Pompeii. Hey.
Finally. Almost a month later, I bring you some photos and commentary from our next Italia stop — Pompeii.
From Naples, we stuffed ourselves like sardines onto the Circumvesuviana commuter train to Sorrento. It was one of those situations when you think there’s absolutely NOT room left for even one toy poodle, but then two big Americans manage to contort their bodies to squeeze on board — complete with two pieces of luggage. It was not pretty. I have not been so crowded since the womb.
We initially planned to just get to Sorrento, unpack our belongings, and then map out our next three days visiting Pompeii and the Amalfi Coast. But once we found ourselves surrounded by four severely obnoxious backpacking (American) tourists, who dropped the f-bomb like a standard article, we opted to get off early in Pompeii, which is about halfway between Naples and Sorrento, despite the downpour. I also failed to mention the creeper who kept touching me and my belongings. That pushed me over the edge. Well, at least out the door. Here are some photos from the day.
Pompeii in the rain.
When Vesuvius erupted, people’s bodies were covered in ash, eventually leaving hollowed out fossils. These were later filled in with cement (or something like it) to show the exact position people died in. Creepy, but also cool.
I am so mature.
Every day, the Romans would flood the streets to clean them, leaving these rocks so people could cross without wetting their feet. Came in handy for us as well.
A street in Pompeii. On the right you can see what looks like a counter. This was actually a fast-food joint. People would go out to eat because homes were too small to cook in. Kind of neat. Thanks, Rick Steves, for the fun facts!
Completely drenched, we opted for some grossly overpriced pizza and vino to get in from the cold. My toes were numb. The wine helped a little.
I almost forgot. Part of the basilica, which was actually the Roman courthouse. This later became the basic footprint for many later Roman churches. (I think that’s me standing in the picture, covering myself and my soaked purse with Jeff’s raincoat. What a good husband.)
That’s it for Pompeii. I think this could typically be a wonderful day trip, but we only stayed inside the remains for 90 minutes, max. The rain was literally falling sideways, making the whole experience slightly less appealing. All in all, though, extremely cool. I always marvel at “wicked old” stuff, finding it completely fascinating to imagine how people lived thousands of years ago. We even managed to find what I think was an old toilet, making the trip complete. 🙂
From there, we headed off to Sorrento, where we’d soon meet the coolest bed and breakfast owner ever. Stay tuned.
As a little travel tip — Rick Steves provides wonderful free audiocasts of many of these tourist attractions. We listened to his Pompeii podcast later since managing the rain, umbrellas and camera was enough. But I highly recommend it.
“Erdbeer-Rhabarber” Pastry
Strawberries (Erdbeeren) are in season and they are soooo delicious. There’s a pick-your-own-Erdbeer place down the street, but we haven’t bothered to actually do the picking since there are also fresh-picked strawberries delivered right to the local Rewe.
Another food here that’s quite popular with the Germans — rhubarb — which has the coolest German translation: “Rhabarber.”
Anyway — what to do with this combination but make strawberry-rhubarb pie?! Well, sort of. Because I began this endeavor at around 8 p.m., I opted to buy pre-made pie crust. Unfortunately, this was not to be found in the local grocery store! With only puff pastry and pizza crust to choose from in the refrigerated section, I figured we’d give strawberry rhubarb puff pastries a try. And they were quite delicious!
Here’s the basic recipe, adapted from AllRecipes.com:
Ingredients:
- 3 cups cut up strawberries (about a pint)
- 3 cups diced rhubarb (about a pound). Make these pretty small.
- 1 cup, plus a couple tbs, white sugar
- 1/2 cup flower
- One egg yolk
- Butter (about 2 tbs, I guess)
- 2 rolls of pastry (or two sheets) — a.k.a. Blätterteig
Directions:
- Combine 1 cup sugar with 1/2 cup flower.
- Add dry mixture to chopped fruit.
- Stir and let mixture sit for about 30-45 minutes. This part is important. Don’t let impatience get to you.
- Cut pre-made puff pastry into about eight 5″ by 7″ rectangles (4 per sheet).
- Add strawberry rhubarb mixture to center of each puff pastry rectangle. Divide evenly.
- Add a couple dollops of butter to the top of the fruit mixture before sealing the pastry.
- Fold over the edges (so your pastry now resembles a small burrito) and seal with water (should have 1-1.5 inches of pastry overlap)
- Press the top and bottom edges with a fork to seal.
- Brush egg yolk over top, sprinkle with sugar, and cut some slits in the top to let steam escape.
Cooking:
- Arrange pastries on parchment paper or tin foil on baking sheet.
- Cook for about 25 minutes in a 190-200 C oven (about 400 F), until tops are golden brown.
- Let cool for at least 15 minutes.
- Serve with vanilla ice cream.
Enjoy!
Strawberry rhubarb pastry. Please forgive the awful camera shot. And the fact that I’d already taken a bite.
at home
allison has done an excellent job of keeping everyone up to date with things around germany. i’ll give you a little insight into what i think of all this too.
the weather
it does rain a lot. it seems like few days go by without some kind of rain happening. and yes, there are many kinds of rain. thankfully, the real good soakers seem to be a little more infrequent. most of the other stuff is just drizzle, spitting, sprinkles, whatever you call it. all in all though, the weather here is great. it’s the middle of june when we should be hiding indoors, cuddling up to an air conditioner (in atlanta at least). we spend all day and night with the windows open. but, cologne is at 51 degrees N latitude, about equal to Calgary in Canada. so the weather seems fine considering that.
the dogs
some germans do in fact dislike the way we are attempting to train our more active dog. at first, it is quite surprising to have some perfect stranger stop you and chatter away (or yell from across the street)  in german while pointing at the dog. i’m getting to where i can understand more and more every day and certainly when they start dropping ‘hunde’ (dog) and ‘polizei’ (police). the only thing i can assume is that all of these people that have had an issue with us are certified dog trainers and can tell from 5 seconds of interaction between me and my dog that i’m an insensitive human who doesn’t deserve a dog. i tell you what, kaya (the active dog) can pull me up a hill (granted a small hill) on my bike. me and my bike weigh about 235 pounds together. though she is small, she is mighty. i’d love to see some of these older ladies that have chastised me hold on to her for a little ‘walk’, especially when kaya catches sight of: another dog, a bird, a blowing leaf, a rabbit, etc… but, we are in their country, so i bite my tongue (not that i’m the type to talk-back anyways).
the apartment
this is coming along very nicely. we have lots of pictures up on the walls now, carpets on the floor and finally, light fixtures on the ceiling. and yesterday (june 21) we finally got our dining room table after about 7 weeks of waiting. we had to compromise on the chairs as the ones we wanted wouldn’t be ready till august, so we just got some different ones. and the chairs we ended up with are better anyways. we only have two barren walls left to cover. unfortunately, one of them is about 25 feet long so the options are many. i’m sure allison will come up with something.
drivers license
this is a new development. we have recently had access to another couples’ car and it has been nice. we can get big bags of dog food and not worry about carrying them to the train and then home. we can get bigger pieces of furniture or more importantly, bigger quantities of beer in a single trip. also, the next time a vacation comes along, we won’t have to bum a ride to transport our pooches to the kennel….again. so, there is a process to getting the license here. 1. get current license translated to something that is meaningful to the german authorities. 2. attend a first aid course (6.5 hourse in length) designed with drivers in mind (theoretically offered in english but the rumor is it’s all in german). 3. study for and take a written test (average study time needed – 15-20 hours). we’re hoping that is all that’s required of us. some folks have to take actual driving lessons (about 10-12 lessons, 1 hour each). we’re hoping that won’t apply to us. the lessons are determined by which US state you come from. and then there is the car. they have a couple car-sharing programs here in cologne. i’m hoping that’s going to be a good option as neither one of us is really interested in acquiring a car here in germany. we’ll keep you posted.
the language
hmmm. it’s a work in progress. my schedule doesn’t really lend itself to regular classroom attendance so most of my study is done online. there are a few good programs out there. unfortunately, with no instructor or grade to worry myself with, the study time is elusive. but i can understand more now than even after my 4th year of US high school german. unfortunately, that doesn’t mean a whole lot.
we promise the next post(s) will contain stuff about our trip to italy last month. just had to get caught up first.
catching up
sorry for the absence. i know everyone missed my writing with bad grammar, poor punctuation and lack of capital letters. but i’m back now. i’ll attempt to pick up where i left off.
my last post concerned me getting stuck in oslo, norway with a busted airplane. that was fine, we got to tour oslo a little and sample some of the 14 dollar (US) beers. it was delicious but yikes. we sampled some of the local fare which was quite delicious also. i couldn’t resist what i ordered, it was called “norwegian meat” plate or platter. the next question was, “one piece of ‘meat’ or two”?  as a general rule with mystery meat in foreign lands, go big… so… two please. my colleague ordered the “whale meat” plate. we were both very curious about what was going to show up when you order whale meat but alas, they were fresh out of the whale. must be a popular item. durn. my food:
norwegian meat plate
the brown item in the foreground with the onions on it is the meat. i’m pretty sure it was hamburger with brown gravy. kind of like a salisbury steak i guess. it was good though. after the food we did a little more walking. there are a couple of actual ski-jumps in oslo, a lot of government buildings, a few palaces, a big train station and a really cool opera house. the opera house is designed so that you can walk all over it. and i mean literally over it, the sides are ramps which lead you to the top. we didn’t actually go in the opera house but we did wander on it. pretty neat.
unfortunately, our hotel was out by the airport which was a 45 minute bus ride away. so, after food and touring it was back on the bus. our plane got fixed the following day and we were tasked with taking it to barcelona to put it back in service. we did so and then were released to go home. it was a good trip.
ersten Haarschnitt
Haarschnitt is an awful sounding word. But that’s what I got today. My first German haircut.
I’ve been putting this off for many reasons — (1) I am afraid to make phone calls in Germany; (2) I am afraid of German hair stylists, mostly because I’ve seen some of the ‘dos around here; (3) I am a procrastinator and would rather drink wine and watch past episodes of Dexter.
My first experience was pretty positive. Lovely English-speaking hair stylist, great head massage, pretty decent haircut. I lost 10 cm of hair, but it’s basically what I wanted. Also, they offer free coffee and tea, which I will definitely indulge in next time, given the “preise.”
Let’s just say this hair salon was kind of like the steakhouse of hair salons, with everything a la carte, including the “hair lotion” …
- Just a cut = 6-oz filet
- Blow dry = hair “style” = side of something expensive with, say, saffron
- Hair “lotion” = a glass of house vino
When my 33-Euro haircut turned into a 57-Euro haircut, I quickly realized it’s because the haircut was 33, the blow dry was 19, and the “hair lotion,” which I didn’t ask for (but that my stylist described), was 5 Euros. 5 Euros!
All in all though, I am happy. And I will pay the “preise” again just so I don’t have to step out of my comfort zone and find another salon. I’ll just be sure to read the menu.
das Wetter
I find it strangely coincidental that the German word for weather is “Wetter,” because truly, it could not get any wetter than Cologne (at least since we’ve been here).
Now, I’ve always loved the rain — slightly less now that I have two dogs.
This is what it looks like getting lost in the rain while walking a dog in Cologne. (This was taken in March).
But the rain makes it easier to focus on work, gives you an excuse to snuggle up and read a book, makes it acceptable NOT to go for a jog, but I’m over it. For so many reasons. One being that I get around by foot or bike.
For my fellow expats, it appears we have more to look forward to in Koeln. I pulled these stats off the World Weather and Climate Information page… apparently JULY is the wettest month of the year. Really? Really?
The facts:
- The months June, July and August have a nice average temperature.
- On average, the warmest month is August.
- On average, the coolest month is January.
- July is the wettest month.
- April is the driest month.
(Source: http://www.weather-and-climate.com/average-monthly-Rainfall-Temperature-Sunshine,koln,Germany.)
The last two bullets are absolutely shocking. Don’t put away those rain boots yet!
On the bright side, I may be more motivated to stay inside and study German.
Ha.
The dog saga continues.
Immediately after posting yesterday’s blog, I received this email from our RSB agent (the woman who helped us find our apartment). Impeccably timed. Apparently, our landlord still thinks it’s appropriate to communicate through her, rather than even attempting the Denglish necessary to speak with us directly. The email reads:
” Hi Allison,
I just left a message on your voicemail, but I’m not sure if you hear them.
I just get a call from [landlord]. She told me that the gardener at your house will not do the garden, as the garden would be full of dog sh…
I was a little astonished, as Jeff just told me, that you are very seldom using the garden.
Please be so nice and give me a call about it.
I’m sure there is a misunderstanding.”
We have not used the “garden” since the first week of May. Shit’s not ours! In fact, there’s no sheisse back there at all.
This is the same gardener who has taken more than a week to trim the hedges in the front of the apartment. Not with cuticle scissors, but with an actual gas-powered hedge trimmer. Sounds like someone is looking for an excuse not to work. Surprise!
Anyway – after some communication, the landlord has decided not to blame us (gee, thanks). But because there is “clearly” poo-poo in the backyard, she is changing the lock on the gate so no one can go back there. Logical.
Mind your own business
Let me back up.
Starting about the week after we arrived in Cologne, Germans began commenting on how we walk Kaya. Now, Kaya is a tough dog. She pulls like a freaking reindeer, and we’ve been doing everything we know how to do in order to maintain control without actually hurting her (no pinch collars, no electric shock devices, no barbed harnesses … despite how tempting). One method we use is “the Caesar hold,” keeping the collar high up on her neck — per the recommendation of both the Dog Whisperer AND our German dog trainer — so she keeps her head up and can’t pull as hard. Now, she still pulls, which sometimes leads to her front legs lifting off the ground, and the occasional hacking noise escaping from her throat. While this may not look pleasant, it’s pretty damn obvious to me that the dog is doing this to HERSELF.
Well, not according to some.
The first two women who stopped us were fairly pleasant. The third, a woman in her 80s (we guess) with a walker AND A CANE, was not so nice. She took to screaming and pointing at us from across the street, while waving her walking stick and pantomiming our torture techniques — a theatrical performance for all 500 people waiting to cross the busy street! Rudolfplatz, for those of you who know where that is.
The dogs in Rudolfplatz. They look like tortured souls don’t they?
Fortunately, we found an apartment with a yard where we can run the dogs — helping exercise the devil out of Kaya before working on actual training techniques. So we thought. Turns out, yards here are just to look at, not to use, but our landlord made an exception for us — well, unless anyone else in the building complained. Tuesday of last week, someone finally complained, after first insulting us by asking for the SECOND time if we even live in the building (Yes, we still live in the building.) We’d more or less given up on the back yard anyway because there were too many “tasty treats” in the bushes, but it was the principle of it that really pissed me off.
Luckily for us, we discovered a new way to exhaust Kaya. We started training the dogs last week to run next to us on the bikes. A perfect solution! A way for Kaya to run without running away. This is something people do all the time in Cologne.
BUT (of course, there’s a “but”), yesterday someone disapproved. Another elderly woman approached Jeff in the park and asked Kaya’s age. He told her 18 months. Old lady says, in German, “Oh, that’s too young. You need to walk her next to the bike.” Jeff explains that we’ve been working with her, that this is how we exercise her so we can then train her, etc., etc. (probably in broken Deutsch, but I didn’t actually hear it). This isn’t good enough. So she threatens to take a picture with her cell phone and send it to the “Polizei.”
The Polizei!??!? Now this is just getting ridiculous.
Jeff promptly pedaled away, lady still sputtering about God knows what.
I’d like to point one thing out — this is a country where people put their human children on bikes before they can even WALK.
Anyway, enough with my rant. I have more important things to do … like take down wanted posters featuring my husband’s stunned face.
Cheers!
*An editorial note — for all the people who bitch at us, there are probably 200,000 who don’t. And there are many Germans here we absolutely adore. But, this was something I had to share.
Language fail
It is time to enroll myself in full-time German school. I do dumb things when I’m flustered, particularly with money.
Today, I purchased what I thought was ONE rug from a nice Iranian man who runs a carpet shop on the top floor of this cheap-ass furniture store called Roller. The carpets range from fairly cheap to very expensive (into the several thousands). My language skills, however, have no range — they primarily linger in the piss-poor department.
This nice salesman, who has bothered to actually learn German, also spoke a little English (really, though, just a little. I actually had to break out the Google translate on my phone). But, enough to understand I wanted a carpet and enough to understand that I didn’t want to spend a ton of money. After making my first selection and signing the invoice, I told him I wanted to look at a couple others. He took my liking of one as a sign I wanted to buy a second carpet.
So, he taped it up and put it next to the one I’d already signed for — which I missed.
He added it to the invoice — which I also missed.
And I OK’d the transaction for about double what I should have paid — which, you guessed it, I also somehow missed.
Not until he called me “very strong” for telling him “I don’t need a cart, I’ll just carry it home,” did I realized I had purchased two.
Because I used the EC (electronic cash) card, I can’t get an immediate refund (don’t follow how that works and don’t have the language skills to really try to understand). So now I have a credit hand-marked on my receipt — “gutschrift” — and I’m hoping like hell he honors it when I come back.
I’ll bring Jeff this time. While his German ranges from fair to somewhat “gut”, he is way cooler under pressure.
(Note: last time I felt flustered after being yelled at by the grocery store cashier for not following the EC card process correctly, I just left my wallet at the register. Maybe I am subconsciously tipping people for their efforts in dealing with me and my “Ich spreche nicht Deutsche.”)
Kaya introducing squirrel to the new carpet. Since, she has also introduced monkey and bear and spent a considerable amount of time just sitting on it.
Diagnosis: Fat dog
I would like to interrupt the previously promised schedule of Italy-related travel posts with this brief announcement: Kaya is fat.
Yes, the same dog who just 9 months ago was emaciated, shit-covered, malnourished and partially bald now weighs 14.5 kilograms, up from 11.5 in early March (and has a beautiful coat).
The day began comically when we picked up the dogs from the farm, following our Italia holiday. Jeff and I both noticed immediately that Kaya appeared a little chunky. So we laughed and made fat jokes (Breezy did too) and then Jeff took her for a jog.
Then cue the farting. Constant gas, a lot of drinking, and loud noises from the tum-tum — some serious borborygmus (most certainly not born of hunger). Could the “fat” be bloat, a symptom of potentially serious, sometimes fatal disease, according to the canine version of WebMD?
Off to the vet we go. Onto the scale — we weren’t imagining the fat. Into the exam room, where Kaya promptly peed all over the floor. Fortunately, the probing vet discovered no stomach discomfort, just meaty ribs. Kaya did, however, have a slight fever. So, she could have a minor infection, likely of the bladder variety given the drinking and the accident. So with a small antibiotic injection and a squirt of stomach soother, we were off, with a loud and clear order from the doctor: cut back on the food (which is also the likely cause of the tooting).
To our credit as loving dog parents, the food is brand new. I guess we didn’t realize that with a $90 bag of gourmet/organic “kibble” — with ingredients that read like the menu of a five-star restaurant (steak, sweet potatoes, apples) — we don’t need to feed her 2 full cups a day. I also did not realize that one week on said diet could be so unfriendly to my once-slender puppy.
So now we begin experimenting with diet and portions. And I suppose I should do the same, following a week of pasta, cheese, wine, olive oil, bread and tiramisu.
That said, I will NOT be stepping on the scale today, or ever. In fact, we don’t even have one.
A European Adventure 