Oasis in the Snow

Our Christmas trip has been great. Munich, Salzburg, and the German Alps meant a lot of site seeing in the cold though. Thankfully today we found solitude in the Austrian Alps.

Even though I had sworn off Rick Steve's (as in Rick Steve’s Travel Guides) restaurant recommendations we decided to give him one more chance. This decision came more from a lack of other choices than from confidence that he's steer us to something worth while. Well Rick, you've redeemed yourself.

The Alpenhotel in Ruette, Austria, near the German boarder in Bavaria was fantastic. Downstairs is a cozy little restaurant. The customers seemed to be split between locals and tourists – mostly who appeared to be in the area to ski. The room was cozy, with big tables and small tiled stoves keep the place extra warm.

The food was fantastic. Kevin had roasted goose and I have a pot of chicken, beef, and pork in a mushroom sauce. For dessert we had dumplings with chocolate sauce. I have to say this was one of the best meals we've had so far.

And the best part was, when we were ready to go back to our room, all we had to do was go upstairs! The next morning we went for a run on a small trail near the hotel. The views were awesome and my "winter in the Alps" fantasy was complete.

Now I am ready to head back north the Rhine Rive valley where the temperatures are warmer. Tomorrow we're going to spend the last day of our trip in Baden-Baden, an ancient spa town soaking in the thermal baths.

The Hills Are Alive

Christmas in Salzburg.

We decided that if we were not going to spend Christmas with our families, we should spend it in a storybook town in the Alps. The town lived up to my expectations, though I don't think it would be been necessary to spend more than two days site seeing here. Also, our hotel was a bit of a disappointment and we didn't have the most amazing food.

On the food front, I'll forgive the city. Not much was opened on Christmas Eve. We ate in a place that served both curry and traditional Austrian dishes. On Christmas we went to a Mozart concert and diner, the food was passable, but the music was better. It was very touristy. We sat at a table of Americans. It was nice, though, to be able to speak English comfortably for a little while though.

Of course for me – having seen the Sound of Music countless times – I had to re-enact the twirling scene from the beginning of the movie. Kevin was a good sport too, but I wont embarrass him by posting the photos of him running through the hills.

Hot Dog!

December in Munich: cold, cold, cold, but awesome. The city is filled with an amazing pre-Christmas buzz and all of the Christmas markets – there seems to be a different one every block or so – are packed. Here we are eating the best hot dog of my entire life. It was cooked over a wood burning fire so the sausage was smoky and the bun was warm and slightly crispy on the outside. Delicious! [Editorial note: I am still thinking about how good that dog was daily. It's now February.]

Most stands that sell sausages offer at least two kinds: bratwurst, the white pork sausages, and Rotwurst, red sausages made from beef. Though you'd think that the beef sausages would be the same as American hot dogs they really are an entirely different animal.

One of the most amusing things about the bratwursts sold here is that, no matter how big the sausage, the roll that is comes in is always tiny. It’s as if the bun more as a handle that part of the snack.

What's In a Name?

Really, who thought this was a good name for a bus company?

Berlin

I went to Berlin with a group of students from the Goethe Institute this weekend. Here's my assessment of the trip

The good:

• Berlin really feels like a city – even by New York standards it's big, with lots going on and lots to see

The bad:

• I was reminded that I don't really like traveling in groups – too much time is spent waiting around for other people
• Berlin in December was really cold – especially since I forgot my winter coat

Final assessment, I really want to go back to Berlin with Kevin.

Brotwurst and Glugwine

Christmas markets! What a great idea. Where else can you get your Christmas shopping done; eat a variety of holiday delicacies including crepes, waffles, sausages, mushrooms, and goulash; and drink?

Glugwine stands seem to be the heart and soul of the Christmas market. And though I didn't like this hot, sweet wine the first time I tried it, it certainly grew on my as the Christmas season wore on. Though I was told repeatedly that glugwine was mulled wine, I think it was sweeter and less spicy than any mulled wine I've had in the States. But at 1 Euro and 50 cents per cup, who can complain.

The Problem With Medieval Cities

Kevin and I went to Aachen on Sunday. The Christmas market seemed to encompass the entire city center. The problem was the rain. After walking around the market for about an hour and eating a fantastic apple pancake we decided to pack it in for the day and return to Aachen when the weather was better.

When we tried to leave though, we couldn't find our way out of the town. Each winding little street seemed to bring us back to the same center square. Nothing looked familiar, and we couldn't find out way back to the car for about an hour.

The First Thanksgiving

My greatest German success thus far was ordering a 16-pound (8 kilo) fresh turkey from the butcher. Even though the German freezer cases were willed this frozen turkeys I have to order a fresh one because there was no way I could put a turkey in my mini fridge. (It's smaller than the average dorm fridge in the US.)

Once home, the next challenge was getting that bad boy to fit into my mini oven. It just fit – but part for the drums sticks cooked to the side of the oven and I have to truss the bird up as tight as possible.

In the end though I was delicious! In addition to the turkey I made all of the fixin's: sweet potatoes, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and apple and pumpkin pie. We invited Kevin's office and all of the Americans at the Goethe Institute (three). I think everyone enjoyed their first Thanksgiving.

My First Week of School

I don't know how much else I will be able to accomplish while attending German classes. They are super intense. Five days a week, five hours a day, plus home work and cultural activities. It's great though. I really love taking classes, I can't wait to learn German, and it's nice to meet other people who are new to the country.

On the first day of class I took a walking tour of Bad Godesburg. The picture here is the view of my new town from the Godesburg castle. The white L-shaped building is our apartment.

A German Sunday

On Sundays in Germany almost everything is closed. It’s mandated by law. (At least that’s what is says the International School of Bonn’s relocation guide). And while this puts the pressure on Saturday as a day to get errands accomplished, I think I may come to like the custom. Sunday’s with no retail really make it a day of rest.

This Sunday K and I did our first Voltzmarch, which is like an organized hike and the participants “Nordic walk” with poles and – if you’re an old school Germans – knickers and knee socks. K and I ran a 10 K course, but they also offered 5, 20, and marathon length routes. The flyer for the march offered some information in English under the headline “For Our American Friends in Wandering.” I think that perfectly describes the experience.

It was nice because it got us out into the countryside and showed us hiking trails and paths that we otherwise would not know about. This one offered wonderful views of the Rhein valley. (The first half of the run was uphill.)

House Party

Hip, hip, horary for Austrian national day! One of K’s colleagues hosted a house warming party. He’s Austrian and used the national holiday since he had friends from Vienna coming for the weekend. What made the party extra great was the fact that he also lives in the same building that K and I live in. He invited all of the neighbors, so it was a good time for us because we were able to meet a bunch of people who live in our building.

One woman suggested that we could exchange language lesson. She’s going to help me with my German and I’ll help her children with their English. Sounds like a plan to me. I told he I’d find her once I learned a little bit of the basics from my class.

The Rugby World Cup

Last night we went to the home of one of K’s colleagues to watch the Rugby World Cup. South Africa vs. England. The hosts were from Portugal and Tunisia and the guests included South Africans, Germans, and us. I enjoyed the very international flare.

Though the game was boring (and even the die hard fans conceited that it wasn’t a very interesting game), the food was awesome. I love the chicken curry, but was most excited by a Tunisian tanger. I am now obsessed with it.

Do You Speak English?

Well, we purchased a wardrobe – and it’s not from Ikea. Though I almost hate to admit it, we went into a furniture store, found a bunch of wardrobes, identified a sales clerk, and said “Is there a sales clerk who speaks English that can help up.”

Can you imagine if someone went to a furniture store in the US and said (in German) that they needed help in German? What kind of response would they get. I can guarantee that they wouldn’t walk out happy a clam with a wardrobe that could be picked up in the middle of the following week.

Ikea – The Same in Every County

Ikea again. Even in English Ikea can be a confusing, convoluted store to navigate. Trying to figure out how to purchase a wardrobe without being able to read any of the tags or speak to the sales sucked.

Amster, Amster...Dam, Dam, Dam

Amsterdam! Loved it! The red light district, which we had to check out, was interesting, but by no means the highlight. Instead I adored walking around, looking at the canals and crooked houses, which made my old apartment on First Avenue in New York seem as even as a level. The canals offered one image more picturesque then the next.

The Hague

Off to Dan Haag. (I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t realize that Dan Haag is The Hague until being in the city for a few hours.)

I found the city to be one of the friendliest places that I have visited – ever! Shortly after checking into our hotel K and I had lunch as a café called Cloors. We both had opened faced sandwiches on what the waitress called brown bread, but to us looked almost salmon colored. Then K was off to some meetings and I set out to explore on my own. Among my discoveries, observations, and questions in Dan Haas were:
• Hollandaise sauce…Holland-daise? Is this where is comes from?
• Why is Holland called The Netherlands? Why are people from The Netherlands (a.k.a Holland) known as the Dutch? And why are the people from The Netherlands are called Dutch, but Germany – in German – is called Deutschland?
• I love the Apple Options store in the Pavilion in the main shopping district. I went in to buy a new, European adapter for my computer and they showed me that the plug from my charger was removable and could be replaced with a European 220 volt plug. Then they gave me the plug that I needed. The owner simple said that when I return to the U.S. I should give them the plug back, which they would then give to someone else in need of an adapter. I’ll have to look up their address so I can send the plug back that end of my two years. I love the idea that it’s just on load.
• I went to the M.C. Escher Museum. Though the entry fee was listed as 6.50 Euros they only charged 5 Euros since I was entering toward the end of the day. I originally decided to go to this museum since it was within walking distance of our hotel. But, in retrospect, I was very happy to have made this decision. Small museums dedicated to a singe artist often provide an in depth overview of their work, their mission, and the progression of work over time. Prior to go to this museum I didn’t really like Escher. I thought of his prints as the stuff of college boy’s dorm walls. Although I knew that he was a print maker, I never really full appreciated that his actually carved his pieces and printed them. Also, I was interested in how Moroccan tile work influenced his art. (That Islam forbids creating figurative images was very interesting to me.)

We had a luck luster dinner in Dan Haag, but the funny and charming waiter made up for the restaurant’s short fallings.

Va Piano*

I met K for lunch today at this awesome restaurant near his office – Va Piano. It’s a business luncher’s dream. When you walk in you are given a card. Everything that you order is put on the card and when you leave you give the card to the cashier.

Then you walk through a bright and airy room, filled with counter height communal tables surrounded by benches, stools, and banquettes in blond wood and tan leather. Each table has a long, marble rectangular box – almost like a window box – that holds two small lamps, a few pots of herbs, salt and pepper grinders, and chili infused olive oil. In the center of the room was a huge terrarium filled with even more potted herbs. In the back is a counter with three stations – salads, pastas, and pizzas. After placing your order you are given a buzzer to let you know when your food is ready.

K and I each got a pizza – his with mushrooms and peppers, mine with mushrooms and proscutto (which turned our to be more like regular ham). The personal-sized pies had thin crusts and a smoky essence, the topping were not applied too heavily, but were enough that you have a piece in every bit or two.

Best of all, the prices seemed very reasonable. If this place were in New York it would be a packed mad house everyday. If this place were in Raleigh people might explode with joy.

* Note: Updates to this post were made on September 5, 2009...the restaurant is actually "Va Piano" not "Via Piano"

Starting to Settle In

Two good things happened today. First, we got word that our container cleared customs. The representative from the shipping agency originally told me that it usually takes six to eight weeks for shipments to arrive – which meant that we could have been furniture-less until the first week of November.

I’d love to be one of those people who doesn’t care about possessions, but I’m not like that. I love my stuff and have been walking around the apartment contemplating what will go where. And every night as I hunker down on the air mattress I wistfully recall the queen-sized pillow-top cloud of sleeping wonder that is sitting in a container somewhere in the port of Bonn.

The other good new of the day is that I registered for my German lessons. Starting October 29 classes will begin – five hours a day for two months. I can’t wait! I believe that so much will open up to us once I can communicate even a little bit.

Errands, A Lifestyle

My friend MQ told me that once I left my job I would not be able to understand how I was ever able to hold one and still get anything done. “Errands – a lifestyle” he called it. Today I understand this concept completely. Doing laundry, going to the market for tonight’s dinner, and washing the floors took me most of the day.

At first I couldn’t figure out how to insert a bill into the machine at the Laundromat to pay for the load. Unlike in the U.S., you do not insert money directly into the washing machine. Instead each machine has a number and there is one central console in which you insert your money and from which you turn the washer on. The problem that I was having is that I couldn’t figure out how to insert the bill. After a while a German man came in and I figured I’d watch what he did. (It was quite simple; the bill slot was shaped like a smiley face, not a straight line.) The guy noticed I was watching him and asked me (in perfect English) if I needed help. We talked a little (apparently he wanted to where I could possible come from that I didn’t know how to work a washing machine.) When he came back to get his laundry he brought me a cup of coffee.

After doing the wash I had to come home and hang everything up to dry. I am trying to be very European while I am here and not one single person used the clothes dry while I was there. K’s uncle just moved back to the U.S. after living in Germany for three years. He tells us that dryers are considered to waste too much electricity.

One thing that I can get really into about Germany is getting to shop at farmer’s markets everyday. But, even with markets that I know – like the Green Market at Union Square – I am not a fast shopper. It takes me one complete trip around the place to determine what I want. Then I have to go back and buy what I have decided upon. Here it takes even longer because I have no idea what to expect. Today, for example, in addition to have apples there were little baskets of plump raspberries. Is it raspberry season here? Will I see them all the time?

Six Obserations and Oddities

With almost a week under my belt, I submit the following observations and oddities:
• I can’t find a place to purchase a trash can, but I know of two stores where I can get a hajib
• Instead of drinking bottles of water after the Köln marathon finishes consume a pint of beer – this includes people from 14 to 80
• You have to bring your own bags (or baskets) to the market or grocery store
• The entire country is very environmentally conscious (which is why you have to bring your own bags)
• No one smiles on the street and no one says “excuse me” but everyone seems to be content
• The trains really do go everywhere – even in the suburb of Bad Godesburg

Stanton

Sad news. One of my cats – a tabby named Stanton – died early this morning. I don’t need to share the details, instead I want to eulogies Stan.

Stan was a great cat. Stoic and aloof, he had his spirited side as well. He was never mean, even when kicking Unions ass. Stan was American through and through. He like his big house, his walk-in closet, and eating the same food that he knew. Stan’s heaven is a town house in Raleigh with three floors worth of carpeting to scratch, room for two letterboxes, and a sun-drenched living room. I will always remember Stan laying spread eagle under the ceiling fan showing off his big, blond belly.

One Pot and a Frying Pan

I don’t know if it’s because I don’t know that much about German food or because there is a beautiful display of produce on every corner that I feel like cooking here. It may also because I’ve been in flux for so long – still am really if you were to see the state of our furniture-less apartment – that I am trying to create a feeling of home. Or, it could simply be that there is a chill in the air and I want to have something warm and delicious. Whatever it is, I am much more interested in making dinner at home than I am to go out right now.

This desire has presented a bit of a challenge if you consider what I have: a frying pan, a pot, two plates, bowls, and cups, a knife and cutting board, a colander, and a rag-tag mix of random utensils.

Last night it was sausage (I am in Germany after all) and eggs. Tonight yellow lentil soup – with more sausage. Though the meals may be simple and fit into one pot (or pan) they have done they have been hardy and tasty – exactly what I was looking for.

My New Favorite Store

I found the reason why I want to learn to speak German. It’s the little market around the corner from our apartment. The name, translated into English, is Fleishman's Hot and Cold Dishes. When I walked in I was overwhelmed with the most amazing smell of roasting something. I walked around and peered past the meat counter to the kitchen hoping I’d get a glimpse of something. The only thing that I saw was a stern looking German woman (whom I now think of as “the butcher’s wife).

In addition to the meat case, which also contained some prepared foods and cheese, the market has a small, but well edited selection of grocery. Among the items to catch my eye were a bevy of petite lentils in a rainbow of shades – red, orange, yellow, green, and a deep purplish black.

Zollkontrrolle

I arrived at the Köln/Bonn airport after a fairly uneventful flight. (Thank you, thank you, thank you to the flight attended that let me move my seat way from the man who needed a seat belt extender and couldn’t put the armrest down. That would have been seven very, very long hours.)

K was there to meet me and it seemed like the trip would conclude as easily as it started. All I needed to do was pick up the cats and we were off. Right? Wrong. Enter the German custom office (Zollkontrrolle). After locating the cats – which took some time and required that I sneak past a pack of airport security officers back into the baggage claims area – I was told that we had to pick up the cats in the cargo terminal. To get to the terminal we had to circle the airport several times. Once there was it took some convincing (via the one person we could find who spoke some English), calls back to the main terminal, and a thorough search of my person and the car before I was escorted past this check point Charlie. From there I had followed a security car to the cargo claim area. Even though the cats were there I was told that I wasn’t allowed to pick them up. To clear customs the cats needed to be seem by a vet, but because it was national holiday (the day of Germany’s reunification) the vet was not in.

Eventually the customs office convinced a vet to approve them over the phone and after one more stop at the customs office (mind you this was a completely different from all the custom offices I’d previously talked to) the papers were signed. All I had to do was pay 8 Euro per cat and, two and half hours after landing, I was finally free to leave the airport.

The Back Story

My (brand-spankin’ new) husband and I decided to move to Bonn Germany for two years. He got a job working for a cell phone company and I thought it would be crazy for us not to take this opportunity. Living in Europe, how excited was I? (Not to mention the fact that I would have to leave my job.)

I didn’t spend a semester abroad in college and, in retrospect, regret not having done that. Now I get to spend an extended period of time eating, traveling, studying, and writing. I expect to get more out of my time here now then I would have when I was 20-years old.

So, we packed up our house, sold the cars, and loaded my two cats into carriers (after many trips to the vet, numerous calls to the airline and government agencies, and a fair amount of stress on the part of my father). This is my account of what happens next: two Americans living and eating their way through two years abroad.