TravelStream™ news feed for member the_stamms on TravelPod's free travel blogs service http://www.travelpod.com/syndication/rss/the_stamms en-us Copyright ©2009 TravelPod.com Sat, 14 Nov 2009 01:49:40 -0500 http://www.travelpod.com http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/5/1251065146/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/5/1251065146/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/5/1251065146/tpod.html Sat, 14 Nov 2009 01:49:40 -0500 Driving to Vegas, Baby. Vegas.

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Las Vegas, Nevada, United States

He Said These Are the Highlights:

1 - Tao: After three days in the desert without changing clothes, we were in Vegas. Within a few hours of arriving in Vegas, we had VIP table service overlooking the single greatest nightclub I have ever seen in my life, and I'm usually the dive-bar guy.

2 - Ditch Fridays: It was about a million degrees out. We had a cabana with a mist machine by the most popular pool scene in Vegas. We had a bar tab. Do I really need to say anything else?

3 - Spearmint Rhino: The opposite of reality. Countless hot women coming up to YOU, trying to get YOU to go dance with THEM (which comes with a price tag, of course). You know what? It doesn't cost anything if you don't go with them, and they still put in the time and effort. Plus, you don't leave with blue balls.

4 - The Sports Book: It would have been great. Around 20 guys contributing dough for a four game parlay, two of which had already come in. Halfway through the other two games, it's looking good. Real good. There was talk of taking the $2500 we were going to win and throwing it all on black to double up, to go out with a bang. But then it happens. The Broncos start sucking. Sucking bad. At least we got a few free beers out of the deal.

5 - Ghost Bar: Probably the coolest setting for a bar I have ever been.

6 - Blackjack Table: I really learned how to play this time, and left with the house's money.

7 - Flight Home: Tired. So tired. But the plane was so damn bumpy on take off, the guy next to me was yelling words of encouragement at the pilot. The pilot was behind a bulletproof door. We were sitting in seats 23 A and B. The guy's panic attack might have been justified, though. That was the first time in my life I thought there's a chance I could die on a plane. I got home safely, of course.

]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/5/1250805936/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/5/1250805936/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/5/1250805936/tpod.html Sat, 14 Nov 2009 01:11:21 -0500 Driving to Vegas, Baby. Vegas.

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Bryce Canyon National Park, Utah, United States

He Said These Are the Highlights:

- We woke up and spending a few hours checking out the Islands in the Sky section of Canyonlands National Park, we got back on the road and drove west.

- We stopped for a snack and sat under the shade of the cottonwood trees as a Capitol Reef National Park ranger told us about some indian paintings on the wall and how a troop of Boy Scouts had defaced a series of similar paintings nearby. Do they give badges for that?

- I listened to some serious bluegrass as I drove us up Utah's Grand Staircase and Boulder Mountain while everyone else slept. When they woke up we stopped at a gas station, drank Red Bull knock offs, and questioned the attendants about the nearby polygamist population. "Oh there's some Polygs that live around these parts," she said. "One came in last month with two of his wives, and he was a mean son of a bitch." At least we now know the lingo.

- After setting up camp in Bryce, we walked to the canyon's edge to find a thick haze from nearby forest fires. The heavy smoke made for some interesting colors and photos.

- After campfire-made fajitas and microbrews, we contributed to the haze and walked back to the canyon at night. I still have no idea how we didn't fall over the ledge, much less make it back to the campsite. The goddamn canyon was talking to me.

- A morning of omelets, a hike through the highlights of Bryce Canyon under a smoke-free sky that was as blue as I've ever seen, polarization, and off to holy mount Zion.

- Chilling in the Zion National Park's Virgin River and not finding any.

- Finally arriving in Vegas, baby, Vegas, and not finding any there, either.

]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/5/1250719521/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/5/1250719521/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/5/1250719521/tpod.html Fri, 13 Nov 2009 00:38:02 -0500 Driving to Vegas, Baby. Vegas.

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Moab, Utah, United States

He Said These Are the Highlights:

- Crossing the Continental Divide listening to Geller's obscure music.

- Eating lunch in downtown Grand Junction, convincing our waitress that we are making a documentary on Polygamy. Did she know any? No, but there are some around if you look, she said.

- Learning from Geller that if you look at a car's gas gage, the arrow tells you what side the gas tank is on. I had no idea. Did anyone? Why was this vital bit of information hidden from me for so long, and how did Geller obtain it? I think these are all rhetorical questions.

- Making a left off of I-70, setting up camp at Dead Horse Point State Park, driving into Arches National Park, hiking up to Delicate Arch for its infamous sunset, and right as the sun was setting and the assembled crowd from around the world muted itself in awe, watching and listening as Geller's water bottle rolled and scratched its way about a quarter of a mile down the slope toward the base of the arch and past it into the abyss, never again to be seen by human eyes.

- Drinking microbrews with dinner in downtown Moab, talking with our waitress (whom very well could have been Mormon) about where all the Mormons are, and then almost getting in a fight with this other girl who was completely obliterated. I think she thought Captain was Jesus, and she had always wanted to fight the son of God.

- Getting back to camp, cracking a few cold Milk Stouts, smoking some Boulder green, and zoning out to a sky full of stars because there wasn't any moon to detract as a light source. It was the first time I'd seen the Milky Way from horizon to horizon.

]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/5/1250633100/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/5/1250633100/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/5/1250633100/tpod.html Fri, 13 Nov 2009 00:31:02 -0500 Driving to Vegas, Baby. Vegas.

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Boulder, Colorado, United States

He Said These Are The Highlights:

- We picked up the car. It was a red Mercury with Texas plates.

- We packed the car with Colorado microbrews and other things.

- We left for Moab in the morning.


]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1256275494/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1256275494/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1256275494/tpod.html Tue, 10 Nov 2009 00:31:40 -0500 Eurochalli II: The Stamms Do Oktoberfest

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Munich, Bavaria, Germany

She Said:

Ok, I blew it.

I mean, who goes to a beer festival gluten free anyway????? I decided that I was going to take the risk. And it was worth it because that is some damn good Oktoberfest beer!

We arrived and hit the ground running. I already knew from past experience what the next four days would entail, and despite my initial protest that we were going to try things differently and maybe add in some Bavarian culture days, it all went the same as it did last time, drinking, eating, and festival-ing for 4 days straight! We were there with family and good friends; add in good food, festive people, and great beer, what could be bad?

Tracy (our good friend from New York who also met us in Paris on our last trip) became part of the Challi duo and, as always, was a ton of fun. She not only kept up, but had me running after her more than once! The Dunsizers (very close friends of the the Stamms from Florida) and the Stamms also held their own and added another fun dynamic to an already wonderful festival. We drank beer, had philosophical talks, ate brats with kraut and warm Bavarian pretzels, and danced to German band music (and some Mama Mia, John Denver, and Dirty Dancing- those Germans really like American music!). We stayed at Wombats once again, and like last time, I was thrilled with the cleanliness. The only difference this time was that I was feeling a bit old with all the young backpackers!

We got as much "tent time" (as Chad liked to call it) as we could, especially given that Reunification Day was on a Saturday and the Wiesn was ridiculously crowded. But since the weather was so great this year, sitting outside in the beer gardens was almost as good as being in the tents, only we couldn't hear the band well.

One of the best parts of Oktoberfest is sitting with local people and talking. While we met tons of great people, on the day we went to Hacker-Pschorr, we met the most adorable Bavarian teenagers. They had just finished high school and were off to university in the following weeks. They were genuinely interested in and took plenty of time explaining details of their music, culture, food, etc. It was nice to see their pride, especially at their age!

On the last night of the festival, after hearing all the songs from the past and identifying the 2009 songs of the festival, we enjoyed the ceremonial finale with sparklers and an all-out tribute to the wait staff to bring the festival to a close.

Pam Said:

Eins, zwei, zupfa! (Drink) Our friends from St. Pete joined us in Munich, Mike and Madeline Dunsizer. Along with Tracy, keeping track of seven people at Oktoberfest got somewhat difficult. We did a pretty good job even with the German holiday on the third. We had never seen so many people in our lives in one place. Once they get capacity in the tents, they close the doors. Then the outdoor gardens fill up and you are totally out of luck. See, if you do not have a seat, you do not get a beer. Verboton! Reason being—get there early; and yes, you can spend all day and evening in a beer tent. The bands are fabulous and everyone stands on the benches and dances. Verboton to stand on the tables! There is really no way to really describe the experience of Oktoberfest with meeting people from all over the world, combining all the different cultures, and everyone enjoying each other’s company.

Glenn’s Observations:

- Boy they sure dress funny over here – what’s up with the leather shorts these guys wear?

- How did I get to be three times older than everyone in the Hostel (except for Challi)

- Everyone in Germany knows the words to John Denver’s Country Roads, and they sing it standing up on their Oktoberfest benches.

- Did I mention the beer?!

Tracy Said:

When I arrived in Munich and Chad was like a small child pulling on his mother's pant leg begging to go to the 'Wiesn! Wiesn!' (Oktoberfest grounds), Alli stated, 'There is no way I am spending every single day drinking, I just can't do it'. Well, famous last words because that's exactly what we did!

As Chad said many times, it is the most beautiful party in the world, and I couldn't agree more. When you tell people you are going to Oktoberfest, people think that you are just going to get wasted. While that is incidentally true, it is by far not the intention of this party. If you could close your eyes and imagine some sort of paradise, that is what Oktoberfest is. Imagine congregating people from all over the world, who are in a great mood, welcoming and excited to meet new people, add some beer, no stress, and you have the most fun you could ever imagine.

Somehow you find a way to communicate and get to know the people you are sitting and drinking with, even though you don't share even one word of a common language, and you become great friends. You sing, you dance, you eat, and you are in bed by midnight, only to wake up to do it again the next day. People are all ages and nationalities, it's beautiful! Huge props to Chad's parents and friends who kept up with us and sang, danced, and stumbled right along with us.

It is at this time that I give a HUGE thank you to having the best damn Jewish mother ever, aka Alli, who made sure I got to bed every night, who didn't let me wander off with random cute boys (okay so I wandered, but she always made sure I came back), who wasn't shy about reprimanding me when I was on the verge of misbehaving, and who filled in all the blanks for me in the morning. When my hotel reservation was cancelled, Alli and Chad made sure I had a bed to sleep in, even if it was their own. Ladies and gentleman, Oktoberfest is where good friends go to celebrate their friendship and show their true colours. Chad was the most enthusiastic and passionate drinking partner one could ask for. It was the best few days to enjoy my awesome friendship with Alli and Chad, it was cute boy heaven, it was beer drinkers paradise, and I came home to a facebook page full of new friends and funny pictures. Coming home from vacation is always hard, but this one was particularly hard as it really doesn't get much better than this. When Chad told me my $1300 plane ticket was worth it for even one day there, let alone four days, I didn't believe it could be true. I would do it again in a heartbeat! Two days travel + four days at the Wiesn + 16 litres of beer = what happens at Oktoberfest, stays at Oktoberfest! I am so lucky to have such great friends and I really can't wait til we do it again.

He Said:

Day 1 – After meeting up with Mike and Madeline at their hotel around the corner, we headed up Goethestrasse – go ahead, pronounce it – toward the Wiesn. Just like the last time, the anticipation built with each step. Alli and I found ourselves to be just as excited for round two at the world’s greatest party as we were the first time, and when we reached the festival grounds, we were raring to go.

First stop: the Augustiner tent, and this is maybe the one single reaction I had hoped to see over the entire trip. My dad rarely curses, but when we walked into the Augustiner fest hall, we all got a 'holy shit.’ There’s really not much else to say. We failed to make it to Augustiner the last time, and according to most, this fest hall tends to be one of the friendliest, is filled with the most locals, and also is legendary for having the best beer. My god it was good. Augustiner is the only Oktoberfest beer still brewed in wooden kegs, which are literally rolled out and tapped. It’s also the only Oktoberfest beer not exported, making its consumption inside the massive fest hall a pilgrimage. Within fifteen minutes of reaching the Wiesn, my main beer-tent goals had been achieved, not to mention the facts that we met a Kurt Tatman (my cousin) look-alike, and Alli bailed on her gluten free diet in favor of the heavenly Augustiner. She even took her pills with a liter of it, and we all drank with first-day vigor that often leads to second-day headaches…

We moved along when our table became reserved and wound up outside under the quintessential Bavarian sky of light blue and wisps of white clouds forming the diamonds. The weather was so nice we decided to sit outside in the Paulaner beer garden, and we all enjoyed a few more liters and some, well, let’s say ‘interesting’ conversation. Before we knew it, we were all feeling pretty good, and the sky was quickly turning to night. We stumbled and laughed our way back to our hotels – a walk that is always much needed after a day at the Wiesn – and when we got back, we found Tracy. After fixing up the sleeping arrangements and dropping off the old folks, Alli, Tracy, and I were ready to go back out. A little bar around the corner? No. There wasn’t a chance in hell we weren’t going back to the Wiesn, and we did. In fact, we sat outside the Hacker-Pschorr tent, hung out with some locals, and closed the place down.

Back at the hostel, we hung out until the wee hours of the morning with the Italians next door, drinking beers we bought out of the vending machine downstairs. We took turns playing songs on respective iPods – they love Sinatra – and after we got rid of Alli’s headache, it was time to call it a night.

Day 2 – Since the old folks were well-rested, they took off for some sightseeing in Munich while the three of us had a lazy morning and a traditional, German lunch up the street. Afterwards, we rested a little more. The Oktoberfest headaches were really pounding. I forgot how splitting and dehydrating they can be, but after we met up with the older folks again, we all rallied and headed back to the Wiesn.

We sat outside the Lowenbrau tent and wound up talking about healthcare policy with a bunch of Aussies, we communicated through sign language and a few common words with some Slovakian soccer players, and then we tried to get in the tent. The doors had been shut for a while, but after putting in just a little time at the nearest entrance, everyone but Mike, Madeline, and I made it in before they stopped allowing people in. The Dunsizers decided to head back to the hotel, and I tried other doors until I saw Alli racing up from the inside with a couple of Indian guys. They directed me to another door, where one of them talked the security guard into letting me in. Once inside, we drank in the aisles with our new Indian friends from Munich, who were so kind to help a little American girl get her husband in the fest hall. The tent was hopping, one we remembered from our last night at the fest in ’06. And we heard some classic songs, including a few by the Beatles.

Day 3 – When we woke up in the morning, Alli, Tracy, and I had a little more motivation to get our asses in gear and get to the Wiesn. It was Saturday, the weather was absolutely spectacular and warm, it was German reunification day (equivalent to their 4th of July), and the local soccer team, Bayern Munich, had a big game across town. The older folks were going on an excursion to the Bavarian Alps to see the Neuschwanstein castle, so we took off for the Wiesn without them.

We got there shortly after noon, usually plenty of time to at least get inside a tent if not find a seat, but we couldn’t find even one tent with its doors still open. In fact, we couldn’t even find an open beer garden!!! We marched up and down the main drag for well over an hour and were just about to give up and head into downtown Munich when I decided to check the Lowenbrau beer garden again, being that it is one of the largest. We stood in one spot for a few minutes when Alli and Tracy befriended a French Drinking Team from Strasbourg. Because they were seated, we bought our beers through them, and eventually after a few of them left, we sat down.

Over the next several hours we drank with the Frenchmen, a group from Taiwan, another group from who-knows-where including a few who couldn’t lift their heads from the table, a Russian girl who liked stuffed animal wombats and making Batman faces, a group from Cologne who were very kind and informative, and finally, a couple of cousins, one from Switzerland and the other from Australia. Once it got dark, we were antsy to at least try to get inside.

We bounced from door to door of the Lowenbrau tent, Alli and Tracy both trying their pouty faces while I stood behind. After being denied time and time again, we decided to give a last ditch effort at the farthest, emptiest door, where we stood for about ten minutes. Inside, the guard was talking to a group of girls all dressed in traditional dirndls who appeared to be pleading with him, and when he slung the door open to let them out, one said “enjoy” to me as she walked by. Immediately the guard ushered us in. It all happened so quickly, and the three of us stood there kind of shocked. For some reason, the girls had lobbied on our behalf, and it worked.

Within fifteen minutes we had beers, and within another ten after that we were standing on the benches inside the Lowenbrau tent while Bavarian high school boys flirted with Tracy. The music? Viva Colonia, what seemed like almost the entire soundtracks of Mama Mia and Dirty Dancing but we were at Oktoberfest so I didn’t give a damn and even half-way enjoyed it, na na na nananana Hey Jude, and finally, the perfect song to hear when wearing any Florida Gators National Championship shirt, We Are the Champions my friend, and the three of us, in the midst of what many locals said was the most crowded day they had ever seen at the Wiesn, had fought for our precious tent time until the end.

Day 4 – After the crowds of day three had really put the fear of god in us for getting seats for the last day of the festival, we rounded up the entire group to head to the Wiesn early. Pam and Madeline bought dirndls along the way, and we got to the grounds in good order to find significantly reduced crowds despite the weather being just as beautiful as the day before. All the doors were open at all the tents, and Tracy was amazed at how easy it was to just walk right in.

We tried the Schottenhamel, the festival’s largest tent seating over 10,000, but couldn’t find any seats. Many people had gone early to save them for their late-arriving friends. So we went next door to the Hacker Festzelt, often referred to as the “Heaven of Bavarians,” and we found enough seats for all of us in what is probably my favorite decorated tent. The catch? The seats were at two different tables, and they were reserved at 5 meaning we would have to get up.

After running out real quick to get festival hearts for Alli and Tracy – my two wives for the weekend – I sat down with them at the table. We joined a few kids who had just graduated from high school in Munich, along with their beer-drinking stuffed animal. These kids could not have been any nicer, and as we’ve discovered, it is often the 18 to 22 range that love to share information about their culture, so they were a plethora of information. We learned which mustards to use with different types of wursts, we found out about the two songs that were hits of the ’09 Oktoberfest, and we got a hand-written translation of the German soccer chant that I’d been singing for the previous three days without actually knowing the words. My favorite encounter with these three friends, though, was when I told them about my Bavarian roots. They told me there was a phrase that Bavarians often ask people to say to prove they’re Bavarian. If you can pronounce it, you pass. Me? I passed with flying colors to their astonishment. The beer-spilling northern German kids that joined us later? Not only could they not pronounce it, they didn’t even know what the hell it meant, and our Munich friends were glad to see them finally leave after one kid spilled too much beer. Alli’s favorite part of the incident was the phrase’s translation, something to the effect of ‘furry and fluffy squirrels like to climb trees’ or something.

Shortly before we were made to leave our table for the reservation, we witnessed a fight break out nearby. It was the only one we had seen amongst the tens of thousands of beer-drinking people over the course of four days (make your own judgments about how many you might see if the same event was held in say, the United States). Despite the over-aggressive nature of the guards, the fight was literally over within seven seconds, and all parties were escorted out the doors, which by this point were shut to capacity. A minute later everything was back to normal, and by normal I mean a fact I pointed out to my dad earlier. “Look around,” I said. “Just look at how many smiles you see on the faces around us.” Genuine joy.

We relocated to another nearby table, which was an amazing find despite the fact it was kind of tucked away in a corridor away from the main area. We took turns walking around the fest hall, though, and wound up parked at that table for the remainder of Oktoberfest. We drank with new friends at adjoining tables, we drank with new friends at tables across the tent, and we even drank with our waitress’s husband who had joined our table. We heard Viva Colonia again, we heard Country Roads, we heard Furstenfeld, we heard more John Denver, and we he heard the two Wiesn hits that have something to do with swim, swim, swimming and partying all night long. The last few hours of the festival just seemed to rush forward as we met and sang and danced in the aisles with each other and everyone we met. Eventually the lights went out, sparklers were lit, and the whole place sang a kind of ballad to end Oktoberfest ’09. Any takers for next year?

And for your enjoyment, here are two Youtube clips from this year's Oktoberfest songs of the year, otherwise known as Wiesn Hits. Both were taken in the Hacker-Pschorr tent where we spent our last day at the fest.

The song about partying all night-
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HVlyvhxipyc&feature=related

The song about swimming, lifting, etc-
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e5Xivq4eoFQ&feature=related
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1257826980/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1257826980/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1257826980/tpod.html Mon, 09 Nov 2009 23:59:27 -0500 Eurochalli II: The Stamms Do Oktoberfest

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Frankfurt, Hesse, Germany

They Said:

We arrived in Frankfurt to some more wet weather, and we headed to a hotel a few blocks away that we had seen online. It was in the middle of the red light district, but it was suitable and close to the train station. After we checked in, we found a phone to call Nadine and Flo. Nadine is a cousin of Chad's brother-in-law, and Flo is her boyfriend.

They met us at the train station in two separate cars and drove us back to their hometown of Sulzbach, which was about twenty minutes outside of Frankfurt. We had a great dinner of warm, German soups and Jagerschnitzel at a local restaurant called Die Linde, and when you have dinner in the state of Hesse in early October, that means one thing – Apfelwein. Apple wine is a local specialty. It is served pure and cut with either sparkling water or Sprite, and the apfelwein we drank at Die Linde was actually made by a family friend of Nadine. Now we can’t wait to go back and spend more time in Sulzbach so we can tour the orchard!

We had a great dinner with great company, we reminisced about their trips to Florida and the Gators-Vols game, we learned more about the 2009 Oktoberfest songs and found out the Nadine was to perform one of them at the local festival later in the month, and then we drove back to their apartment to see all of the American sports paraphernalia hanging on their walls, not to mention some German candies.

Unfortunately it was time to call it a trip, so we all piled in the car and Flo kindly drove us home on the ultra-efficient Autobahn where nobody drives slowly in the left lane.

Auf wiedersehen! It was a great trip!

Pam and Glenn said:

Pam’s first observation of her old high school alma mater town of Frankfurt was that it had not changed much. From the Bahnhoff down Kaiserstrasse, the hookers seemed to still be waiting for the American GI’s. It was raining and dreary, but soon to change when Erik’s cousin, Nadine, and boyfriend, Flo, picked us up to take us to their home town outside the big city near the Tanus Mountains. We had a wonderful visit, them taking us to a traditional German restaurant where we tasted fresh apple wine. We topped it off with a visit to their apartment. What a great way to end the trip!
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1257822132/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1257822132/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1257822132/tpod.html Mon, 09 Nov 2009 22:57:50 -0500 Eurochalli II: The Stamms Do Oktoberfest

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Nuremberg, Bavaria, Germany

They Said:

Even if for only one damp and chilly night, we finally got to see another city in Bavaria. Nuremberg is mostly a bombed out shell of its former self, redone since the war with more modern style architecture but still retaining the city's original mapping. This means tons of streets that are pedestrian only, and for the most part, this is how we enjoyed the city – simply by walking its walker-friendly streets.

When most people think of Nuremberg, they think of the trials. Unfortunately we were unable to visit Courtroom 600 because the trial memorial isn’t going to be finished until 2010, but also because the room is still used for proceedings to this day. Instead, on our first day, we walked through the town’s squares, saw a religious demonstration and debate that was even more entertaining because we didn’t understand a word of it, we ate the local gingerbread delicacies, we shopped at the markets, we warmed up from the rain and had a cup of coffee, and eventually had dinner in a quaint, very authentic restaurant where he had traditional Franconian food and some of the local Tucher beer.

The next morning we had a nice breakfast at the hotel and headed out for our last day of touring. We walked down the Weissgepbergasse (with the oldest remaining buildings in the city), we passed the former home of painter Albrecht Durer, we drank some Mokarabia, climbed the castle, found a traditional Bavarian coat for Pam, and then, since Germany is full of Turkish immigrants, I finally had some Turkish street food. After shooting off an email to some extended family in Frankfurt with some initial plans to meet up, we headed for the high-speed ICE train of the Deutsche Bahn that would get us to Frankfurt in no time at all.

Pam and Glenn Said:

We both enjoyed this medieval town dating back to 1071. We walked the old town within the walls and saw vistas of the town from the old castle. We enjoyed great espresso, one of Chad’s favorites at a little café. We now get to ride the DB train to Frankfurt.
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1255581576/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1255581576/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1255581576/tpod.html Fri, 23 Oct 2009 01:24:27 -0400 Eurochalli II: The Stamms Do Oktoberfest

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Strasbourg, Alsace, France

He Said:

Well, since I was the one who wasn't too sure about spending the night in Strasbourg, I’m pretty much the asshole here. I had a few reasons: 1) The ride from Reims to Munich was set to be a long one, so I thought it might be a good idea to get even closer than Strasbourg, 2) I was really curious to check out a new city in Germany such as Ulm, and 3) I was under the impression that Strasbourg was predominately an industrial-type town that had sustained a lot of damage during the war. Sometimes traveling is all about last minute decisions that turn out to be can’t-miss surprises, and that’s exactly what Strasbourg became.

Though there aren’t many first class sights in Strasbourg – unless you count the Kronenbourg Brewery that can only be seen with reservations we didn’t have and the EU Parliament which is really just a bunch of politicians – the ambience of the town is a site in itself. We walked from our hotel near the train station and crossed a bridge over a branch of L’Ill River, which surrounds the historical center of Strasbourg. We checked out some stained glass in St. Pierre’s, we went into a Virgin Records (an interesting experience in another country), we walked through Place Kleber, and we eventually found our way to Place Gutenberg. Gutenberg moved to and lived in Strasbourg when he invented the printing press around 1440, and this invention led to the Gutenberg Bible, which is one of the first books ever printed.

The famous cathedral in Strasbourg is massive and impressive for its size alone. Add in the fact that it survived so many wars, and its pinkish façade seems even more impressive. We walked around inside and out and saw the enormous astronomical clock that was built in the 1500s while chomping on some gourmet candy we bought at a nearby shop.

Strasbourg, like other towns in Alsace, has a distinct, half-timber-style architecture that is very German looking – not surprising since this part of France has so often switched back and forth between the French and the Germans. It makes for some very scenic pedestrian lanes, cafés, and winstubs that I couldn’t stop taking photos of. We eventually found one we liked near the idyllic Petite France section of town, and we had a great Alsatian meal – me with a classic tarte flambee (Alsatian pizza-like dish) and the local brew, Kronenbourg.

We concluded our pleasant, one-night sojourn in Strasbourg by watching the Marseilles-Real Madrid game in the hotel, and we finally found out the correct pronunciation of the region’s famous wine – Gewürztraminer. The 'w’ is pronounced as a ‘v’, and the ‘er’ is said with an accent making it sound like ‘air’. This question had bothered me since the last time we were in Alsace.

Au revoir, France. A bien tot.

She Said:

Deciding where to go on a whim for a day that isn’t already scheduled into the itinerary used to be our most fun task. But we quickly discovered that with time restraints, money considerations, and more than just two of us to consider, it’s not that easy. After looking up train options, researching towns and hotels, and too much deliberation (mostly between Challi), we decided on Strasbourg.

Although Chad reported it an "industrial city", it turned out to be quite the opposite, with charming (yes, I said charming) half-timbered architecture, great food, and canals running throughout the town. The cathedral, (because there is one in every city and you’ve got to see each one!), although awesome with rose windows and a spectacular astronomical clock, was not the best I’ve seen. You know I’ve seen too many cathedrals if I’ve become picky! We walked though what they call “Petit France” and had a traditional, delicious Alsatian dinner. Even though I remembered the delicious stew I had last time we were in Alsace and suggested it very highly to everyone else, I decided on the safe stomach option and got a salad. Bad idea.

After dinner, we casually strolled through town back to the hotel where we finally got an internet signal. We tried to do some blogging and catch up on life over the pond back home. Once again, during my traditional nighttime shower after completely flooding the bathroom, I went to bed for a very early train to Munich! Oktoberfest, here we come!

Sidebar about euro showers: why can’t Europeans put up shower doors or shower curtains? No matter how careful you are, the floor gets soaked every time. Do they all take baths?

Pam and Glenn Said:

You could definitely tell the German influence here at this border town. What an interesting city on the L’Ill River. We had a great time walking around the old city where Glenn enjoyed a traditional stew of three different kinds of meat. (If he knew what was in it, he probably wouldn’t have eaten it.)
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1255186344/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1255186344/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1255186344/tpod.html Thu, 22 Oct 2009 00:32:47 -0400 Eurochalli II: The Stamms Do Oktoberfest

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Reims, Champagne-Ardenne, France

He Said:

Of all the stops planned for this trip, Reims is probably the one I was most looking forward to visiting. First of all, it was a new region of France for us – Champagne. Second, the town offered a little bit of everything – history, art, and, of course, the wine. I'll begin with the wine.

Though the tools have changed, the process of creating champagne has remained the same since it was first consumed by the region’s monks, including one named Dom Perignon. Champagne MUST be made in France’s Champagne region, and it usually consists of Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and occasionally, Pinot Meunier.

The grapes are picked in September and are mashed shortly after picking. The juice is then fermented and bottled according to specific blends, the first or second pressing, and the type of champagne being created including the best cuvee vintages. Small amounts of yeast and sugar are added to the bottle leading to the wine’s second fermentation, and the bottles are left to age in the myriad of caves beneath the cities of Reims and Epernay. Over time, the bottles are twisted and rotated upward so the yeasty sediment enters the mouth of the bottle. When it reaches the tip, the bottle is flash-frozen, the sediment is removed, the bottle is topped off, and then it is finally corked.

After we learned all this, we drank.

Almost as beautiful as the wine, Reims boasts one of the most amazing Gothic cathedrals ever constructed. Like so many cathedrals and basilicas throughout Europe, the stories of Catholic spirituality are told through the architecture, paintings, and sculptures because during the Middle Ages, people couldn’t read. This is how they learned the stories. For me, time and time again throughout all the religious buildings I have visited, I couldn’t care less what the stories are or what the lessons teach, but the sheer enormity of the structure and the beauty of the art gives me the same sense of awe and humility that the stories themselves are supposed to convey in the first place.

In the Notre Dame de Reims, there is also one small gem of modern art. Stained glass windows from the Russian-French artist, Marc Chagall, were installed in the axis of the cathedral’s apse in 1974, and they added an almost dreamy, modernist touch to the gothic structure that somehow seemed to fit. The cathedral was also the site where Clovis was baptized as the first king of the Francs, thus determining the country’s religion, and it was the coronation site for French kings including Charles VII in 1429. He was led to the cathedral by Joan of Arc, who encouraged him to rebel against English rule of France, marking the beginning of the end of the Hundred Years’ War.

The city of Reims was also the site for the beginning of the end of another war. Though it wasn’t announced until the next day, the Germans unconditionally surrendered to American, British, French, and Soviet forces at a schoolhouse near the train station on May 7, 1945. We saw the map room, completely preserved, where the signing of the Armistice took place, and to this day, the small museum remains adjacent to one of Reims’ schools.

The most memorable meal of our stay in Reims was at an art deco brasserie (many buildings in Reims were reconstructed after World War I, and a style of the times was art deco) called Boulingrin. It was suggested to us by a girl we met at the laundromat who had just graduated from Pitt University and was living in Reims teaching English. The meal turned out to be great – foie gras, escargot, steak frites, scallops St-Jacques, tartar, the best mousse au chocolat I’ve ever had, sorbet with a champagne liqueur, and a bottle of wine from Beaune – and our teacher friend was also kind enough to pass along some information on what teaching English in France is like.

Glenn and Pam Said:

Who would have thought you could find a restaurant/café on the main walking street named Ernest Hemingway in Reims? Besides the frequent cafes, our self-guided tour through the Notre Dame of Reims was enlightening. They had an old clock that was pretty cool. Going on two different champagne tours gave us a good perspective of the local/non-commercial and the big time export one. We really enjoyed the Martel/local where we were able to sample three different champagnes. The caves however, in the more commercial one were under the archbishop’s quarters. They were dug out by the Romans and we were at 10 degrees C. Our last night there we had a wonderful French dinner. We all tried the escargot—even Glenn!

She said:

As usual, I begin with accommodations. We arrived in Reims with three hotel options.

Since I was such a good sport in Paris, I was rewarded with the option of a bathroom in the room this time! Once again, Glenn and Pam waited with the bags as Chad and I began our ritual tour for an acceptable place to stay.

We ended up with a place in an ideal location, with a bathroom IN the room, but with some rather comical malfunctions. At first the elevator wouldn’t work, so we trekked the bags up a few flights. From there, things included a busted light in Pam’s face as she merely switched it on, a broken shower head (which Chad geniously MacGyvered with one of my hair bands), falling blinds from the hook as I tried to draw them closed for the night, and water was seeping out of the shower where it should have been sealed. Did I say seeping, I meant pouring! But all in all, it was fine. Not fine enough to avoid the sleep sac though; score is sleep sac 1, hotel sheets 2, not bad!

We got settled and showered and found a place for dinner that appeared to be Reims only brewery. Since it was Monday, the town was pretty dead, but after dinner, we toured a bit and saw this town’s impressive cathedral all lit up.

This is also where the next day began, with an audio tour of the cathedral, this time with narration and detail inside the church. Chad and I were psyched to team up again with the audioguide; one machine, two headphones. That is until Chad wanted to hear all of the OPTIONAL extended detail which the guide offer, but allows people (like me) to opt out of. My favorite part of this cathedral was definitely the windows. The first sets of windows were reminiscent of the Ste-Chapelle windows in Paris, which I loved, and houses some of the most amazing windows I’ve ever seen. These windows were modeled after those windows and were incredibly beautiful. The next windows were the Chagall windows. Another amazing work of art with all its colors and figures.

After the audio tour, we picked up food from a local market and had picnic by an old abbey. This before the next three hours were to be spent in the champagne caves learning all about where champagne started (yup, those monks knew what they were doing), how it was made way back when, and how its made in present day Champagne with the new technology. Amazingly, to my surprise, in this day and age of machines and electronics, there is still quite a necessity for manual work. We descended far enough to need jackets and saw bottles from what appeared to be prehistoric times!

The first tour was a family owned brand, only distributed in France. This was a more intimate tour and supplied us with three tastings at the completion, including a premier cru! The next tour you’ve probably heard of, Taittinger, was a bit more "factory-like" and repeated much of the same information we’d heard previously. They only gave us one sample of the cheapest bottle on the menu. The comparison may be best described with a beer analogy, Budweiser versus a locally brewed beer with limited distribution. My recommendation for anyone reading this who visits the champagne region is to take one tour of a local champagne cave, and then go to a local restaurant and do some sampling of all the different brands.

After all of that, it was time to wash our socks and undies. Yup, laundry day (or laundry 3 hours). So, not only are the unlocked internet signals harder to find since last trip, but the laundry places are also much more expensive. We did have a nice conversation with an American girl who was in France for six months to teach English. Although interesting, I was happy the dryer was finishing up because I almost lost Chad to this desire!

We had one of the most delicious dinners that night and ran into some really old ruins on the way back to the hotel, including carvings of Romulus and Remus!

Before leaving town, we visited the Armistice museum. Although I wasn’t too keen on going to a museum, I was outvoted. I also didn’t know which museum I was actually declining (yes, like a child). Well, it’s a good thing no one listened to me, because it turned out to be an excellent museum, with a generous collection of items preserved from the day that Europe declared victory over the Germans (hallelujah). It was easy to envision what it would have been like to be in that room, sitting at that long table (see pics) while the documents were signed. We spent enough time to appreciate all it had to offer, and headed for the train to…we had no idea…
]]> http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1255055781/tpod.html http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1255055781/tpod.html#comments Travel Blogs http://www.travelpod.com/travel-blog-entries/the_stamms/4/1255055781/tpod.html Thu, 22 Oct 2009 00:30:58 -0400 Eurochalli II: The Stamms Do Oktoberfest

Jump to the full
entry & travel map

Paris, Île-de-France, France

She Said:

We found out the night before we were to arrive in Paris that Hotel Stella was booked; Chad was crushed. Although, I didn't really want to stay in the same place that we stayed last time, I couldn’t argue that the neighborhood of the Latin Quarter was a fun and ideal location. But, this trip for me was all about new places, with new people, and new experiences, so I was excited to try somewhere new.

We arrived around 4-5 pm and settled the folks at a café in the train station to wait for Roger (a Stamm cousin who had some business in Europe and decided to take the train to meet us in Paris for the weekend, a great surprise) while we began to find some lodging for our stay. The tourist information booth was not at all helpful, so the pressure to speak French was on Chad to call hotels and find us a place. After we figured out how exactly to use a payphone (who uses those dirty payphones anymore?), he did great. We found a spot in a new neighborhood, but unfortunately, without a private bathroom for our price range. When Roger arrived, we exited the train station to find a cab line three times the size of a TKTS line in Times Square, on a holiday weekend, in good weather. We agreed on an overpriced car service for which Roger generously picked up the tab.

After getting checked in and settled, we walked around our new neighborhood, which turned out to be within walking distance to the Latin Quarter anyway. This area also included a lively street called Rue Mouffetard, which was filled with restaurants, bars, and shops. Each day, an open air market lined the street with vendors of cheese, meats, veggies, fruits, etc. Anything you could possibly want was on this street.

We had a nice dinner, with a hilarious waiter, and Roger ordered a dish of raw meat, better known as steak tartar. It continues to baffle me why Europeans, especially the French, eat raw meat and raw eggs without any issues. Are salmonella and e-coli an American thing? How is that possible? I have to admit, the steak tartar is pretty good too!

After a few drinks and some fun observations of the student scene and nightlife in the area (we were situated pretty close to the Sorbonne), we headed for bed. Following an uneventful night, except the line for the toilet down the hall at 1 am, we began the next day with our first full day of touring Paris, again. Since Chad and I had spent a significant amount of time here the last time we traveled, many sights and streets were already familiar. It was nice to be able to recognize things and get that "remember-the-last-time?" feeling as we passed restaurants and streets we spent time in nearly three years ago. We revisited Notre Dame (which was just as crowded as we’d left it), explored each of the different neighborhoods all over the city, did the “march” from the obelisk, down the Champs Elysees, through the Arc de Triomphe, and finished at the Eiffel Tower. We climbed the stairs of the tower, currently undergoing some construction, and enjoyed all the spectacular views it has to offer. We reminisced about spending my 30th birthday atop the tower three years ago and it made us smile.

We decided on a drink/appetizer hop for the night to be able to check out many different places. My favorite place by far was a place called “sweet lounge”. Not because the food or restaurant was anything special, but because it was here that we met an 81-year-old opera singer who became Chad and my companion for the next hour, and onto the next day actually. We realized afterwards that we never even got her name. She spoke many different languages, so Chad and I were able to speak with her in both Spanish and French. At times, she would speak to me in Spanish and then switch mid-sentence to French. I would look at Chad and he would know to take over the conversation. When the opposite happened, he looked at me and I would take over the conversation. It was so much fun! She sang us excerpts from Bizet operas, songs by Edith Piaf, and even included a verse of Barbara Streisand for the rest of our English-speaking group right at our table! She was amazing and seemed to us that she really needed and enjoyed conversing with new people. Although she had seven children, she seemed lonely to us both. When we left, we each planted a triple kiss on her cheeks just to cover our bases with cultural customs. A few bars later, and some rolls of sushi and sake, it was close to 2 a.m. Although the company and music were great, I was falling asleep at the table. It was time for bed!

The next morning, we allowed ourselves a later morning to sleep in and went to a local café for breakfast. My omelet was served with ham, cheese, and raw eggs. I asked for it to be cooked longer and after receiving a dirty look, it returned 10 minutes later, still raw in the middle. I politely pushed the plate towards Chad and ate my rice cake.

We took the train to Montmartre (which seemed even more crowded than we left it), but since the weather was beautiful, we joined the masses in walking around, getting great pictures of my favorite church painted for me by my husband, Sacre Coeur, and watched the artists in the square at work.

On this day, upon stopping at a cafe for a refreshment, during a visit to the WC (wc=water closet, water closet=bathroom), I ended up getting locked in the stall. Of course it was a single stall so there was no one around to hear my plea for help. I have no idea how the latch got stuck, but I pulled on the door so hard that eventually part of the lock flew off and landed in the toilet. The rest was easily disassembled and I was liberated. I hurried us out of the restaurant as if there was a fire and didn’t explain myself until we were clear of getting charged for destruction of property! Only me…

For our last night in Paris, we went for dinner in a new area called rue Cler. Since it was Sunday, many places were closed, and the restaurant we set out to find was booked. So we settled on a pretty touristy place called “tribeca.” We had great food, good wine, and ridiculously decadent desserts. Unfortunately, dinner was briefly tainted by a situation we refer to as “the ugly American travelers”. This was actually an unbelievable display of drama including three older women, a claim that a waiter who moved a chair hit one of the women in the leg, which not only caused her great distress and a request for ice, but also ended up sending her limping around the restaurant until she got the attention of the hostess, who was then forced to pick up the entire bill. We watched the whole thing play out and sat dumbfounded at this event. No matter what country you are from, you never like to see such a poor representation by its citizens. We explained to the waiter that most Americans were not like this and tried to offer a better example.

I did realize though that they were catering to us as Americans as the waiter attempted to clear my plate before everyone (Chad) was finished eating. In America, a server clears your plate when you are finished no matter who is still eating. This is the etiquette of our culture. In many other countries, they do not clear the plates until everyone at the table is finished. Since I married molasses, I have gotten in the habit of keeping my plate at home until Chad is finished, even though I am usually done before him. This is a custom I prefer and look forward to while in Europe. I was just short of wrestling it away when Chad finished.

On the subway on the way home, we noticed a young couple in matching Marmot jackets, and again, we smiled and reminisced about our honeymoon trip, where we too had matching Marmot jackets!

Although I had no real desire to visit the Louvre again, I agreed to go the next day in the hopes of actually enjoying it this time. I was pleasantly surprised that Rick’s tip for entering through the side door, the minute the museum opens, was the best kept secret for limiting the waiting time. We walked right in, sipped our espressos while we waiting for the gates to open, and were amongst the first to see good old Mona Lisa and Venus de Milo. I really tried to enjoy some of the art, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit that as the hours passed, my interest waned. Three hours is my limit and I begin to get what Chad likes to call “museum face.” I was done, and hungry. We headed to our local brasserie for lunch, picked up our bags, to head for the train to Reims.

Glenn’s observations:

- You are more likely to be run over by a bicycle than a car.

- How do they drive so fast and so crazy without lines on the streets?

- What’s up with these major streets that go around in circles? If you get stuck on the inside lane, do you ever get out?

- The Eiffel Tower is everything it’s cracked up to be.

- You can meet the strangest people in Paris….Cousin Roger….spending time together was a great highlight of Paris.

- Where did Chad learn all that French?

Pam said:

Riding the TGV train to Paris was a thrilling experience; so fast, on time, organized and did I say, fast? We met Roger in the station; him finding us while we were looking for him. What a great stay and visit we had eating at cafes and visiting the sights. The French economy must be very good as everyone was shopping and spending lots of money on the Champs Elysees. Seeing the Eiffel Tower at 11 p.m. twinkling was a sight to behold. The Louvre was very special for us—right Glenn?

He Said:

What’s crazy is that we never found out her name. I wanted to call her Edith Piaf, but Edith had long been buried in Pere Lachaise on the other side of the Seine. Our Edith, though, at the Sweet Lounge, which was really just a small creperie on Rue Mouffetard, was at least 75, probably 85. Between my French and Alli’s Spanish, we began to extract her story:

She was originally from Sicily. When Mussolini came to power, her family fled to Tunisia, a French colony at the time. As Tunisia gained their independence in 1956, her family moved to France where she still lives today, just down the street from the Sweet Lounge, which happens to be owned by a Sicilian.

She came from a musical family, and she loves to sing. She especially loves opera, so that has helped her learn a multitude of languages including French and Spanish, but also English and Italian. She had seven children, some of whom retained the genes for the family’s musical prowess; others have become lawyers and psychologists. We talked briefly about The War, and other wars since, about the people that wage them and the people that actually have to fight them, and we decided that we’re glad to have music. She sang from La Traviata, and then when I asked her about Edith Piaf, she sang Edith, as well.

No, Je ne regrette rien. No, I do not regret anything. And she didn’t either. You could just tell. This lady had seen a lot, been through a lot, but there was nothing to regret. Maybe it was her voice, maybe it was her forceful eyes, maybe it was the red wine. But our new friend Edith certainly meant what she said and what she sang, so when she invited us to come down to the square behind the local church the next morning, we showed up. We were treated to more of her singing, as well as a few classical French café favorites from the neighborhood’s local band of troubadours. I guess you could say, for the weekend, we became part of that neighborhood.

And of all the time I’ve spent in Paris and of all the wonderful things I’ve seen, the most amazing part of a visit to Paris is simply assimilating into a neighborhood and becoming local. That means frequenting the same café until you begin to recognize waiters no matter what time shift it may be: check. That means knowing which metro exit is closest to your hotel: check. And, finally, that means meeting and talking to people who live in that neighborhood: check.

Though I would have killed for more downtime to assimilate in the cafés to do some sitting, writing, drinking, nothing – the best part about this quick visit to the City of Lights was getting to share it with family. It was cool literally running into Roger at Gare du Nord. It was fun watching Pam trying to excite my dad about a trip to the Louvre. But I think my favorite image was on our first night as we rounded the corner to the front side of the Pantheon. The Eiffel Tower stood off in the distance in front of a pinkish sky (La Vie en Rose), and as I turned to my right, my dad literally stood there with his jaw dropped. The Fountain of Youth? I don’t know. But the Eiffel Tower made at least one old timer look like a kid.

Over the course of the weekend, we all did some of the familiar stuff to Alli and me: visiting Notre Dame, walking across the Pont des Arts, strolling through the Tulieries (though this time stopping for a Kronenbourg), marching up the Champs Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe, and of course, we had another blue sky day just like the last time we hiked the stairs of the Tour Eiffel. Ditto for our walk through Montmartre.

On this trip, though, it was finally time for me to visit the Louvre. No more holidays, no more cancelled night hours, no more Let’s Go incorrect guidebook bullshit listing the wrong hours. We got in, we got in early, and we got in often.

We began with some Greek figures including the Winged Victory and the Venus de Milo, and then we found the grand hallways upstairs where the Italian Renaissance paintings are held. Yes, Mona is kind of small. Yes, it sucks that you can’t get close to analyze the brush strokes. But it’s still amazing nonetheless to see a work of art that symbolized the Renaissance, though I will say that Michelangelo’s David is a much more powerful statement in my opinion. What I enjoyed the most was probably the French Romantic paintings including Eugene Delacroix’s Liberty Leading the People, and after a couple of other small discoveries during our visit, I realized that, guess what, I’ll probably need to go back.

But as I said, the best part of this visit Paris was being able to enjoy it with family. We had some very memorable table time including some classic French dishes with St. Emilion Bordeaux and a funny waiter; various pichets of wine at Café St-Andre des Arts (we had to go back to our old haunt for at least one drink!); random café stops for beers or wines or cheese plates or pastis; a night of brasserie hopping that included meeting our opera singer, drinking sake, and getting Gator scores on Roger’s phone from a bar in Place Contrescarpe; a fantastic meal with perfectly cooked meats and obnoxious Yankee tourists on the rue Cler; and finally, many occasions at our local café, Le Canon des Gobelins, where, just before we were leaving on our last morning, we read about Tim Tebow’s head injury. I almost threw up in my mouth, but I’m still not sure if it was from reading the headline or from the simple fact that we were about to leave Paris when I really didn’t want to. In fact, I was adverse to it.

As I thought it would, Paris still inspires me. I like being surrounded by all the architecture that makes the city both lacy and haunting, the artistic and literary history that makes it so humbling, the sheer volume of books for sale and works of art on display that makes it so intelligent, the café singers and making-out metro riders that give it so much passion. Paris just makes me want to make something, too – a book, a painting, a two-hour lunch, a baby? Well, it at least makes me want to practice those things.
]]>