot spring that comes up in the area. The spring had been modified for various uses over the next few hundred years, but eventually fell into disuse. Then, as always baffles Mary and myself, it was forgotten and buried in the rubble and refuse of time. Large portions of it have been excavated now, and it makes for an amazing visit.<br><br>
The site was as much for religion as for leisure, and the museum houses all kinds of interesting artifacts like curses that people would write on metal tablets and then throw into the baths to ask the gods for vengeance. Of course these types of details and the mechanism of the place most caught our eyes. There is a huge network of tunnels and channels for moving the water around, which were an amazing feat of engineering.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzPnIw292b8etMYInb6u2ixr6rdmN5qIEMqEaNunsOft-VylJfXt_Vdoexrtk_-Jn75Zl8h6KC0qFP1gUvLiYfiaJMntS9WrIaOXQcKHPgsr5oT4W8fvodp4qVna2k6dLAbS4caxGL26w/s1600/07+flowers.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzPnIw292b8etMYInb6u2ixr6rdmN5qIEMqEaNunsOft-VylJfXt_Vdoexrtk_-Jn75Zl8h6KC0qFP1gUvLiYfiaJMntS9WrIaOXQcKHPgsr5oT4W8fvodp4qVna2k6dLAbS4caxGL26w/s400/07+flowers.JPG" /></a></div>All in all we had a great time on the trip. While there were some bumpy bits (the train ride out, the fact that not a single breakfast place was open at 9:00 am) overall it was a relaxing and enjoyable destination. It was a low-key, low-stakes trip, and it was exactly what we needed.
</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-34374867951946689512013-08-04T16:09:00.000-05:002013-08-04T16:09:46.324-05:00On Rules, The Importance of Following Them, and Why I Spent Wednesday Night In A HotelThis week we had some apartment drama, which ended up being an interesting window in the British spirit (once we got over the fact that we had to spend the night in a hotel.)<br><br>
One would not be faulted for forgetting that long ago, shortly after the move, I made <a href="http://acompletewasteoftimeandenergy.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/special-delivery.html">a passing comment in a previous post</a> about some issues that we had had getting the keys to our unit. As preamble, here is that story: When we showed up at the unit after signing the lease and getting the keys, we found that while we could get in the outer door we could not get in the actual door to our unit. We had been given a key-ring with one 'normal' key and two skeleton keys. We had joked a bit about the skeleton keys, because they really are not used at all in America, and it seemed so fun and charming to get them. Well it was less fun when we couldn't get in. After many backs and forths with the real estate agent, we figured several things out. First, we learned some valuable vocabulary (a normal lock is a 'yale lock' here, even if it's not Yale brand; a skeleton key lock uses a 'chub' key.) Secondly, we figured out that somehow, we had been given the wrong keys for our unit. In fact, it took many people and several different agents at several different agencies to actually find a set of keys that would let us into our new home. Once we did get the keys, we had two yales (outer and inner) but only one chub. We were told that this was OK because it's not actually legal to use the chub keys, for fire safety reasons (it's hard to escape if you have to fumble with your keys to leave.)<br><br>
Fast forward to Wednesday evening. Mary was stuck late at work, so I came home alone. I swung by the store for taco fixings (Taco Night! Woo hoo!) but when I got to the apartment I discovered that the door to our unit was locked. Not just the amount of locked we usually have it, but <i>extra</i> locked. The chub lock had been done. Now we knew that the landlord, against all past behavior, was actually getting workmen out to look at a maintenance issue, so I immediately knew what had happened. He had the magical second chub key and when he left, he locked all the locks he had keys for. A sensible action without context, but a bit irritating for me.<br><br>
My first plan of attack was calling the management company, though I didn't hold out much hope given past experience. In keeping with history, it was already half an hour after the office closed, so I was out of luck. They don't have a 24-hour contact number, and with nobody answering in the office I was on my own.<br><br>
Next up was calling a locksmith, as I would if I got locked out of my house at home. Both Mary and I did a quick websearch (me on my phone, she texting me suggestions) and shortly I was calling in the experts. Turns out, they can only speak to the building owner. To let a tenant into an apartment, they need an incident number from the police. "So...I need to call the police just because I got locked out?" I asked incredulously. Yup. Those are the rules.<br><br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEillDSjaDYXsHIJKr8f_Gioa8_NK-4mfrOUGzIFIUPuWX_B1v7y4D3yaPAzPkvoqp-e_oQvEZtE2bYkWNQgnukRO-WQQ4rCk8RY8b-ljvEWxTRFKO5_a4AWxDRuM0qh5zmQ1ENPQN-7TBM/s1600/pip.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEillDSjaDYXsHIJKr8f_Gioa8_NK-4mfrOUGzIFIUPuWX_B1v7y4D3yaPAzPkvoqp-e_oQvEZtE2bYkWNQgnukRO-WQQ4rCk8RY8b-ljvEWxTRFKO5_a4AWxDRuM0qh5zmQ1ENPQN-7TBM/s400/pip.JPG" /></a></div>I was not about to call the police just because I was locked out of the house, so next up was seeing if I could find the contact info for the workman. I knew that he had called me earlier in the week, but I could not remember when, on which phone, and if I had deleted his message. After much searching and some guesswork (was he the blocked number? No, that's the cat-sitter calling back about our Amsterdam trip.) I tracked him down. I gave him a call and explained the situation. Step one for him was establishing that this was not his fault, as he was just following the directions he was given. He was told to lock up, he locked up. Not his fault. Now, I can understand his perspective, but honestly. I was locked out of my apartment and he held the keys. Surely <i>some</i> culpability lay with him. Regardless, I just wanted back in. I asked if he had a better contact number for the landlord if he could try calling. He was very willing to help, and said that it was probably better for him to call anyway since he would be less likely to get screened on caller ID. He called me back shortly thereafter reporting no luck. The landlord is on vacation and wasn't answering.<br><br>
My next question was, "Where are you?" It seemed sensible that either we could go to him, or he could come to us, and we could still spent the night in our own bed. Naturally, he was an almost two-hour drive away, each way. As we had clearly established that he was just doing his job and not at fault, he was clearly not coming to me. I got his address info, as a possible backup to the backup plan. Then I asked him how one calls the police in a non-emergency situation in this country.<br><br>
I actually got through to the police with very little hold time, and was connected with a nice gentleman. I explained the situation, that the landlord had never given us a key for this second lock and that a workman had locked that lock; that we needed a police incident number in order to get the locksmith to let us in; that I had exhausted all non-police options. He asked if there was a reason that the landlord would have changed the locks on us. I paused. I thought. And I said, "Sir, I appreciate that you can not act on this information, because you have a set of rules that tell you I am probably in the wrong, but the fact is through no fault of my own I don't have a place to sleep tonight because my landlord is shit." Or something to that effect. He was very apologetic and, as had the workman before him and the locksmith before <i>him</i>, expressed sympathy at my situation but explained that he was just doing his job.<br><br>
One fruitless round trip to the office to ransack my bag for extra keys in case my memory had failed us later we checked into a hotel near home. Thankfully the grocery store was open even though it was technically after their closing hour, so we could at least pick up a toothbrush and toothpaste.<br><br>
We called the management office the next day when they opened. I was prepared. I had my list of reasons why, really, truly, it was the landlord's fault. The landlord's agent rented us the place and failed to give us the key. The landlord's agent had locked the door with that key. The landlord was going to take responsibility if I had to keep him on the phone all day. Basically the first thing he said (after "I'm sorry") was "This was our fault." I was shocked. They sent someone out with a master set of keys to let us in. They also agreed that we need to either be given a key to that lock (which they also mentioned was technically illegal) or have all keys to it destroyed.<br><br>
In reality, every one of these people I spoke with pretty much failed me by being British. In America, I would have had <i>some</i> chance at charming <i>someone</i> into intervening on my behalf. I would have been able to get one of them on my side, I truly believe this. But here, in this country, if you are given rules you follow them. It's just how it is. None of these folks would have even thought of stepping out of line, even if it meant us sleeping on the street. Thankfully it didn't come to that, but first thing Monday I <i>am</i> calling the landlord to follow up on preventing this from happening again.<br><br>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-9713543861430601572013-07-14T13:11:00.000-05:002013-07-14T13:11:36.390-05:00Simply the Best Lovely Jubbly<table border=0><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKQHlYC8ed-_IIffdkSFci4K7qlhFzlU0j8AtznTMqwJ7GTbCwlZiz7PD0KLXvH2r1H5pdVNcSoJ5zFSSD4tW5hTORnXR39EUG3kDEaoY0cBe0Mi2CbOWFvpxgEAnn_vbax79vv62t1IY/s1600/01+Pier+and+Beach.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKQHlYC8ed-_IIffdkSFci4K7qlhFzlU0j8AtznTMqwJ7GTbCwlZiz7PD0KLXvH2r1H5pdVNcSoJ5zFSSD4tW5hTORnXR39EUG3kDEaoY0cBe0Mi2CbOWFvpxgEAnn_vbax79vv62t1IY/s320/01+Pier+and+Beach.JPG" /></a></div>This weekend we took advantage of the fact that England is, against all odds and evidence of history, having an actual summer. It has been warm and sunny for two weeks straight now, so what better to do than visit the beach?<br><br>
For our beach visit, we picked Brighton. This is a small, summer holiday spot that has been popular with the Brits for a few hundred years, though it's not on many Americans' visit lists. Since we are trying to live at least a bit like locals, it seemed like a good fit.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAp2QIfZp5i2dniiHivXr3GL2AUxA3fji8SHYYuTQ0tt7S4VSEQzvg0wZp4Wg7VB0HqyUcEQAo_acJtvJiFMga2W6P1suU3545MeRq8L5Im6SH3wD3Pxu6uXjY0jyoaVVbceYDe8zcRn0/s1600/02+Lovely+Jubbly.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAp2QIfZp5i2dniiHivXr3GL2AUxA3fji8SHYYuTQ0tt7S4VSEQzvg0wZp4Wg7VB0HqyUcEQAo_acJtvJiFMga2W6P1suU3545MeRq8L5Im6SH3wD3Pxu6uXjY0jyoaVVbceYDe8zcRn0/s320/02+Lovely+Jubbly.JPG" /></a></div>The beach itself is a short walk from the train station, and is stone rather than sand (a fact that my wife mentioned a few dozens times out of sheer shock.) It's really more gravel than anything else, which just is not at all what she expected.<br><br>
All along the beach are various bars, restaurants, and shops all catering to the vacationing crowds. When we arrived fairly early in the day, things were just opening up and were still quite quiet. The beach had only a few folks on it, and the bars and food stands were sparsely populated. Both beach and bar filled up quite a bit as the day progressed, so we were happy to have come early when it was less overwhelming.<br><br>
Can you guess what Lovely Jubbly is? We discussed it to some extent and decided that it is definitely a pudding/jello hybrid. I even suggested a method for making simply the best lovely jubbly which entailed freezing a pudding ball and then making a jello mold around it. We were disappointed to learn that it is, in fact, <a href="http://www.bbc.co.uk/worldservice/learningenglish/radio/specials/1453_uptodate3/page11.shtml">an expression meaning "great"</a>.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvvD5r3Ucmb-aOHtfp6rdShHBYL8mttRlIc_uXl3SI8yiVG9AsGFa_4Yfe-7-sOPKD4q6rtnNyvAVNi1kpaaMLPXqPuXgc7uEkb_oWmOV1Hz0xN7Ym0WBI6pS2tu_M5mivJec03u1xtqI/s1600/03+Uranus.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvvD5r3Ucmb-aOHtfp6rdShHBYL8mttRlIc_uXl3SI8yiVG9AsGFa_4Yfe-7-sOPKD4q6rtnNyvAVNi1kpaaMLPXqPuXgc7uEkb_oWmOV1Hz0xN7Ym0WBI6pS2tu_M5mivJec03u1xtqI/s320/03+Uranus.JPG" /></a></div>Another draw of Brighton is the pier. This is similar in ways to Navy Pier in Chicago, but much more historic and -- in my opinion -- more charming. It can be seen in the first picture of this post stretching out into the channel. It has arcades, restaurants, some carnival rides, and all sorts of delightful junk food vendors. It's been a center for amusement since at least 1911, and it definitely has a fun old-timey charm without overdoing it.<br><br>
And now, a transcript of the conversation had about the World of Donuts sign:<br>
<b>Mary:</b> How can the Uranus donut be earth shattering? That doesn't make any sense.<br>
<b>Bill:</b> You're right. That donut would shatter Uranus.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Nue4Q0DA5ojqD4CmuxrEIqhKgSWv25bSNTq9EkGqKFaKqktcAlI8KGW_IBmnU29x7LpPlWYbUWuzZuM5uda2jr6TXQ1V1XTRVIDp0gpNWvTww0pBplpXSh6rOVAVPvOMM6MYhDB8i74/s1600/04+Pavillion.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-Nue4Q0DA5ojqD4CmuxrEIqhKgSWv25bSNTq9EkGqKFaKqktcAlI8KGW_IBmnU29x7LpPlWYbUWuzZuM5uda2jr6TXQ1V1XTRVIDp0gpNWvTww0pBplpXSh6rOVAVPvOMM6MYhDB8i74/s320/04+Pavillion.JPG" /></a></div>The other main draw in town is the Royal Pavilion. This is a pleasure palace that started construction in the late 18th century to house the Prince of Wales at the time. It was built in a strange, Indian-inspired mash-up style that was intended to show that even though they lost the US, they still had some awesome colonies.<br><br>
We had seen pictures in guidebooks before coming, but it didn't really prepare us for the absurdity of this overwrought Indian temple plopped down in this little seaside resort. It's very striking, and just covered in bizarre details for the eye to take in. The inside is even stranger, covered in primarily Chinese-style decorations and furniture. It was a real shame that they did not allow photographs, because it was one of the most over the top, amazing interiors we had ever seen. The main dining hall had a twelve foot dragon holding up the chandelier!<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiBwSQbI8_NLH7zED0NPAkx8VOlBCeKiMis9twBkycmYGBJRHiDUaKeQ9-7n__-sqpYzknfo2MkpM1_JjWQ0iNYM_Oq950raTtwNDQht4rRqjZ2exAMckeVtxftuWOV7VM9Gpr3lQWX_I/s1600/05+Pier+Afternoon.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiBwSQbI8_NLH7zED0NPAkx8VOlBCeKiMis9twBkycmYGBJRHiDUaKeQ9-7n__-sqpYzknfo2MkpM1_JjWQ0iNYM_Oq950raTtwNDQht4rRqjZ2exAMckeVtxftuWOV7VM9Gpr3lQWX_I/s320/05+Pier+Afternoon.JPG" /></a></div>After wandering a bit in the shops around the Royal Pavilion, we headed back down to the beach for a last stroll before heading home. Things had definitely picked up.<br><br>
The beach was blanketed with picnicers and sunbathers, and the bars and cafes were in full swing. Quite a few ships had even anchored off the beach and were likely mocking the crowds they were glad to be avoiding.<br><br>
As we walked we reflected on our day and commented on the hilarious and daring bathing outfits of those around us (we spied a few topless women and a man in a pair of skimpy, skin-tight, neon yellow trunks.) We had expected a nice day, but it really turned out to be a fantastic outing. I would not be at all surprised if we made a return trip later in the summer to see it again, and this time brought our own picnic supplies.
</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-11106659113399809882013-07-07T12:09:00.000-05:002013-07-07T12:09:01.549-05:00Oeuf!...I Did It Again<table border=0>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWuKVtiLKQauZynb4cy1vNYIcmOt7EsE8T_pU45YHlfldxUqCTiaPf9eIPXN2tocq5b-J8H16nvY9eKfcxl1eg60MpUoRlDH6Ltxy7Kf0ysDovEnmtQSsGEmTyft38FME59RXnR2Je4w8/s1600/01+Crowds.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWuKVtiLKQauZynb4cy1vNYIcmOt7EsE8T_pU45YHlfldxUqCTiaPf9eIPXN2tocq5b-J8H16nvY9eKfcxl1eg60MpUoRlDH6Ltxy7Kf0ysDovEnmtQSsGEmTyft38FME59RXnR2Je4w8/s320/01+Crowds.JPG" /></a></div>Our second trip since being in London was actually a revisit of a place we had already been -- Paris. We had visited well in the off season last time around, and it had been a great trip, but definitely chilly. This time, we had (mostly) blue skies and much more comfortable temperatures. We also had already done most of the hugely popular sites when there were fewer crowds, which we were very happy for once we set eyes upon the masses outside Notre Dame. We briefly talked about redoing the church climb and revisiting San Chappelle (a favorite church from last visit,) but neither ended up happening. <br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpqVrpxHrXoklfU2dNqCQ_SHI27oKQ5vjQY6C9q4TT7Yn_JDBl0b8H2OcdxCSkmUAFnXUuU9x_3UJnD6Rc3eHLn8q1VAyLlv25ft-qIVkjT3FbEZmHJA5ZfIkBUtiGOA_vFGB9jrpyWY/s1600/02+SeineHigh2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYpqVrpxHrXoklfU2dNqCQ_SHI27oKQ5vjQY6C9q4TT7Yn_JDBl0b8H2OcdxCSkmUAFnXUuU9x_3UJnD6Rc3eHLn8q1VAyLlv25ft-qIVkjT3FbEZmHJA5ZfIkBUtiGOA_vFGB9jrpyWY/s320/02+SeineHigh2.JPG" /></a></div>Looking at the Seine, there was plenty of evidence that the weather had only recently turned nice. It was running very high, and came up over the footpath that runs along the side at several places.<br><br>
Since we had a more casual schedule than the previous visit, we did have a bit more time to just stroll and people watch. We got this shot during a lunch-time stroll, and there were tons of what appeared to be Parisian business people and workmen relaxing on their lunch break all along the river. They didn't seem to mind it being a little high.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHF8VpogdELsKKuFpltG4Noh7g1RxxrTrhbd0Wg73Xt5jSFfqn8JW2L3NQm-Lu1UzJojDPxQ9EvtqrSwzlbuzpygoqZe034IOc_sYJOwSCmGeyQQLjy-wiAw4wv-MKXWOjJm_eFmaNbYg/s1600/03+Locks.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHF8VpogdELsKKuFpltG4Noh7g1RxxrTrhbd0Wg73Xt5jSFfqn8JW2L3NQm-Lu1UzJojDPxQ9EvtqrSwzlbuzpygoqZe034IOc_sYJOwSCmGeyQQLjy-wiAw4wv-MKXWOjJm_eFmaNbYg/s320/03+Locks.JPG" /></a></div>We also solved a bit of a mystery on this visit. On our visit to Florence, we had noticed that near the river there were a few structures covered in small padlocks. Well there is a bridge over the Seine that makes that look like child play. The entire length of it is bounded by fencing, and that fence is invisible due to all the locks. It turns out that it's a tradition to write your and your sweetheart's names on a lock, then lock it to the railing and toss the key in the river. This symbolizes that there is no exit and that hell is other people, I guess, though the romantics <i>probably</i> wouldn't phrase it that way.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiha40lzPYLb1a9Ax0tkFwRb-ixCDkAx7SPRXi2JkDoZZjROMzV_JXb3Ri98k-vDVh8rAYFSW-z4G0jkzcqNekBHRiOsS7FM5BD7rRULepddnn_sMr7wouVpRLPjJnjNpuu-5ZFq8xyvlc/s1600/04+Cluney+Bodies.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiha40lzPYLb1a9Ax0tkFwRb-ixCDkAx7SPRXi2JkDoZZjROMzV_JXb3Ri98k-vDVh8rAYFSW-z4G0jkzcqNekBHRiOsS7FM5BD7rRULepddnn_sMr7wouVpRLPjJnjNpuu-5ZFq8xyvlc/s320/04+Cluney+Bodies.JPG" /></a></div>One museum that we had missed the first time through town and caught this time was the Cluny Museum of the Middle Ages. Though one of the main draws for this place was out of commission while we were there, it still ended up being a very cool place. It had a series of small figurines that had been carved as part of a burial site, as well as these headless fellows.<br><br>
These are a series of statues of biblical kings that used to be in niches in front of Notre Dame. When king beheading was all the rage, folks tore these down and chiseled off the heads.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHtqKVax9b6PV7N546epa3QdkjwcQRAd1jb-Bgs-5D_poS6RiIBU0AFXc92wVYJdzdiLBQoj-JudPYZI58lUJVxP2pGyUjoM2gcR94sO6kXhMzMh0oUWzmG2r9WQXUOLsZ8c_w5vqneg/s1600/05+Cluney+Heads.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHtqKVax9b6PV7N546epa3QdkjwcQRAd1jb-Bgs-5D_poS6RiIBU0AFXc92wVYJdzdiLBQoj-JudPYZI58lUJVxP2pGyUjoM2gcR94sO6kXhMzMh0oUWzmG2r9WQXUOLsZ8c_w5vqneg/s320/05+Cluney+Heads.JPG" /></a></div>After the be-chiseling, Some brave soul collected the discarded heads and buried them in his yard to grow a king tree. Or maybe for safekeeping. Regardless, when the heat died down a bit, they were dug up donated to the museum. They are now kept in a room where they face their former bodies, which seems a bit mean-spirited to me.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-FXjSPhyphenhyphencQ35-ZFN7GsWfRmzKxbRw5IvxmqEK1D0NitKnbNX0mNXshZdllQkd7twaACpAOMtxV0qLwJEslOHknBSJpOXj09HN7Yv9JZX1pptaBBoE4IAY4ApdvVk6mmfUNlVi4MsM1Jw/s1600/06+Lapin+Agile.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-FXjSPhyphenhyphencQ35-ZFN7GsWfRmzKxbRw5IvxmqEK1D0NitKnbNX0mNXshZdllQkd7twaACpAOMtxV0qLwJEslOHknBSJpOXj09HN7Yv9JZX1pptaBBoE4IAY4ApdvVk6mmfUNlVi4MsM1Jw/s320/06+Lapin+Agile.JPG" /></a></div>Another area we spent a lot more time in this visit was the Monmartre area. This is an edgier, artier area of town. A land of can can dancers and dissolute artists. We did a walk all around this area, and also visited the Monmartre museum. This gave a great history and context for the fringe scene from the turn of the century and had many artifacts from that scene. It was very cool to see things like Talouse Latrec posters and the Lapin Agile contextualized.<br><br>
The walk actually brought us right past the Lapin Agile, which is still a cabaret to this day. They have shows a few times a week, though only in French. Neat!
All of this was very close to Sacre Coer, which is not only a neat church but also one of my favorite stair climbs around.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZ8ww8_cF1HEJzbFeIyXHI9RA8dlQX4fcBO-dBPsSYkR55nVBgSeTu3WFIoxV9b9OcvJudUtds143wlGRmIAjiWnB_mH2lSXE3-Qqrs8OC0MROdReMLQL44gGWjras_0amAGkSGtBu4E/s1600/07+Square+Trees.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpZ8ww8_cF1HEJzbFeIyXHI9RA8dlQX4fcBO-dBPsSYkR55nVBgSeTu3WFIoxV9b9OcvJudUtds143wlGRmIAjiWnB_mH2lSXE3-Qqrs8OC0MROdReMLQL44gGWjras_0amAGkSGtBu4E/s320/07+Square+Trees.JPG" /></a></div>One thing that definitely did not change was Paris's love of a well trimmed shrub. When we visited last time, we noticed quite a few topiaries, and we were worried that this fun feature may not be as obvious or neat during the spring when things were actually growing. Not to fear! We saw many very well trimmed shrubs, and even got to see some square trees in the park!<br><br>
While we like to tease and joke about this, it really is quite striking to see the rows of trees so neatly trimmed and aligned. It makes quite an impression and turns the parks into something very magical.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2o4W2uy7Kjqa9TdOlwrzQCkFmINJFtCDXavIxLxYPmH-g0EjQmEBTo3T3VnbKp2xr7hqsVHYXTNF2GxM-vxZsNg3lLB2BIdRWthwpXpd98L5RVZOQXZOESKqV9leI8c5sa73deuN1YIY/s1600/09+Dog.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2o4W2uy7Kjqa9TdOlwrzQCkFmINJFtCDXavIxLxYPmH-g0EjQmEBTo3T3VnbKp2xr7hqsVHYXTNF2GxM-vxZsNg3lLB2BIdRWthwpXpd98L5RVZOQXZOESKqV9leI8c5sa73deuN1YIY/s320/09+Dog.JPG" /></a></div>This time around, we also expected and respected the pace of the city a bit more. Last time we found ourselves constantly arriving for dinner before the kitchen was open, despite thinking that we had waited long enough. Either due to more practice with Europe, or just from eating dinners later since moving to London, that was less of an issue. We tended to stop for a glass of wine around six in the evening, then swing by the hotel before getting dinner. This was not only a lovely break, but also helped us fit in with the local schedule a bit more.<br><br>
We even managed to brave a few French (sometimes <i>very</i> French) stores on the trip. We shopped in a few that specialized in umbrellas, and got Mary a fun one with a printed black and white street scene. We hit a few purse stores as well, and while we didn't get the five hundred euro one, we did find one she liked that was more in our price range. We even picked up some fancy mustard from the Maille shop.<br><br>
I don't really have a good image for this paragraph, so I am using a jaunty sign indicating that there is absolutely <i>no</i> dog prancing allowed. Either that, or it's indicating the end of the dog prancing zone; I can never tell in Europe.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsLm1KLsUJncka9Hdvz4dhHgxeWx4G4SLnRAN4STfib0JDvheWe77HwqNH2drdcXGtuJKVjktt2N6MSA3UbXBkIS0G1lnTKq-glquDkkvCCda3zM7I_msXykfxI792lVWmchjfMP2a3f8/s1600/08+CherubInfestation.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsLm1KLsUJncka9Hdvz4dhHgxeWx4G4SLnRAN4STfib0JDvheWe77HwqNH2drdcXGtuJKVjktt2N6MSA3UbXBkIS0G1lnTKq-glquDkkvCCda3zM7I_msXykfxI792lVWmchjfMP2a3f8/s320/08+CherubInfestation.JPG" /></a></div>Overall, we had a fantastic time visiting Paris again. It was nice to take things a little easier, and seeing the city again in a different season was great. I suspect that we will be back a time or two during our stay here, and will continue to find pleasure in our visits. If nothing else, we have a boundless capability to find joy in the details. For example, this dude is positively infested with headless cherubim. Also, what's with the tiny alligators? What if the whole city is beset by tiny men and we didn't even notice? Clearly we need to visit again, just to check.<br><br>
</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-60351793060562511682013-07-01T14:07:00.000-05:002013-07-03T11:21:40.028-05:00Afternoon TeaBetween a bit of a crazy travel schedule (Paris for a weekend, then two weeks later Rome for a week) and picking up a few new video games, I will admit that I have been pretty crap about keeping the blog updated. I do plan on posting about both trips, but since those will take a bit more thought, I figured I'd update with something we did even more recently: Fancy afternoon tea.<br><br>
<table border=0><tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8p8iLTCBFnORx1sfVsUTax-dzaqPJZEiaFOghMV6Yw6IYgIgKGGBb9Md01NDgVf_LB28kGJGCViOxup_FOuXZSaN6U5IV2XX32XOV8NzyevA0Bb_JPx8k1pNxeKTcrFdT-TZnobdOZI/s513/Shoe.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8p8iLTCBFnORx1sfVsUTax-dzaqPJZEiaFOghMV6Yw6IYgIgKGGBb9Md01NDgVf_LB28kGJGCViOxup_FOuXZSaN6U5IV2XX32XOV8NzyevA0Bb_JPx8k1pNxeKTcrFdT-TZnobdOZI/s513/Shoe.JPG" /></a></div>While afternoon tea with some small snacks is very common here a big fancy one is not necessarily, and is certainly not part of our normal lifestyle. Still it feels like something every visitor should do, so Mary set about researching. She came upon one that patterned all their desserts off fashion items, and since the photo had little shortbreads iced to look like handbags, she was sold.<br><br>
We were not sure how much proper food to expect, so we went in hungry but not starving. We started with tea (duh) and some small sandwiches. We had four sandwich quarters, though we did order another tray because they were delicious. Mary was quite taken with an egg salad sandwich, and I with one that had some form of salad on it with figs. There were also ones with roast beef and horseradish, smoked salmon, and cucumber (naturally.) All crusts were removed, as we are not savages.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrNKiXbQ7xOkGv87CF5yBU4jsyd-mSh-sSuC9jPmJ3v2aCydaljIIVvnG2vUgmwefxyRes2dyOpYUa1n9uukWAe5C1Z4i8fzJ-WKTAY-jCwqzoBxLuRN2VgZq8YDqwAQAg-t-c7ZAiuto/s816/Tray.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrNKiXbQ7xOkGv87CF5yBU4jsyd-mSh-sSuC9jPmJ3v2aCydaljIIVvnG2vUgmwefxyRes2dyOpYUa1n9uukWAe5C1Z4i8fzJ-WKTAY-jCwqzoBxLuRN2VgZq8YDqwAQAg-t-c7ZAiuto/s816/Tray.JPG" /></a></div>After the sandwiches, they brought out the trays. These included small savory items as well as desserts.<br><br>
The savories were great, with very intense flavors in one or two bites. I was quite taken with small cones of crab salad, which had a nice heat and peppery bite. Mary dug one with a small piece of melon topped with goat cheese mixed with mint. There were also little pie-crust coffins filled with roasted veggies, and a small fois gras shooter with some odd crispy substance on it. We could not always understand our server, so there <i>were</i> some mystery items.<br><br>
The desserts ranged from iced cookies (in the shape of shoes and lady torsos) to mousses to cookies topped with mousses. There was quite a wide variety of flavors and textures, and we both found things to fall in love with.<br><br>
Whenever we would get close to finishing off the items on a tray, a new one would be brought out replenishing our giant pile of sweets. It was good fun, though it did cause us to question our memeberships in the clean plate club.<br><br>
<tr><td><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0PPTCysSN85wBN4XLYgwYS1GWuBXws97r4a-qfLNxeeCHRtIu7apOIfjOjhqiuLW1f5j-NpJ5s1yt9tY8S2R7o5lmsbhTkVgRclbsXBrSgDRFyZgD8JeobquqiwCL_FUSPOoL9TZdU1w/s612/Hey+Ladies.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0PPTCysSN85wBN4XLYgwYS1GWuBXws97r4a-qfLNxeeCHRtIu7apOIfjOjhqiuLW1f5j-NpJ5s1yt9tY8S2R7o5lmsbhTkVgRclbsXBrSgDRFyZgD8JeobquqiwCL_FUSPOoL9TZdU1w/s612/Hey+Ladies.JPG" /></a></div><br><br>In the end it was a very fun experience, and we came out of it stuffed. We definitely got enough food. Coming in the late afternoon, it was a fun sort of un-brunch that I could see repeating when we have guests in town. <br><br>It did make me a bit wistful for my Pastry School days -- such as they were -- but I think I will leave the icing of bikinis to the pros, for now. Next week: Paris photos and commentary, really!
</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6292977806212267340.post-60255720150023763002013-06-01T03:28:00.001-05:002013-06-01T03:28:35.562-05:00Mussels Near Brussels<table border=0><tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf1KQbI3tU3t2kwhpVmo9sEaZ048rcSmAoZ7ux9EZVO4eSdCmw99Z7b0rX72rWtiWxwSjcg2CSkafT703zs27VDgHyo-U9FsVtezCf-SgCz9MRflj7GhLwtuYWTDr6FU0UTi0rlLBylcg/s1600/00+CanalPark.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: right; margin-left: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf1KQbI3tU3t2kwhpVmo9sEaZ048rcSmAoZ7ux9EZVO4eSdCmw99Z7b0rX72rWtiWxwSjcg2CSkafT703zs27VDgHyo-U9FsVtezCf-SgCz9MRflj7GhLwtuYWTDr6FU0UTi0rlLBylcg/s320/00+CanalPark.JPG" /></a>Now that we are settled into London, our mind turns to a favorite pastime of all London dwellers: leaving London. For our first European trip since moving here, we decided to go to Bruges, Belgium.
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaDJpC8Nurg2aZxeceX_N4YyLKlH8O2aZ-fsrIxJk4MXYNPa1biXsNYpuh-gmuLq-FhgQsr1TvXhttDk2azjc1C620nDeALeCm3bLXQiig-yucepf2FW69EAsrNGMarGI4VMxATA7Bf18/s1600/01+Gothic.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: left; margin-right: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaDJpC8Nurg2aZxeceX_N4YyLKlH8O2aZ-fsrIxJk4MXYNPa1biXsNYpuh-gmuLq-FhgQsr1TvXhttDk2azjc1C620nDeALeCm3bLXQiig-yucepf2FW69EAsrNGMarGI4VMxATA7Bf18/s320/01+Gothic.JPG" /></a>Bruges is an uneventful four-hour train ride away from London, with a transfer in Brussels. Mary and I agree that Brussels needs to go by its French name of 'Bruxelles' more often. Rock that x, girlfriend. Bruges is fairly small and heavily gothically architectured. It is a fairly common destination for European tourists but not very well known in the US. This is probably due to its small size, which makes it best suited for a weekend trip. It is also, as is true of most verbs and all nouns, a running joke between my wife and I.
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8GD6ECgCan2SyMlSNXTfrdObeH2WTUrkdmPES9QKfL29nC31Po7-m-iGSE-UEuEIwCiJauhiwSaisjoEms4RP6v9pw_IRpHon7OL3kB1jct5SCFF0b9oajmUwxq46TV9amY7xyg5OjQs/s1600/02+NarrowStepped.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: right; margin-left: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8GD6ECgCan2SyMlSNXTfrdObeH2WTUrkdmPES9QKfL29nC31Po7-m-iGSE-UEuEIwCiJauhiwSaisjoEms4RP6v9pw_IRpHon7OL3kB1jct5SCFF0b9oajmUwxq46TV9amY7xyg5OjQs/s320/02+NarrowStepped.JPG" /></a>Most of the first day was spent wandering around the streets and parks. There are a few picturesque canals in town, and four windmills at the edge. The architecture of the main squares is a very overstated gothic style, which is quite striking. Getting away from the main squares, you can start to appreciate the charm of the narrow houses and stepped facades. We had a ton of fun just wandering and looking.
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWSNgZoIj4aKIo8NCZTUTnqQM6ELzaIwhkoY7lE4WHY6cHijUSb9Bvuvd1mqVze6d_QLZ6YZ1a3l_WHHRq2PIrxA-S1NNDtQIhvxHVxe8golkF4xOH5UHtzDkVWrPs5BRJ-tN8Mi4nUCA/s1600/03+Sign.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: left; margin-right: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWSNgZoIj4aKIo8NCZTUTnqQM6ELzaIwhkoY7lE4WHY6cHijUSb9Bvuvd1mqVze6d_QLZ6YZ1a3l_WHHRq2PIrxA-S1NNDtQIhvxHVxe8golkF4xOH5UHtzDkVWrPs5BRJ-tN8Mi4nUCA/s320/03+Sign.JPG" /></a>Also fun to look at? The language. Bruges is in the Flemish part of the country. While while Flemish doesn't sound all that odd (very German-like), it looks a touch bizarre when written. We amused ourselves on our walk by attempting to read the street signs
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9uT77BWrLqC6rPso_L3agqA-RKDjVa-YAFhbUS89loANFFFVRgQ8lWDn0Zuv6ScJQ-D7NuamppyD4IQap1hEKNImPjX6EfDF3T2YYAjmaetySB0J_LoLs_NViXk9PFr9mvcv1MBFKv8/s1600/Flowers.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: right; margin-left: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV9uT77BWrLqC6rPso_L3agqA-RKDjVa-YAFhbUS89loANFFFVRgQ8lWDn0Zuv6ScJQ-D7NuamppyD4IQap1hEKNImPjX6EfDF3T2YYAjmaetySB0J_LoLs_NViXk9PFr9mvcv1MBFKv8/s320/Flowers.JPG" /></a>One of Bruges's local specialties is frites (french fries) with mayonnaise, which you can get from every restaurant and some street vendors. These were amazing. The fries are always cooked fresh to order and the mayo is more of a hollandaise sauce or aioli. It was rich and salty and suited the crisp, hot fries perfectly. When we got the first batch we both knew we'd be making a habit of it, and we were not wrong.
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy7AxSFHx3Po0BGx1X5lrxzb4Qdo815fbup8rLNGa7doqQ2YvKZZcd6_QSVwxfsfNcXZjIpZoQnO3eeLJrD7ONjfGULWbi6KSkp9Sue6Pu9MYHHBNJuWP0KQa3XYlZA0IyKRrUgeOyZEM/s1600/04+HolyBlood.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: left; margin-right: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy7AxSFHx3Po0BGx1X5lrxzb4Qdo815fbup8rLNGa7doqQ2YvKZZcd6_QSVwxfsfNcXZjIpZoQnO3eeLJrD7ONjfGULWbi6KSkp9Sue6Pu9MYHHBNJuWP0KQa3XYlZA0IyKRrUgeOyZEM/s320/04+HolyBlood.JPG" /></a>Sights-wise, the highlight of day one was the Church of the Holy Blood. While this sounds like a christian heavy metal band, it's actually a church built to house a vial of Christ's blood, which was brought home by a returning crusader. Unlike many of the churches we have seen in Europe, this is a much humbler affair. The columns and walls are all stone, with very little adornment. It's a powerful place and tells a lot about the reverence and piety they felt at the time.
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj63Psr5rMhTVTYRhBkcudk2i8_m4xGhYrZKGl6DgTajkf2rA3VD67Am18x8VIrRdxtHOSlgUytTluRyBPvzAkjqkt7TFmTKwBMUkM-bunfmm2-DFNqUaPBldTOFbcuesRz6TXkASIqjEg/s1600/05+CanalDay.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: right; margin-left: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj63Psr5rMhTVTYRhBkcudk2i8_m4xGhYrZKGl6DgTajkf2rA3VD67Am18x8VIrRdxtHOSlgUytTluRyBPvzAkjqkt7TFmTKwBMUkM-bunfmm2-DFNqUaPBldTOFbcuesRz6TXkASIqjEg/s320/05+CanalDay.JPG" /></a>On the second day we hit up a few museums and then partook of a local delicacy: mussels. We got them cooked in wine and herbs and they were delicious. We had local beer to go with it, as well as an order of frites. Delicious. We kept lunch light in order to ensure that we could snack all day, as it is important to set your priorities and stick to them.
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhMbzZ8rqE8pnfEzA5-c5VY6K_BCES8U2yQE4eS1tMsoxo2T8F_5AqERbmll3Kx9DJ-XOrC9rMEvJUgflJJnP65gVL4YgCAaZSqfZfLk3OonC4i7UXZqWTTUcUtG-GYSwVXOsF5TSwpYo/s1600/06+Wedding.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: left; margin-right: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhMbzZ8rqE8pnfEzA5-c5VY6K_BCES8U2yQE4eS1tMsoxo2T8F_5AqERbmll3Kx9DJ-XOrC9rMEvJUgflJJnP65gVL4YgCAaZSqfZfLk3OonC4i7UXZqWTTUcUtG-GYSwVXOsF5TSwpYo/s320/06+Wedding.JPG" /></a>After lunch it was off to a brewery tour. This was of the last functioning brewery in town, where there were once eighty. Since the brewery was so old, the tour took us through a whole history of brewing, showing not only how things are done now but also some of the equipment and processes from times past. The history of brewing is also quite tied to the history of Bruges, and it was a neat lens to view the town through. The woman giving the tour was quite animated and we had a great time. Naturally it ended in some sampling and we grabbed a six pack to bring home.
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Q5Blno1RxSld6hbrqwCEICnWm_n0w8EWpXi0WSXjrSCve0tSRBsaI50v1Nx17xXVgJ4rAXX9iD0nSi69rvA1jBJmUnRfKAyD0LaBjKGsmXN2u4_EaYQ5u2UnJPZYQsLZwmsDRI68Wrs/s1600/09+Carillon.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: right; margin-left: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Q5Blno1RxSld6hbrqwCEICnWm_n0w8EWpXi0WSXjrSCve0tSRBsaI50v1Nx17xXVgJ4rAXX9iD0nSi69rvA1jBJmUnRfKAyD0LaBjKGsmXN2u4_EaYQ5u2UnJPZYQsLZwmsDRI68Wrs/s320/09+Carillon.JPG" /></a>Next up was stairs. It just wouldn't be a Europe trip without stairs. In this case, it was up the clock tower at the town hall. The tower has a very cool mechanism for playing the bells and I could not resist getting a few pictures. The view was neat too.
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSxW8jnFKPLLE0TUVmeXRLoDo-W2Su3Mq59OVOdM4-s1Sp7SZrNWYclxmYwZT2fzycDzcWuOLLCcHQ_ZskkiOcvN1TZ3Sx9G4mTBFXGSAjHcVyfKmdmGO9Ov8FQxPvno-X6LAN4bvx8z8/s1600/08+StairsCourtyard.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: left; margin-right: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSxW8jnFKPLLE0TUVmeXRLoDo-W2Su3Mq59OVOdM4-s1Sp7SZrNWYclxmYwZT2fzycDzcWuOLLCcHQ_ZskkiOcvN1TZ3Sx9G4mTBFXGSAjHcVyfKmdmGO9Ov8FQxPvno-X6LAN4bvx8z8/s320/08+StairsCourtyard.JPG" /></a>After the climb we figured that we had earned a snack so it was off for more frites. Then, of course, we had to walk off the ftites so we just wandered around town a bit and headed to dinner. We ate at a place known for rustic local fare -- I opted for a beef stew and Mary a chicken one. Both came served over, you'll never guess, frites. For those counting, this was our third of the day. I regret nothing.
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZFlb1bfUWkvCCYqwf8yQFhwCQD1GV_ZidEgM1Xp7JkXCaBA03R5BJd8V8pnEf9A10aXLxswdiih08K-x0PDu5bukhLdsfcoVPvPc6XbTguGFlI1qdDytpkL52pe01I-TL0xwwtxkH9-Q/s1600/10+Polyp.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: right; margin-left: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZFlb1bfUWkvCCYqwf8yQFhwCQD1GV_ZidEgM1Xp7JkXCaBA03R5BJd8V8pnEf9A10aXLxswdiih08K-x0PDu5bukhLdsfcoVPvPc6XbTguGFlI1qdDytpkL52pe01I-TL0xwwtxkH9-Q/s320/10+Polyp.JPG" /></a>After dinner, we wandered over to a carnival that had been set up on the edge of town. It was a wonderland of bright lights, loud music, and illegal usage of licensed characters. It seemed as if every single ride had a half dozen popular characters stenciled on it, with little thought to how they relate. Jack sparrow and Dora the explorer with a gremlin and a WWF wrestler? Why not! It was a surreal and fun end to the day.
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLoTolMV4m2SZV65PBZ321OZOKCDDpPn2BFEAfcwsyiJUbdTuR2HL71r5wq0P16UitoYFMLF1gtxhqJlqj6BbDlDo13KpmT2BCVp14gHiQk2EofKarD-j1BtCCX-ri8a3qWUOXo3XGmas/s1600/11+Windmill.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: left; margin-right: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLoTolMV4m2SZV65PBZ321OZOKCDDpPn2BFEAfcwsyiJUbdTuR2HL71r5wq0P16UitoYFMLF1gtxhqJlqj6BbDlDo13KpmT2BCVp14gHiQk2EofKarD-j1BtCCX-ri8a3qWUOXo3XGmas/s320/11+Windmill.JPG" /></a>The final morning we bought some snacks on the way out of town (chocolates, caramels) and hopped a bus to the train. There was some brief drama where we thought I may have gotten us on he wrong train, but that ended up sorting itself out. We planned a long layover in Bruxelles to do a bit of sightseeing, and after Bruges it seemed like a huge city. Most of its touristy stuff is cantered around one square which was quite close to where we came into the city, so it was quite walkable in a half day.
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH3ZXPtBzooZI-ARhFPzD8Go-eTcY6t9CyL7QBUnx98Brsl2P3QNIxZlJIOHFF58wzePTaDDbNxLX4agxOCiwztAg54krrcVs1ZHTg2JEGbMijKe2PAHStm4-wK94FBeX3QKqP0eT5gTQ/s1600/12+Brussels.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: right; margin-left: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH3ZXPtBzooZI-ARhFPzD8Go-eTcY6t9CyL7QBUnx98Brsl2P3QNIxZlJIOHFF58wzePTaDDbNxLX4agxOCiwztAg54krrcVs1ZHTg2JEGbMijKe2PAHStm4-wK94FBeX3QKqP0eT5gTQ/s320/12+Brussels.JPG" /></a>We did a walk that brought us around the sights and terminated at the site we most wanted to see: the mannequin pis. This is a diminutive statue of a pissing boy who has become the symbol of the city. Visiting dignitaries bring outfits for him to wear, which is equal parts strange and awesome. He was dressed in a sort of matador outfit when we were there, very dapper.
<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIjHFwZ5S7K-YbZfiKNDiGxYS0tW5wExl_fe41OO8IshcdfjLiDus9fR1I2kkYH9Ut3FIZEoM9q2b9CaQMKwUu3etRvdyBTGuOOIoLfdNc2R5S_Hq5oHxWeC7snf3m-h_lGZdHqAaantU/s1600/13+Pis.JPG" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" style="float: left; margin-right: 0.5em" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIjHFwZ5S7K-YbZfiKNDiGxYS0tW5wExl_fe41OO8IshcdfjLiDus9fR1I2kkYH9Ut3FIZEoM9q2b9CaQMKwUu3etRvdyBTGuOOIoLfdNc2R5S_Hq5oHxWeC7snf3m-h_lGZdHqAaantU/s320/13+Pis.JPG" /></a>All in all, it was a great trip. We really loved Bruges, and definitely plan on heading back at least for a weekend before we leave. The atmosphere was relaxed, the food was great, and french fries are canonized. Where could be better?
</table>StraitUphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08445378118774136491noreply@blogger.com0