Your message is as clear as … poo
Jeff and I took the pooches for a long walk to the biergarten yesterday. On our way home, we found numerous messages along one particular stretch in a nice neighborhood and on a well-groomed, tree-lined walkway. These signs were held down by … doggy bags:
Your message is as clear as ... poo?
We took a picture so we could Google-translate it later. Literal translation:
“And who is its processing to that shit now my clear away?
-I do not care?
Then allowed to grow very quickly throughout the problem-a huge. not for them. only for those of us who live here.
-The city?
They call it there please and let you know that they have disposed of that shit here.
Or perhaps they?”
I find the output of Google translate to read a lot like old English, bringing me to flashbacks of literature classes when I struggled to uncover meaning in a language I was/am fluent in.
Regardless, my takeaway was that these residents are not pleased with the dog shit in their ‘hood.
Later in the evening, Jeff and I witnessed a local get out of their car, dispose of their garbage in a bush along the park, and then proceed to go enjoy the gorgeous garden they’d just soiled. We had a front-row seat to this brazen act.
Perhaps subconsciously taking a clue from the silent poo protests we’d witnessed earlier, we Google-translated this message and placed it under their wiper blade:
“Bitte legen Sie Ihren Müll, wo es hingehört. Danke.”
Translation: “Please put your garbage where it belongs. Thank you.”
A piece of Pisa pizza
Now that I’ve come up with this rad headline, I am disappointed that I didn’t take a picture of my lunch. It was one of the thinnest thin-crust pizzas I’ve had, with roasted eggplant, peppers, onions, and big gobs of melted mozzarella. Mmmmm. I will never get sick of Italian food!
The restaurant was right by the train station, Stazione Pisa Centrale, which I managed to find on my own. Jeff, this is proof that I am capable of navigating — even if I prefer to feign incompetence when you’re around. It’s just easier that way.
Pisa Central Station (I actually took this on the way back to the station in the event you're paying attention to the clock. In which case, you're also very detail-oriented.)
Lindsay left early Monday morning to fly from Florence, to Munich, to Newark, to Albany (sounds miserable doesn’t it?). I slept in and left on a 9:28 train to Pisa, where I’ve never been and coincidentally from where my exceptionally cheap flight left later in the day (I actually wrote this in notepad on the plane, as I jammed to my neighbor’s tunes).
The train was easy and the ride was just about an hour long, but there was little in the way of actual instruction on how to get to the Pisa-bound train from the main Firenze station. I bought the ticket to Pisa, but the boards did not list a platform for the city. Turns out, the final destination was another town (don’t remember the name), so a tip here is to just search by departure time. I’m almost positive that no two trains leave at the exact same moment. At least that’s what I gathered from the Trenitalia employee who was speaking only in Italian to me, while pointing at his watch and looking frustrated. Dumb tourist moment.
Once in Pisa, I quickly found the baggage drop at the train station, where I deposited my luggage for 3 Euros (I’ve discovered most stations either have lockers or some version of a storage system, which makes quick stops easy — even when carrying a boatload of crap). Seemed secure, but I made sure to hold onto everything most valuable — including my new leather jacket, which I was certainly grateful for on that particular windy day. (No wonder the tower is leaning.)
The 6-Euro map of the city I purchased proved to be a waste given the hurricane-strength gusts that made it almost impossible to open and read. Fortunately, the main attraction is easy to find — basically, walk straight out of the station for about 15 minutes, then over a bridge and to the left at the Roman-looking wall. This will bring you straight to the leaning tower and the city’s duomo, or cathedral.
Here are some shots of the walk and the main attraction.
Building on the way to the tower. Notice, the sky is somewhat ominous.
The road to the tower.
There is amazing stuff to see EVERYWHERE in Italy. Just a random clock/bell tower.
The bridge you must pass over.
I guess this is Mr. Pisa, himself. And some randomly placed artwork.
Just like these windows.
Since I couldn't use my map, and my new "European" phone wouldn't connect to data, this was my first clue that I was headed in the right direction. Field trip!
The random Roman wall I referenced. Turn left here and you'll see the tower.
There it is! Truly breathtaking. And it looks so oddly placed, kind of like someone cut it out and just pasted it there.
Another shot.
The absolutely impressive cathedral behind the tower.
Proof I was there. Believe it or not, this was the best self portrait I captured. At least you can see further evidence that it was, in fact, windy.
Another random Pisa shot.
And another church just nestled in the buildings on my way back to the train station, right before my delicious Pisa pizza.
That concludes the day in Pisa. From here, I managed one more successful train ride to the Pisa airport (about 5 minutes) and was back home by 8 p.m. What a day!
More on Lindsay’s and my last day in Florence later. Can you just feel the suspense?
Florence day 2, part 2: baby lamb, Boboli, paper
Following Saturday’s market, we had a jam-packed day that went something like this (unfortunately, I don’t remember the EXACT order).
We walked and did a little more shopping with our hosts. The whole city feels like a big outdoor market on the weekends, with stands selling everything “Italiano” — olive oil, truffles (my new obsession), aperitivo, vino, and lots of leather (belts, jackets, purses, gloves). I bought a delish truffle “relish.” I want to put it on everything — bread, pasta, my finger.
Here's the crew...walking.
A neat shot from our walk. A carousel in front of this old archway on our way to lunch.
Then, for lunch.
This was the wine Dan picked. It was super yummy. Remember it.
After some seriously delicious pizza and vino, we had to re-energize with coffee. Here's Lindsay and her tiny little macchiato. This is unlike anything you get at Starbucks.
We continued strolling, stopping at a few paper stores. Florence is known for stationary and marbled paper — something I did NOT know until Lindsay, my paper-obsessed travel buddy, informed me of this interesting piece of trivia.
Here's a woman actually creating marbled paper. This was later in the day, but the demo fits better here in my story.
Then, onto leather jackets. In 2010, I regretted not purchasing one. I had just started my business and was a lot more careful with my spending. Fortunately, el presidente and Terese were regulars at this particular store, and we got their discount. It was almost too good of a deal to pass up (we’re talking, they knocked off like 160 euros). Jeff agreed I made the right choice: “You couldn’t have afforded NOT to buy that jacket.” My thoughts exactly.
Here are Lindsay, Terese, and I sporting our purchases later in the day. I sort of talked Lindsay into getting one (Terese helped), but she was clearly pleased she had caved. She will look soooo cool going to concerts in this authentic Italian leather, undoubtedly impress her new beau, and just look far more sophisticated and trendy than any of her U.S. colleagues and friends (especially in central NY).
Here we are with Terese. She's wearing a previously purchased jacket, too.
I was a little upset when I found out my jacket was made of baby lamb. Don’t hate me, animal-loving friends. The lamb was already dead and probably organic. And he’s really soft. (Sorry). A tip for those of you considering a jacket — don’t ask what it’s made of.
After we dropped our goods off, we continued on to more touristy sight-seeing things.
The basilica of San Lorenzo, the oldest church in Florence and where the famous Medici family is buried.
Same church, San Lorenzo, different view.
The inside courtyard was also very beautiful, with an orange tree planted in the middle.
San Lorenzo courtyard area. Orange tree. Go 'Cuse.
From here, some more museums and then on to the Boboli gardens behind the famous Pitti Palace, an excessively opulent home to the Medici family (we went inside on Sunday, so hang tight).
I realize I didn’t take many pics from the inside of the gardens, but the views of the city and of Tuscany are amazing. Here are just a few photos.
View from Boboli Gardens.
Tourist shot!
A view of olive trees from the back end of the Boboli gardens.
Not sure what to say about this one.
This somewhat concluded our day. We had a fab dinner later that evening at Ristorante la Giostra, where there’s a human menu recited from the owner who models his style after Jack Sparrow.
More to come, but for today, I am outta time. More on the inside of the Pitti Palace and my day trip to Pisa tomorrow!
Ciao.
Firenze day 2, part 1: A whole pig
The markets in Florence are amazing. Don’t expect a full-size grocery store in an Italian city. Instead, you have specialty shops and stands and markets. Local cheese, fresh pasta, ripe fruits and veggies, and Italian honey.
Saturday morning, the four of us ventured first to the big open-air market (if that’s what you call it), which also had an indoor portion that I think you can shop in most of the week. Here are some shots from Mercato di Sant’Ambrogi.
I’m a huge fan of the colors.
Fresh produce. And squash blossoms (I think), which they cook on the Food Network all the time but don't sell in the U.S., at least anywhere I can find.
Love this woman's expression.
Here's an entire pig, which gets roasted and then sold off by the body part you happen to crave. This stand also sold the most delicious Gouda cheese, which was more like butter than anything else. So good.
That’s all for the market. I broke my promise about the leather jackets and Boboli Gardens. Stay tuned til tomorrow for Firenze day 2, part 2.
Arrivederci!
FIR-EN-ZE, Day 1
Now that you’ve heard about the journey, let’s talk destination.
Lindsay has friends with an amazing guest house in Florence, just in the shadows of the famous Duomo (Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore). The Duomo might be one of the most magnificent structures I’ve ever seen. When Jeff and I visited in 2010, we spent hours just circling it at night, vino in hands, constantly awestruck.
Duomo and tower.
The Florence Duomo.
The door of the Bapistry immediately next to the Duomo. Depicts scenes from the Bible.
Clock inside Duomo -- tells time by hours until sunset.
The inside of the Duomo is actually quite plain (yet incredibly beautiful), except this magnificent ceiling, which has been created on the inside of the dome, itself.
Terese, our hip hostess with the mostest, took us to numerous sites on Friday — the day we arrived. One of our first stops was “the David” and other key attractions at the Academia Gallery. We happened to run into a professional tour guide and personal friend of our hosts. Using his language skills, he got us into the museum quickly (Terese’s pass helped too) and spent at least an hour providing an in-depth art history lesson.
(An aside: Tour guides in Italy are unionized and licensed, and there are heavy fines for performing this job without the right papers. Police will actually stop and ticket. Crazy!)
Some tidbits about the Biblical David. Michelangelo (“M”) sculpted him at around the age of 25 (sometime between 1501 and 1504), and in his interpretation, he catches the moment David sees the Goliath — sling in hand and ready to attack. Other famous artists before “M” had sculpted David, post-battle, with the head of the slain enemy. “M” was the first to capture the expression and emotion immediately prior to attack.
Here's a picture of the 15-year-old David. He CLEARLY does not looks his age. (This pic was taken on my first trip to Italy just moments before I was scolded for using a camera).
We also learned from our guide that David is not just marble, but he is actually politics. His left-facing stature is a warning to the Medici family: stay in Rome.
A fun fact! Michelangelo was actually gay. Are you surprised? Look at the bod on this sculpture. He also lived until the ripe age of 89, more than double the life expectancy of his time.
I am constantly amazed at how prolific these artists of the Renaissance were. M has about 48 known sculptures, plus paintings, plus architectural design work. He did have assistants/employees, though. They helped him on the sculpting side by chiseling away chunks of marble and getting pieces down to the basic shapes, but the man, himself, always did the fine finishing work — creating the muscle tone, smoothing away the rough edges, etc.
Travel/sightseeing tip — The Academia Museum is the only place (or one of the only places) where you can see the unfinished works of Michelangelo, which helps demonstrate the process of the carving and sculpting. As you face the David and walk through the gallery of M’s work, one of the sculptures on the left has Michelangelo’s signature — a sketch of his face — which he used to mark his marble. I didn’t dare take a picture this time around.
Anyway … enough with the writing. Here are a few more shots from our first day in Florence.
Lindsay making music on this water-filled bowl thingy. The Academia Gallery also has a large instrument exhibit, including some of the first pianos ever made.
It was rainy when we arrived but turned into a great weekend. Here are Lindsay and Terese, right around the Ponte Vecchio bridge. I love all the umbrellas in the background. Warning though -- people here are dangerous with umbrellas (and just in general) and abide by no commonly accepted rules of order. Very UN-German.
A famous sculpture, the Rape of the Sabine Woman (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Rape_of_the_Sabine_Women). This is a huge deal in the art world because of the elaborate sculpting work, especially the imprint made on the woman's lower cheek. This is also one of the first sculptures created with the intent of being viewed from all angles.
In the evening, we enjoyed dinner at one of our hosts’ favorite restaurants, and Terese’s husband (we’ll call him “el presidente,” or just Dan) joined us for dinner. I had lasagna, of course, because it’s my favorite meal on the planet. It was truly the bomb. (I’ll try to get the name of the restaurants and post later).
Stay tuned for day 2 photos and notes tomorrow, featuring tips on purchasing leather jackets, a photo tour of the Boboli Gardens, a great indoor/outdoor food market, and more.
Dogs on a German Farm
I am in Florence with my dear friend Lindsay, staying in an amazing (free) guest house and thinking about the journey to get here (more on Firenze later).
First and foremost, I do not have the luxury of a stress-free girls’ weekend when Jeff is also flying. Must find home for the hundes. Thanks to Deb M, who is constantly saving the day, we found a great boarding facility on a farm in the sticks for 29 euro a day (cheap). The owner is a vet, and the place is great! Big dog rooms with heated floors and a doggie door to a fenced in outdoor “garden kennel.”
The catch — it is 22 km from where we live and about 20 euros, two hours, and a huge pain in the ass away by train. Thanks to a friendly post on the “friends and family” Facebook page, Zuhkra and Ilenia saved the day. Car ride to the farm!
Lindsay had the pleasure of joining us. All good, minus the rush hour traffic. This particular place only allows drop offs between 8 and 9 hours or 18 and 19 hours (6-7 pm). Standstill on the autobahn. Not something they advertise.
Lindsay joined us for this particular ride, with Kaya on her lap and Breezy panting by her side. We got somewhat lost in the process, only to discover some roadside goats that prompted Kaya to growl, scratch at the car door, and let out some stinky excited farts. Meanwhile, I am struggling getting clear English directions (why would I speak German in Deutschland?).
We finally arrive. Place was perfect and as described above. I made everyone aware that Kaya can squeeze through tight fence posts and that Breezy is required to eat out of her special bowl to prevent choking. I got a pretty standard response on the fence thing — “in 12 years, no dog has ever escaped.” famous last words, but so far no phone calls.
The remaining journey was pretty simple. I’ve never gone from my house to the Koln/Bonn airport on my own. Aside from my EC card having “insufficient funds” (thanks, sugar daddy), and an illegal ride on the 1 train, things were smooth. Fortunately we got tickets for the S Bahn because we were checked, and I don’t wanna get locked up.
Then to German Wings, where the flight attendants (at least in the ads) still look like Charlie’s Angels. I’ve heard from everyone that this particular airline is all about “nickel and diming.” I was pleased. It may have been our fare, but for 66 euros, I got to Pisa with one free checked bag and an actual sandwich and coffee on the plane.
One more short train ride to Florence, and we arrived in one of the tastiest, most artistic, exceptionally fun-loving, and incredibly chaotic cities anywhere. I love it!
More to come (and please forgive grammar and spelling errors. I’m typing this on an ipadlet).
A Coke Bier?
I’m not sure if this is a “German” thing or not, but Jeff and I had a random experience the other night at a local Thai joint.
Drink ordering time: I resort to my typical order — “Kolsch.” It’s the local beer (or bier), and everyone has it so it’s safe, and I (typically) don’t have to worry about my pronunciation. It might be Scion or Reissdorf, but every restaurant carries a Kolsch.
So you can understand my dismay when the waiter brings me a COKE (not Kolsch) and then scurries off. Jeff and I decide it’s probably an English-to-German-to-Thai mistake.
Waiter comes back — “Kolsch, not COKE, bitte,” I say. “Ah, entschuldigung,” he replies. He takes the Coke.
He then returns with a very dark looking bier in a Kolsch glass. Kolsch is always light.
First swig. “It’s sweet,” I tell Jeff. He tastes. “Oh yea.”
“Did they put coke in my Kolsch?”
“Mayyybe.”
I decide not to attempt another order, so I drink it.
When the waiter comes back, he asks, “Another coke bier?”
Mystery solved.
broken in norway
i know it’s been a while since my last update. it’s not intentional, just had some things going on.
the least exciting thing that happened to me was a nice, fat european cold. it plugged up my sinuses real good. picked that thing up while finishing a trip (thankfully not in the middle of it) and it hung around for a good 10-11 days. so that interfered with a lot, including some really nice weather when i would much rather have been drinking beer in a garden somewhere. hopefully that fills my quota of colds for the next several months.
beyond that, as Allison mentioned, we got all moved in to our new place. it’s pretty awesome. a huge park right out the front door, great food and drink very close by and a nice yard in back that every once in a while makes a nice dog track. it’s so nice to be able to let our two pooches run to their heart’s content unencumbered by leashes. naturally, kaya feasts on whatever nasty thing happens to be on the ground while we’re back there. we’re not really sure what it is she eats back there but my guess is mouse poop. the area around us is kind of lousy with mice. thankfully the mice haven’t shown up inside, probably due to the german insistence on having an air-tight living space. maybe the mice are the reason for that, or at least part of it. whatever, hopefully kaya gets tired of eating whatever that stuff is cause i’m pretty sure it’s gross.
our place is great though, 1.5 baths, 2 bedrooms, sweet kitchen (with a quiet dishwasher) and a pretty massive living / dining room area that overlooks the park. it was a little more expensive than some other places but still well within our budget. i’m glad we happened upon it with a little help from a co-worker. thanks tricia and andrew.
the work side of things is going well. i’m starting to feel a little more at home with my new company and equipment. the plane is forgiving and thankfully so are the other pilots. although, we did manage to break something on our way into norway this morning. well, we didn’t really break it, it just broke on its own. it’s a valve between the engine and the wing that is pretty important and not readily available. and now we have a little time to sit and contemplate the norwegian way. first lesson in norway is: expensive. train to downtown? 32 bucks please (USD). one way. beer in the hotel bar? 15 dollars (again USD). but the folks are friendly and courteous and i get the impression they speak english better than me (i?). they probably at least use capital letters when typing. weirdos. this trip has involved some interesting body clock adjustments too. first night starts at 1am and ends at 8am. sleep the day away then turn around and end about 1am. 24 hours later, start again, end at 8am and repeat. oddly enough, sleep and fatigue haven’t been a problem. i am apparently blessed with my dad’s natural gift of sleep. thank you dad. the best part is, when we finish at 1 or 2 or 3 in the morning and i make it to the hotel bed, i feel perfectly justified in sleeping till noon or whenever. i’m recovering. that justification makes for a nice, squishy pillow. the only time that gets jacked up is when there is a delicious free breakfast in the morning. sleep is important, but that breakfast buffet has an expiration time to it. my bed will still be waiting when i get back.
hopefully we aren’t staying in norway too long, it’s nice but there are many things to do at home. like buy and install light fixtures. that’s another german apartment-ism that i can’t remember if i addressed before. the previous tenant moved in and installed their own light fixtures and when they left, they took them. perfectly normal around here. so now we have loose, live wires exposed on the ceiling in various places throughout the apartment. the ceilings are high though so not to worry.
all for now.
Super fast update!
We’ve been negligent in our blogging, but we’ve been busy. The occasional downloaded episode of New Girl or Mad Men aside, we’ve hardly had a minute to breathe. So, before I get to work, a very quick update!
We finally moved into our new apartment in Lindenthal, which is a neighborhood within Cologne. We’ve got an enormous park to one side, and a street full of stores, restaurants, bakeries, and gelato shops (I kid you not) to the other side. I’m pretty much in heaven, and so are the dogs.
Our apartment is completely unfurnished, so we’ve bee occupied with buying furniture, assembling furniture, and wondering how we’re ever going to finish getting the place set up. But, we do have a bed, couches, a kitchen, and a new-to-us washing machine, so the place is definitely livable. We can certainly deal with the echoes for now.
Our shipment from the U.S. arrived last Thursday, and we finally got all six suitcases, two dog crates, and miscellaneous groceries and paperwork out of the Pullman on Friday. Unpacking our suitcases took longer than the entire shipment of air freight from the U.S. Probably weighed more too. Yay for elevators and strong husbands.
Jeff’s mom and step-dad took a detour on their trip home from a three-week Middle Eastern cruise to visit Cologne this past weekend. They arrived on Friday from Istanbul, and we spent Saturday and Sunday showing them the ropes. Despite hearing warnings that EVERYTHING would be closed on Good Friday and Easter Sunday, we managed to keep a fairly busy schedule:
- Delicious Italian food right across from Pullman on Friday. I think there are 70,000 Italians in this medium-sized city, so basically, I’m happy as a pig rolling in … you know. Lots of Italian specialty shops, as well, and the cheese here is super cheap. More on that later.
- Breakfast at a local backerei Saturday morning, followed by a tour of our new place, a tour of the Dom, and a huge pork-fest at a downtown brewery for lunch. Then onto some important shopping — the oil and vinegar store (one of my new favorites) and to ProMrkt for an alarm clock. In the process of our short shopping trip, I spilled hot chocolate all over myself and the bathroom stall in the shopping center, walked out embarrassed because I had no “tip” for the cleaning ladies, and came back later with a 2-Euro coin. And ya, you tip the bathroom “monitors” … if that’s even what they’re called.
- Easter Sunday was the best. Delicious breakfast brunch at the Pullman, followed by a walk down the Rhein, a tour of the Easter market (basically a big, awesome junk sale), 45 minutes in the Chocolate Museum, a short 1-hour river cruise, and a nap. Later, we met Jeff’s mom for some Chinese food, and this concluded the visit. They left super early this morning.
Today is considered Easter Monday in Germany, and it’s what they call a “bank holiday.” So most businesses, grocery stores, doctor’s offices, etc., are closed. The grocery store bit drives me nuts, but they’re always closed on Sundays, so I’ve almost come to grips with not having 24/7 access to a supermarket. Lots of Catholics here who still take religion very seriously. I think they also really like to relax.
Speaking of relaxing, I’ve done enough of that today. Must get to work now that it’s 8:30 a.m. in the U.S. But, more pictures, insights, and updates to come.
Tschüss!
A European Adventure 