Been spending most our time living in a hiker’s paradise

If you think our snowy trek through the highest mountains in Europe has tattered our hiking shoes, think again. Kate and I just came back from a four night stay in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany’s alpine-skiing-cum-hiking-resort. And I’ll tell you, while standing on top of one of the foothills cowering beneath the massive massifs lumbering above I thought to myself: this is hiker pornography.

Joining us on this adventure was Pecos, my mom, her husband Bill, and two Jerseyite friends, Linda and Rick. Bill had rented a holiday house for the seven of us in a great area of town, only five minutes by foot to the quaint town center. We had all met there on Saturday and wasted no time getting to know the small Bavarian town renowned for its panoramic vistas, mooing cows, and edelweiss flowers.

Garmisch is beautiful. It is all things Bavaria – craggy gray mountains, rugged green slopes, cute onion-spired churches, and charming slanted-roof houses, all dutifully painted with the characteristic religious effigies made common throughout this Catholic state. Seeing this town is truly a trip worth making.

The journey, however, started with a deep, somber note, as we spent the first day looking for the best place to scatter my Oma’s ashes. Like most Germans, she loved the mountains, the edelweiss, and cowbells for more than their bucolic beauty (although beautiful they are). She loved what they stood for – a proud heritage of Germany itself.

Sure, there are Germans from the hilly wine region near us and Germans from the lowlands of the North and Baltic seas. My Oma, in fact, was from metropolitan Berlin (no mountains there). But deep down, she, like most Germans, admit – nay, declare – that the mountains and edelweiss of this alpine are, in fact, manifestations of Germania. This is Bavaria. And we spread her ashes in what we thought was one of the most agreeable spots of this state, located on the top of the wooded Eckbauer mountain trail, looking up at the high craggy mountains on the way to the dramatic gorge called the Partnachklamm. I’m sure some edelweiss will grow near her, just to hear the stories she has to tell.


After that task - the purpose of the trip - was complete, we headed down the mountain toward the gorge, making sure to stop off for a cool glass of beer at the various-shades-of-brown Bergasthof restaurant along the way.

This mountain, we knew, had one of the many ski jumps made famous in the 1936 Winter Olympics held here. The beer we expected (and had high expectations for). But the magnificence of the rushing blue-green water swiftly pulsing through the dramatic gorge took us all by surprise. It was a sunny day. It was warm. And the sky was a pale blue. Usually, you can’t get a more perfect afternoon. But the Acquafina-clear glacial water that was steadily carving away at the stoic rocks made it one heck of a memorable hike.

The next day we visited the Eibsee, a small glacier-fed lake in the middle of the rugged green peaks of the 5,000-foot alpine foothills. The water was a beautiful Caribbean green color, with hardly a plant or animal to be seen. The stony beach and gentle slope into the water provided a puppy playground for Pecos, who loved saving drowning stones almost half his size from the frigid abyss.

After a good 20 minutes throwing stones for the dog, we hiked the three hours around this magnificent lake, despite claims that it was only 1.5 hours. Slow? Yes. But relish we did in the beauty of the place!

The following and last full day we sauntered through a petite market town on the border of Austria called Mittenwald. This town has had a long connection with violins and is home to a violin-making museum and a statue of the man who founded the industry – Mathias Klotz.

But, despite its repute, we spent the afternoon ignoring violins and ambling into and out of the small shops selling Bavarian clothes, table linens, and handmade wood carvings of mostly religious figures – very popular here. We finished the afternoon in Mittenwald with some ice cream and, of course, its best counterpart: Bavarian beer.

Later that afternoon, just before the sun was setting, my mom, Kate, Pecos, and I took a slog up one of the slopes of a nearby mountain and found a solitary church overlooking the town of Garmisch. There, on that grassy lookout under the sunny skies above, all four of us stood in a state of bemusement. We had known Garmisch was a picture-perfect little town amid the foothills of the alps. We had seen the onion-topped spire of the church and had gawked at the cute steep-sloped Bavarian roofs. We had even smiled at the crystal-clear steam that runs right through the middle of this picture-perfect town. But, on that hilltop, we saw it all. Encapsulated within the soaring craggy alps. Illuminated by the bright dazzling sun. Contrasted with the surrounding green slopes. And even punctuated by a slow red train sliding along the side of the town at the base of the mountains. It looked like a train-set town….too perfect to be true. But, it was true. This was Garmisch. Where the edelweiss grow. And where Oma shall rest in peace.

A Few Days in the Swiss Alps

Wednesday morning found Kate, Jen, and I leaving Pecos and the comforts of the rolladen-darkened apartment behind at about 8:45am to pick Justin up from his office in Wiesbaden. Once Justin was securely back in the driver's seat of the spacious Ford Ka, we headed southwest-ish towards Stuttgart, Germany. Now, Stuttgart is not exactly "on the way" to Interlaken, but Justin had some work stuff he wanted to do on the base there, so we made the side trip.

While Justin was busy protecting U.S. interests on base for a few hours, Jen, Kate, and I headed to the "Burg Hohenzollern" castle about an hour away on Justin's suggestion. Being as it was a typical, cloudy German morning with virtually no visibility, we followed the signs up a mountain to the castle which was hidden behind the thick clouds. The castle turned out to be great and very castley...I think.

I did learn a few things while at Burg Hohenzollern:

1) German soldiers find Kate and Jen, shivering in rain gear, to be very "appealing."
2) Kate and Jen find German soldiers creepy.
3)My new favorite German word is "HundeBistro."


Once our bodies had had enough of the cold and dampness, we headed back to Stuttgart to reclaim the fourth member of our party and complete our trip to Interlaken, Switzerland.
After a good 5+ hour final leg of the trip, we pulled into Interlaken under the cover of nightfall. We headed to our hostel, Balmer's Herberge, with high hopes that it would be better than our accomodations in Amsterdam a few days earlier.




Balmer's turns out to be the oldest privately owned hostel in Switzerland and was quite a pleasant surprise. It was full of American college kids, lots of common areas, board games, magazines, fireplaces, and an underground (literally) nightclub. We were all worn out from our long journey, so we fell asleep pretty quickly with thoughts of the mountains we would see the following day in our heads, or mine, at least.

Thursday morning, we started our hike up the Alps in Gimmelwald and headed north. At first, we were on a nice little path...

After we stopped for a little lunch of cheese, bread, and fruit, Justin and Kate decided to, in the words of Kate's hero, Emeril, "Kick it up a notch." Needless to say, the hiking got a lot harder, fast. Soon, our friend, the paved path, was gone, and heavy, wet snow was in its place. This worked out okay for Kate and Justin and their hiking shoes. The New Balance and Asics sneakers that Jen and I had on were a different story. At one point, I knew I should turn around and take a picture of what we had just trudged through:

Soon, we found ourselves on a ski run with two other disoriented American hikers and quickly made our way to Allmendhubel, a little snowy town. Once in Allmendhubel, we sat down outside a little ski chalet/cafe and took in the breathtaking views. Pictures really don't do it justice, so I'm not even going to try...well, maybe one...

While we basked in the magnitude of the Alps, we did get to enjoy the musical stylings of these two gentlemen:
They sounded exactly like you would expect them to sound...

After our rest, we headed back down the mountain. We took a bahn (cable car) down the first half of the mountain and then hiked down the last half. Once back in Interlaken, we walked around and had some traditional Swiss food:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosti

The evening was capped off with a very difficult game of Trivial Pursuit 6 that Kate was able to walk away from victorious. However, must I remind her who the reigning Pictionary champs are?

On Friday, once we checked out of Balmer's, we wanted to bahn/hike to some glaciers, but found the bahn out of service for the season. We regrouped and decided to hike from Grindelwald to Bort. We opted for the "Sport/Easy" trail and got started. This trail took us up through some beautiful, dense German woods.


The hike to Bort gave me a chance to, besides sweat all over my shirt, observe Justin and his fondness for precipitation in the form of crystalline ice water, better known as snow. One might attribute this fondness to growing up in Pennsylvania with its snowy winters, or simply to the lack of oxygen way up in the Alps. Either way, Justin loved eating snow, picking up big chunks of it,

sticking his arm as far into it as he could, and jumping into it whenever the chance arose.

Once we arrived in Bort, we enjoyed one last Swiss meal and a final bahn ride downhill before starting our journey back to Wiesbaden.

Interlaken and its surrounding areas are the stuff dreams are made of, literally. If you are ever planning a trip around Europe, put it near the top of your list.

*Big thanks to Kate, Justin, and Mr. P for all of their hospitality during our trip and for letting me be a guest blogger.

Wiesbaden Vista

First off, I have some exciting news. We finally got our new computer after a month of waiting. It is silver and shiny and nowhere near as wonderful as I hoped it would be. Don't get me wrong, I like the new computer, I just don't know how much I like Windows Vista. It is not compatible with any of the programs or web-based applications I use for work and school. So it seems I will continue to work on my old, virused Toshiba at the little desk, and will ocassionally look over to my nice big desk and see the pretty silver laptop that made me cry today.

Come on web and program developers! Develop some patches to Vista, or whatever it is you can do to make my life easier.

OK, back to actual blog-worthy stuff. As you all know, Edward and Jen were with us for the past week. It was wonderful to have them and to get to spend a solid chunk of time with Edward. I love my brother very much and it was wonderful to have him here.


Justin left off his last blog with us smooshed in the car and heading to Wiesbaden. The drive was tight, but smooth, and we arrived intact to our apartment around dinner time on Sunday. Pecos greeted us with all the excitment he could muster (as shown above). In his defense, Pecos did perk up a bit when we started eating delicious Turkish take-out for dinner.


On Monday, Edward and Jen got to enjoy a day-in-the-life-of Kate. It began with me working (note the crappy computer, big desk combo picture above), and Edward and Jen sleeping in. Their sleeping in was greatly aided by the use of the Rolladen. Rolladen are basically metal shutters that you can roll down to different levels to block light (or thieves) out of a room. Edward, who would sleep in a cave if he wouldn't be considered a hermit, loved the Rolladen. He even took a picture of them; though they are only partially closed in the picture below.


Once I finished working, I took Edward and Jen to exciting places like the library, PX, and commissary. When Justin joined us after work, we went up to Neroberg, the wooded mountain above Wiesbaden. We enjoyed a Wiesbaden vista, a walk in the woods, and a tree that would make a good hiding spot. After a dinner of chilli, we all retired for the evening.


On Tuesday, Edward and Jen finally got to enjoy a bit of Germany. We headed up the Rhein to the picturesque town of Rudesheim. Here we walked around and noted the furious efforts of the town folk to prepare for the tourists that will soon be upon them. As we were a bit early in the day and the season, the town was not as exciting as it could be.


We left Rudesheim and continued up the Rhein. We admired the many castles en route and looked at the big rock that is immortalized in German folk-legend as the Lorelei (not named after Lorelei Gilmore from the Gilmore Girls, surprisingly). After a quick ferry across the Rhein, we headed back south, to Justin's, Pecos's, and my favorite Rhein-destination, Bacharach.


Justin and I enjoy Bacharach for its quaintness and its devotion to the wine god, Pecos likes Bacharach for its easy access to the Rhein and Rheinsteins,and I think Edward and Jen came to like Bacharach too. I'm not going to bore you with the wonderfulness of Bacharach (I think it's appeared in at least three other posts), just accept that it's a great town, unmatched in its charm, and that if you come visit, I'll probably take you there.


After enjoying some Bratwurst, we headed back to Wiesbaden to join Justin. Justin took us on a driving tour of Wiesbaden that ended at the Ratskeller--the place to go for authentic Bavarian grub in Wiesbaden. After gorging ourselves on meat and beer, we headed home to dream about the Swiss Alps. Edward will fill you on that venture soon.


PS: To any concerned fans (namely those whose names start with an L and end with an iz), Edward's mustache was temporary, though it will be immortalized in the blog forever.

Holland's Opus with Edward and Jen

Edward and Jen were in for a double-blink awakening. And they knew it.

After spending a combined total of three high-class weeks practically bathing in the largess of Jen’s wealthy employer – which included business-class transatlantic flights, expensive dinners, and five-star lodging in the heart of Piazza del Popolo in Rome – this couple boarded a flight to Amsterdam where they’d meet up with us and shed their top hats and tails for cheap flats and trail mix. (And for some reason, funny glasses).

The weird part: they were happy about it. Does money really not buy happiness. Edward and Jen were about to find out.

We met at a cheap international budget hostel called the “International Budget Hostel” in a cute neighborhood in what could still barely be called the southwestern corner Amsterdam proper. The hostel was located directly off Prisengracht, one of the three main canals in Amsterdam that ring the old city. Like many things in Amsterdam, the hostel was tall, skinny, and overpriced – but well worth it!

The sibling reunion was celebrated by taking cues from the locals – eating Indonesian fast food (prevalent in the city thanks to the Dutch East Indian Company’s trading/migration routes with former Dutch colonies in Asia) getting poop stuck on your shoe (as seen above), trying on wooden shoes (below), and drinking Heineken beer (a local brew, of course).

The next day, Saturday, was sunny and warm. Kate, Jen, and I decided to leave the confines of the skinny roach motel as early as we could and tread down the street to the Anne Frank museum, which is housed in the actual building where Jewish wartime diarist Anne Frank hid with her family from Nazi persecution for almost two years. Instead of a picture of that, here's the Heineken logo:

Although distressing in a poignant way, the museum tour was relatively quick and painless and almost made up for the lack of tact exhibited in the gift shop. To deal with the twinge of sorrow I’m sure we were all feeling afterward, we coped by eating some famous Dutch stroop waffles (syrup cookies). Yum!

Then, after meeting up with Edward, we decided to keep with the mantra of affordable tourism and opted for a short stroll in Amsterdam’s Vondelpark – the largest city park in Amsterdam loved by both locals (jogging, roller-skating, pushing prams) and tourists (sitting on benches, lazing in the grass) alike.

After benchwarming and gawking at the locals and their well dressed children, we stepped onto a small hop-on, hop-off canal boat. Here, I made friends with a very cute dog.

On the boat, we took a very nice tour around the city. And tour we did – from the flea market to the flower market to the festive food sites (we got Indonesian again), we hopped and bopped around the old canal city, really getting a feel for what it was like to be an Amsterdammer. The only thing that could have made us feel more authentically Amsterdammish that day is if we’d have rented bikes (the main mode of transportation) and stuck our fingers in some dykes (the dams, that is).

We finished Saturday by bumbling upon an old Dutch restaurant, looking at the menu, and deciding instead on the Chinese buffet next door, where I apparently ate more than Jen had ever seen consumed. And she had even been to Sea World once.

The next day we decided to ring in the spring by exploring the flower gardens of Keukenhof, located about 30 minutes south of Amsterdam.

Keukenhof was a great reprieve from the gray and cobbley corners of Amsterdam. And the fragrences! Can't you almost smell the flowers through the screen?

Anyway, I know I for one enjoyed Keukenhof very much and highly recommend it to anyone with a sense of smell and a penchant for smiling when looking at flowers. But, while the spirit-lifting infusion of color and fragrance certainly put springs in our steps that day, it prepared us poorly for the next five sedentary hours of driving back to Wiesbaden.

An Edward and Jen weekend in Holland

Coming soon.

Auf der Reeperbahn, nachts um halb eins!

Prostitutes prostitutes prostitutes! Let me tell you, if there’s one thing that sets the city of Hamburg apart from its brother and sister cities throughout Germany, it’s not the history, politics, or economy…it’s the ladies of the night.

OK, first a little setting: Kate and I went to Hamburg for a week to take a class on Germany. I had to do it for work and Kate, well, Kate was nice enough to come along and provide me with distractive notes and drawings during class. We both learned a thing or two about our host nation and can now proudly say that the American education system should probably never be critiqued by a German, as their system is apparently no better.

Hamburg, for those who may not know, is big and beautiful, complete with lots of green areas (above) and lots of wet areas (below).

It plays second fiddle to Berlin for the rank of Germany’s largest city, but manages through its booming port to squeak by with the title of “largest economy.” It is one of three city states in Germany – the others being a small coastal neighbor called Bremen and, of course, Berlin.

Speaking of Bremen, we actually stopped by this Hanseatic port on the drive up to see what this diminutive city-state had to offer foreign travelers.

The answer: not much. The best Bremen could muster was an old windmill, Becks beer, and this peculiar manifestation of a Brothers’ Grimm story called the Bremen town musicians.

Here’s the link to the story; it’s kind of cute: http://www.fln.vcu.edu/grimm/bremereng.html

OK, back to the prostitutes…. The class was held in a moneyed suburban neighborhood called Rissen, located on a hilltop overlooking the Elbe River. On two of our nights there, Kate and I were able to jog around the woodsy hillside and watch the sun set behind big old ugly juggernaut container ships. Nice, in a post-industrial-commerce kind of way.

On another night, we were able to go out on the town, drink a couple beers, and remark at the inimitable locale of St. Pauli – the seedy region best known for its ladies.

According to hamburg-tourism.de, the area is apparently more than just strip shows and sex shops. They have musicals and cafes, the site argues. But, come on. An area does NOT earn the distinction as every North Sea sailor’s favorite port for having cafes and musicals. Unless they’re fans of the Village People’s “In the Navy,” that is….

Kate and I enjoyed the area, actually, not because we partook in any of the sordid activities there, but because it seemed like a fun, alive, and interesting subculture that, to former urbanites like us, seemed pretty non-threatening.

Perhaps, though, that was due to the regulations there. Like most things in Germany, there are lots of rules there – specifically concerning the prostitutes there who, funnily enough, all wore similarly colored pink jackets, tight washed out blue jeans, and had their hair blanched light blond. Apparently, they all have to abide by stringent solicitation rules on times, places, and methods of solicitation. Like Amsterdam, there’s an area where there are negligee-wearing ladies summoning gullible and desperate prey to their windows with their siren-like ways. Unlike Amsterdam, however, this area is completely closed off to minors, women, and those at high risk of heart failure.

To be fair, there was more to the city than that. Gastronomically, it’s home to the hamburger, for instance.

We also happened upon a city fair while there where we rode the vomit-inducing “High Energy” ride, which was basically like a cat-o-nine-tails that flips and spins at the same time. Blarf!

So, it was a good week as well as a fun week and sure as heck beat going to work for a week. The dessert to this dish, though, was the weekend, which we spent in Amsterdam with Kate’s brother, Edward, and his girlfriend, Jen.

Here's Edward with a mustache! More on that later...