Hello to Berlin

Reading the history of a place you're visiting always does make it a bit more exciting and meaningful. Four years ago when I was headed to Berlin, I was reading 'The Fall of Berlin 1945'. The vivid descriptions of fighting in the last year made the visit to the Reichstag all the more impactful.

Now I'm reading 'Berlin Diary'. The journals of a radio correspondent stationed in Berlin beginning in 1934. It's about the run up to the war and the thick of it, before America entered into the fray.

Agh, the haunted-ness of Berlin. It was delightful to hear the stories of the Danish coming together to outwit the Nazis and save lives when I was in Copenhagen. It’s a horror reading about the slow fall into destruction of Germany. How stupid the people were at first to allow democracy to be done away with, and then how complacent they were to allow war to start again. One ray of niceness is that Berliners tended to be a bit smarter than the rest, having the highest number Communist party members (hence anti-Nazi), voting in the largest numbers against the Furhrer in elections, not wanting war, most listening (illegally) to the BBC, trying to hold on to their days of debauchery between the world wars. And of course, now the new Berlin, united in Democracy, holds that period of their history in shame and aims to create a new path. That's why the city is so exciting, alive, artsy.

Most disgusting is the use of propaganda. The outright lies of politicians. Is it so far off to call what Fox 'News' and the Republican party does the same? One is to uphold a dictator, the other is to promote a regime that makes them more money. The National politics of America really does disgust me hugely. How can one say that the rich can't afford to pay more taxes and the stimulus didn't work when most economists (at least the ones not paid by the Republicans) say otherwise? How can they say that global warming isn't caused by human activity when every scientist (and usually they themselves a few years ago) say otherwise? And even sillier things like Obama is a Muslim, or gay parents make their kids gay.

It's a bit more believable to think that the Germans swallowed everything Goebbels was selling when you think a good percentage of Americans are swallowing what Fox sells them, even when there are other sources available to negate them. (Factcheck.org anyone?)

In any case, I'm still excited to go. Would have rathered Barcelona, Lisbon, Rome, or anywhere else warmer, but somehow Berlin was by far the cheapest ticket on the menu, so away we go.

Time to brush up on my German . . . .

Back in Belgium

Yipes! Three months flew by fast, and here I am, in Belgium with Chris. Living in a sparse, artless room that's best used for meditation (because there's not much room for anything else). We've finally figured out how to angle the twin mattress and move it away from the floor so we can sleep somewhat comfortably.

We've settled into a sort of routine. I work most of the day at a nearby bar with free internet, sipping one beer very slowly. Chris is off to class, reading or writing. I nip out to walk down a street I've never been down before. Today it was the Groot Begijnhof - a 13th century monastic community of women. Another day it was the M Museum. Another we wandered through the Christmas Market and ate chocolate.

Overall it's a pretty sweet deal to get paid to be in a foreign country. (Thank you generous vacation package!) More travels soon . . .

Damn, Amsterdam!

Well, let's just say if you combine, bikes and water, you get my ideal city. This is perhaps one of the reasons I loved living in Miami so much. But I've found that even in colder weather, I enjoy the speed of a bike and the lapping of waves.

I've many pictures and more to elabotate on further, but for those of you reading at home, yes Amsterdam and Brussels are all that they're made out to be - and more.

In Brussels we partook in wonderful food and drink. We endulged in an amazing home-grown beer at every meal and at different 'Brown-Bars' every night. Every single one was spectacular. We toured a brewery that does not add yeast or sterilize it's equipment, but rather allows the yeast in the unique micro-fauna of the air to make their beer. The spiderwebs weren't for show - they were to catch the bugs flying about! We ate pralines and fabulous meals and walked through spendid old squares.

Amsterdam seemed to have more to say - the architecture is wonderful and all jives. With more canals than Venice, every other street is a view to more of their beautiful buildings. We've had good pancakes, and some beer. (The breweries here are colorful, but no where near as good as Belgium.) The highlight has been the easy-breasy riding of bikes around in well-marked lanes.

I always do remark that bike riding is the most efficient mode of transportation in Boston and here, the people have realized this en masse. I could spend days watching all the beautiful people on their beautiful bikes.

Or just being one of the beautiful people myself . . .

Yes, please!

What do you say when your mom offers to send you to Amsterdam to take care of your sister?

Yes, please!

Thank you Katie for being 'nervous' about traveling Europe by herself. Thank you mom for loving Katie so much to send me with. And thanks Dad for making the money to make it all happen!

So that's it now, I'm off to Brussels for 4 days and then 4 days in Amsterdam. I'm super proud of my ticket-deal skills. A bunch of surfing got me $600 tickets. (That's a bit more than it cost to fly to Hancock, MI for Thanksgiving.) And just as nice, my four hour lay-over is in Philly, where I'll meet my parents for lunch. Hopefully they'll let me pick up the bill.

My bag is packed (one carry-on), my guide books are bought (Encounter series from Lonely Planet), and my ipod is loaded up (lots of Rick Steves).

I've got a few must-dos on the schedule - Anne Frank House, Van Gough Museum, Belgian beer, chocolate, ice skating. What else should I add?

Well-read Weekend #2

It's another well-read weekend.  Of course there's something special about curling up in a blanket next to a fire when it's snowy outside, sipping a hot-chocolate and reading a good book.  There's something even better, though, about sunbathing on your private deck, the long-awaited spring sun warming you, reading a good book.  

So that is what I did today.  Now that the sun is once again out, the snow, come on Monday, was gone by Sunday, ao I had another chance to enjoy being outside.  I hopped the bus to "Rahsi," what the locals apparently call my new favorite hood, Roslindale.  I've become a regular at the cheese shop.  I did my grocery shopping at the Village Market and picked up a fresh loaf of bread at the bakery.  While I waited for the bus I finished my latest travel read:

A Year in the World: Journeys of a Passionate Traveler by Frances Mayer. (go ahead, pick it up on Amazon used for $.01)

Frances is the author of several books about travel, including Under the Tuscan Sun, which catapulted herself, and the rustic region in Italy to fame.  It must be strange to have a movie made of your memoir, with the leading character using the same name.  The fame has gone a bit to her head.

The book is a straightforward, poetic account of a year of her travels through Europe, Morocco and Turkey.  Her rich, vivid descriptions of the luxurious meals tantalize my tastebuds and her dramatic rendering of the landscapes and water surrounding far-away lands take my soul's eye there.  I skip her just as lengthy descriptions of English gardens, one of which is enough to give me a picture of what the dozen or so flowerbeds she visits might look like.

I sympathize with her drive to find the local, the authentic, the back-door experiences, that any traveler seeks out, but her fame and wealth taint the authenticity of the experiences.  How many of us can stay at a different British country-side cottage every other night, taxi around Greek Islands, go shopping for 3 Turkish rugs to ship home, or get comped into a Mediterranean cruise to lecture on travel?

It's not so much that it's wishful thinking, but rather, I'd rather skip the lofty tourist experiences.  Mayes looses most likability when, during her most stressful part of her journey, she misses all the taxis back to her cruise ship, being forced to walk 3 miles and take a bus back to the ship. 

Her passion wins you back over when she recalls lines from Greek Poet, Alexander Matsas as she stares out over the sea on the island of Crete or richly-details the cooking of food in Lisbon.

All in all, an enjoyable read for foodies, history and poetry enthusiasts, and gardeners.  Skip it if you're looking for adventure.