Krakow

After our one night in Warsaw we packed our bags one last time and headed to Krakow, for our last stop on Euro Trip 2008.

As a pre-note, after all of my travels and places visited, not just on this trip, but in my life, I have come to realize that my appreciation of a city is based on the following: the culture and people, food, the time it takes to get oriented, bars per capita, and shopping (not necessarily in that order). So when we showed up in Krakow, the city immediately shot to the top of my list of favorite places, alongside Istanbul, Amsterdam and Budapest.

Krakow’s old town and city center were a quick 10 minute walk from the train station and, after checking into our hotel, we followed a walking beer stein like the children of Pied Piper from our hotel to the main square, a block away. Once in the main square we were hit by the attractiveness of the town, cleanliness of the streets and number of bars in sight (one on every corner, as noted by our waiter in the first bar we found). It was also explained that Krakow is famous for its flowers, which apparently bloom throughout the city and make it that much more beautiful. Without the flowers, I was still in love.

Despite the amount of bars available (most which we visited during our two night stay), the initial draw for me to the city was the chance to visit Auschwitz, the largest of the WWII concentration camps, which has subsequently been turned into a museum, memorial and world heritage site. We visited this historic site on Tuesday and were blown away by the size and impact of it all, including the personal stories told by our tour guide of her family (both town residents and prisoners of the camp), the magnitude of the destruction as evidenced by the suitcases, shoes (40,000 pairs) and pots “left behind” by those prisoners and, more importantly, the element of humanity still maintained by the prisoners during the war (as told through the story of Maxamillion, a priest who gave up his life to save a fellow prisoner with a family). The tour walked us through the various barracks, over the infamous train tracks and into the first and only remaining crematorium.

Feeling heavy from the visit to Auschwitz, we managed to pull ourselves together for a final traditional Polish dinner, wine, shots of vodka, stories from the past two weeks and the only thing that helps when things are really down, karaoke. Seriously, there is nothing like Karaoke, especially in a foreign country, to put a smile back on your face.

Euro Trip 2008 came to a close the following day, with the departure of Neff to Prague and Joanna back to the US. And I, well I have determined that a pasta/wine diet does not work, nor does a meat/potato/vodka diet, and so detox it is for me.

Warsaw

One question, who in their right mind, goes to Poland in winter for a holiday? The answer, apparently, is three girls from California, who have no concept of the meaning of bone-chilling cold. In our defense, Joanna is Polish, she wanted to check out Poland while she was in Europe, and I figured it would be more fun to see the country with a “relative local” (a native born who speaks the language and still has family in Poland…no we did not meet them).

We landed in snow-covered Warsaw on Sunday and immediately realized the flaw in our thinking; it was instantly winter. Things started to look up once we got to our four-star hotel (booked at an extremely low rate either due to low prices in general, or due to the fact that November is surprisingly not peak travel time). From our hotel, we took a brisk walk through the city center up into old town, for a late lunch of traditional polish food (pierogi, barsch, and nalesniki). Lunch, surprisingly, happened to be incredible, and might have been my favorite meal of the entire trip. Despite being warmed by the food, it took a cab ride back to the hotel with the heat on full and a 2 minute sauna fully clothed (jacket, scarf, gloves, hat, everything) to get back to a normal body temperature.

After defrosting, we bundled back up again (this time layering on every piece of clothing I owned) and headed to dinner just down the street. Dinner, again, increased my appreciation of Polish food, and might have started an unhealthy addiction to beef tartar. Full from dinner, and flushed from the wine and plum liquor (which tasted more like Robutussin than anything) the walk back to the hotel was quick, but not painful.

Although we did not see much of Warsaw, (I still couldn’t name a single local site), I was already in love with the country. Despite the cold, how can you go wrong with a country that requires at least a few shots of high-end vodka before calling it a night!

Paris in 23 Hours

My friends had little expectations when they first arrived in Europe, however, at the top of their list was to see the Eifel Tower. So we went against all judgment and traveling common sense and booked a flight from Rome to Paris for one night of sites and French food. With a severe language barrier, a slight hang over from the night before (and possibly the entire week in Italy) and overall distrust of our taxi driver, it took some time finding our way to the hotel. Once settled, we were off again for a quick tour of Paris, a view of the Eifel tower, and a search for escargot and moules frites.

Similar to Rome, I had been to Paris before, and was therefore able to provide a walking tour of the city, with all of the highlights (Eifel Tower, Louvre – just the outside*, Notre Dame, wine bars, etc). *Note: this was my second trip to Paris and I have still managed to not see the inside of a single museum (unless the food court of the Louvre counts) nor buy a single piece of designer clothing and/or shoes. I am not sure if that is something to be ashamed of, or something to brag about.

Exhausted from all of the traveling (3 countries in less than a week), we had a relaxing dinner in the Latin Quarter and somehow pulled ourselves together for a few drinks down the street, followed by a late night crepe.

Having seen all we came to see, we took the early train back to Zurich for a night off in order to prepare for our flight to Poland on Sunday morning.

Rome – Back Again

Exactly one year and one month ago, I threw my last EUR 10 cent over my shoulder into the Fountain of Trevi, with the wish to return again some day. And while there are plenty of other wished I had hoped would come true first (early retirement, true love, world peace), I am glad that I had the chance to see Rome again (and this time with full funds available).

We arrived in Rome in time for dinner at Trattoria el Pallora, a great Italian restaurant near Campo di Fiori, and our hotel, where menus were not required. The four course meal was determined by what the owner/chef (a cute old Italian woman) decided to cook that day.

The following day was spent seeing all of the sites (and included actually entering some of the historic museums)! We began with the Vatican City in the morning, enjoying the Sistine Chapel, but finding St. Peter’s Basillica to be more astounding. We entered the historic Coliseum and witnessed ferocious beasts (as known as alley cats) in the labyrinth below the main floor. And we wrapped up the tour with yet another wish and a Euro tossed into the Fountain of Trevi. It was fun to back in the city and be able to navigate my way around without the use of a map, but with the knowledge of someone who had been there before. I felt like a relative local (relative, since I clearly wasn’t, but I was able to show my friends around and take them to all of the fun places I had discovered on my last trip in town).

With an early flight to Paris in the morning, we savored our last Italian dinner and enjoyed a few after dinner drinks at Abbey Tavern before heading to bed.

Montalcino

No eating and drinking tour of Italy is complete without a stop in the famed Tuscany Region. We decided on Montalcino, a quiet hill top village in Tuscany, Italy. According to Rick Steves (our travel companion and sole source for information) Montalcino is known, above all for its exquisite wine, Brunello, and a great place to experience Tuscany and the local wines. To get there, we had to take the train from Florence to Siena, and then a bus to Montalcino. Unfortunately, due to a bad connection, we had a two hour wait in Siena before our bus departed. Being resourceful and yet also lazy, Jo and I settled on buying a bottle of wine and crackers, and sat down on the curb in front of the bus to wait it out, while Neff went off exploring the town. Neff’s adventure lasted ten minutes before she came back to join us. And shortly thereafter, we were joined by an Aussie traveller, Callum, who was heading back to Florence, but had missed his train.

The bottle of wine quickly turned into 3, and the group to Montalcino had expanded to 4 (apparently the offer was too good to resist for Callum). The bus ride was quick and entertaining, thanks to the third bottle of wine, and before we knew it, we were told by a passenger (and confirmed by the driver) that we were at our stop. Without a hesitation, we grabbed our bags from under the bus and waved the bus good-bye. Apparently the bus driver was not as nice as we had thought, we had been dropped off in front of a power plant, in the middle of no where and 9km away from Montalcino.

Realizing the next bus was an hour wait, and after confirmation that there were no hotels or taxis nearby, we started hitchhiking…(sorry mom and dad, it was desperate. Desperate enough to break into our “in case of emergency” bottle of prosecco we had packed from Zurich). Thankfully we did not have to wait long before Jo flagged us down a ride, we piled into the car (with luggage on our laps since there was no space in the trunk) and we were back on track to Montalcino with help from our new friend Andrea.

After arriving in Montalcino and thinking the worst was over, we started walking towards our hotel (recommended by both Rick and a local, but for which we had not made reservations at). And again, we hit a snag, as the hotel, and all other hotels in town, appeared closed for the night, and possibly the season. Yet we were again saved by the owner of the local market/butcher, who did not speak English, but DID know someone who had space at their bed and breakfast. I swear the people in that region (excluding the bus driver of course) were some of the nicest people.

Surprisingly our emotions were still positive when we walked into the quaint bed and breakfast, and the attitudes remained high through dinner at the local restaurant (for which the B&B owner gave us a ride to and where we enjoyed a local cooked meal of polenta, wild boar and more wine.)

Despite all of the hiccups and opportunities to make the adventure a nightmare, I found myself completely in love with the town, region and wine. (It did help that the following day was absolutely beautiful and included breakfast purchased by Callum). Unfortunately, after less than 24 hours, we were back in Siena waiting for the train to Rome.

This region, and especially the wine, deserved at least another 2 days of our time, but I guess that is how things go when you travel.

Pisa and Florence

We left Cinque Terre, with fond memories, but the desire for a bigger city: Florence. Before we rolled into the city known as Firenze (a small fact we learned after we couldn’t find Florence on the train schedule) we made a quick stop in Pisa for pizza and the token photo in front of the leaning tower. Come to find out, while the building is lovely, it is really nothing more than the glorification of just bad architecture. I mean, no where else would people travel in order to see a building falling over…I can see that for free in San Francisco.

2 hours later, we were back on our way to Florence, with no expectations or plans other than to see Michaelangeo’s David. The thing about expectations though, is if you set them low enough, you will always be pleasantly surprised. We took a walk around the city after dinner that night and met a few local gentlemen (Mimmi, the lawyer, Glady, the scooter-rider and Flobi, the economist), willing to show us around.

First stop of was Friends Bar along the Arno River, followed by a view of the city from Piazzale Michelangelo, the site of David 2.0 (an outdoor replica of the original David). Afraid we weren’t going to be able to see the real David the following morning, we climbed the 190 stairs (did I mention that Neff likes to count stairs?) for the view and photos in front of the replica. We were in fact able to see the original the following day (again it helps to travel in November) however the replica was just as amazing, plus we were able to take photos with David 2.0.

Other highlights of Florence included: gelato at the locals favorite spot (over 40 flavors), a great vintage shop near our hotel, the various street vendors, and the impossible to navigate winding streets (we managed to get lost on our way to the hotel, to dinner, and back to the hotel after drinks and the tour of the city).

Cinque Terre - Dieci Bottiglie

Translated as Five Land- Ten Bottles

After the big night out in Zurich, and only 3 hours of sleep, we were somehow able to pull ourselves out of bed, get our life together, and make the 7 am train. Unfortunately for us, the train made it approximately 20 minutes out of Zurich before breaking down in a tunnel. More unfortunate, however, was our seat mate who had to enjoy our stench of stale cigarettes, fondue cheese, alcohol and dancing sweat (like the classy ladies we were, we forgo showers that morning in order to make the train). After an hour and a half, waiting for another train, we were back on the rail to Italy. (Did I mention that there was a 9am train we could have taken instead?)

We finally arrived in Vernazza, Italy, the fourth town in Cinque Terre (five small cities along the coast of Italy) in time for dinner. Even in the dark, we noticed and felt the charm of the small fishing village. We ate dinner at Giannis, the restaurant of the hotel we were staying, which rooms boasted ocean views (absolutely stunning) and warned of “some” stairs (130 steps to be exact). Over dinner we polished off the first of many bottles of wine.

We awoke the next morning to a sunny day and everything we had hoped for: a quaint fishing village with rustic charm and few tourists…although it did help that it was November. After a quick American breakfast at the Blue Marlin, we headed south to Riomaggiore to begin the hike through the five villages. And although we only did 2 of the four sections (1 section was closed and we were too hungry to complete the last), we were still able to see all five towns, with a quick glass of wine between towns Riomaggiore and Manarola, gelato in Vernazza (the most hard earned and enjoyed gelato of my life) and snacks and more wine at the end in Monterosso.

After our hike, we headed back to home to get ready for dinner. To none of our surprise, dinner was again fantastic with pesto and foccacia bread (the two local specialties) fried calamari, walnut raviolis and steak. But more important than the food (and dare I say wine), the conversations between the three of us made the meal memorable. I was having dinner with two of my best friends, in Italy, having the type of conversations that you can only have on holiday with good friends.

10 years of friendship, five towns, two nights and ten bottles of wine, we were off to a great start…next stop Pisa for lunch and Florence for dinner.

Euro Trip 2008 - Zurich

November 13th marked the beginning of Euro Trip 2008, with the arrival of my two girlfriends from college, Joanna (aka “Jo”) and Lisa (aka “Neff”). We had two weeks ahead of us, with only a general idea as to what we were going to do: Cinque Terre, Rome, Paris, and Poland, with a few nights in Zurich to start.

To overcome their jet lag, I took the girls directly to the Zurich Wine Boats, a two-week long event with 12 ferries harbored in the city port and wine tasting from over 200 wineries throughout Europe. The wine, followed by a final round of drinks at the Outback and a late night stop at McDonalds’s ensured them a full night’s sleep.

The following day was spent showing the girls around town, including the standard 3 hour tour of Zurich, bratwurst at Sternen Grill, Kebabs at Imbiss, and of course, fondue dinner. Now, I have always been told that the only way to eat fondue is with shots of Kirsch (a cherry liquor). However, given that I really don’t like kirsch, and the idea of mixing it with a block of cheese sounded even more disgusting then the actual amount of cheese consumed, I was hesitant (almost reluctant) to try. But somehow (maybe it was after the first round was bought by Anna who had dropped her bread in the fondue after saying each dropped piece of bread meant a round of shots) it seemed the appropriate time to give it a shot, literally. And after 5 pieces of bread were lost in the cheese, followed by 5 rounds of shots, I suddenly became a believer in the concept.

To prove the power of Kirsch, I normally have nothing in mind after a night of fondue but elastic-waist pants and my couch. However, that night we were able to go out dancing until 2am with more rounds of drinks and numerous song requests, all the while sweating out the smell of cheese and kirsch. In my eyes, Jo and Neff got the perfect “Swiss” experience.

Election Day

As far back as I can remember, I have always I wanted to be the first woman president of the United States. It was something I aspired to be, in hopes of making a difference in the world. But then college happened, and well, my political aspirations dried up quickly with two little words, political liability. To sum things up, I went to State school, which means my friends, unlike those bred in the Ivy league, those taught to keep secrets, would sing like a canary for a free six-pack of Coors Light. I am not perfect, there may or may not be some incriminating photos of me out there somewhere.

Despite my shattered dreams, and skepticism of politics in general, I got caught up in the emotions of being American and the glory that democracy permits…the Elections. With my absentee ballot submitted, I decided to host an Election Day get together, a chance for friends to get together, discuss politics and watch CNN, before any polls closed (with the time difference, the first polls did not close until 12am). When asked why I was having the party before the results were announced, I responded, the day before elections, everyone can celebrate, the day after, the likelihood would be that only about half of us would want to (yes, I am friends with Republicans, Democrats and Independents alike).

And like all good parties, I was excited! It was like being 6 years old on Christmas Eve…It had 2 years worth of anticipation, endless publicity and old men in suits not only asking me what I really wanted, but promising to deliver. But similar to Christmas, or anything with so many expectations and build up, the results were bound to disappoint. Not to say, that the outcome of the race was a let down, but rather, there were no fireworks, life changing moments, or epiphany. I got my new shiny toy on Christmas morning and like clock work, by Christmas dinner with the grandparents I had already grown tired of it.

So, while the rest of the world celebrates or mourns, I am looking forward to the next holiday and all that it promises.

My World Heritage Site

For as long back as I can remember, I have always known that I am a Grade-A European-Mutt. Meaning my heritage is a hodge-podge of almost every European nationality (except Italian, which, incidentally, is one of the cultures I relate to most, and which my dad thought he was growing up). Based on my mom’s genealogy research, there were a few stand-outs…I can guarantee that I have ancestors from Germany, Ireland, the Azores (the small island chain off of Portugal) and Alsace-Lorraine (the small wine region between Germany and France). Last weekend, I completed my world heritage tour, with a trip to the Alsace region. (I visited the Azores with the family in 2002, Ireland in 2004 and again in 2007, and of course, have frequented Germany on numerous occasions).

Known for its white wines (primarily Riesling or Gewürztraminer), gastronomy, cute towns and Christmas Markets, it seemed like a perfect weekend get away. Calling on my favorite partner in crime Erin, we met up Saturday morning in Colmar for a weekend of enjoying the local specialties: eating and drinking in the cute villages…it was still too early to enjoy the Christmas Markets.

Considering our luck with traveling, and all of the problems we typically encounter (missed flights, no guidebooks, etc) I considered the weekend a HUGE success. We were able to locate our hotel without an issue or map, we accidentally timed the bus to Riquewihr (a cute village with more wineries than tourists) perfectly with 10 minutes to spare, we remained composed and in control during wine tasting all day (although it was white wine, which is not our favorite), we managed to catch an unexpected bus back to Colmar in time for a mid-day nap and the day of eating and drinking was wrapped up with an amazing 3-hour dinner of local cuisines such as the bakeaoffa (as spelled on the menu), the Alsace version of a meat and potato pot pie.

We wrapped up the weekend of local indulgences with, surprise, a big brunch, more wine tasting in Colmar, followed by more wine and food at the train station. And if the weekend was not enough, the smell of dinner that was left on my sweater lingered until I got back to Zurich that evening.