we weresterdam

amsterdam is rivers and smiles and flowers and boats and bikes and bikes and bikes and bridges and blooms and rembrandt and van gogh and prince orange and firefighters from kentucky.

sam and i went local with rented bikes and rural with pitched tents. we wandered canaled boulevards for hours and hours, we sat on canaled ledges for days, we sipped espresso in canaled cafes for weeks. we simmered in the dutch oven until ready for dishing.

i've said it a few times this year: i could live here. bonn, vienna, köln, berlin, and onward. but the dam was different. i want to live there. i'll get me a black bike, a tailored navy blue suit with slick brown shoes, and i'll be on my way.

visit amsterdam. discounting the chi, the coolest city i've ever seen.


love, al!

a weekend on the bodensee

This weekend I went to the Bodensee (Lake Constance) with Hanna, Babsi, Teresa, and Liz.

The Bodensee is on the southernmost tip of Germany- bordering it are the German states of Baden-Württemberg and Bayern, Switzerland, and Austria. Liz came down to Heidelberg on Wednesday, and the next morning, bright and early, we all hopped on the Bummelzug south towards Konstanz. We rode on the Baden-Württemberg ticket, a wonderful deal by which 5 people ride all day on the slow trains through the entire state for 28 euro. It's cheap and beautiful- from Karlsruhe southwards we rode the Schwarzwaldzug (Black Forest train) through the small towns and villages of southern Germany. The Schwarzwald is breathtaking. Rolling hills, castles, rivers, cows, churches, farmers. We arrived in Konstanz around 1:30 and met Teresa, who met us after a night at home in the area.
We took the bus to another part of the city, all based off of Teresa's memories of a school field trip 7 years ago. Hanna asked a lady for directions and the lady thought she wasn't German due to her crass northern accent. We found the camping spot after a short walk and were told there was no room left- Teresa, doing her best impression of my mom, wiggled us into being allowed a spot. She's a girl you're happy to have on your side. We set up camp, shocked by the hospitable size of both tents. We were exhausted and promptly exhausted the food reserves we'd packed- the sun was very strong and we hid in the shade. Eventually we suited up and headed to the lake.
Expectations for this lake shed light on the differing notions of size between Germans and Americans. I live (and study) in Chicago on Lake Michigan. We consider Lake Michigan to be huge, but I think it's so big we all kind of consider it as an ocean. Its surface area is 58,000 km squared. A bit larger than Croatia. It's huge. But I feel like that's never really discussed, because it really is so huge.
The Bodensee, by comparison, is said to be this massive landlocked ocean, nestled between three countries and a must-see vacation location for millions of Europeans each year. Don't get me wrong, it is beautiful. From our camping location we could look southeast across the lake to the Austrian alps, covered in snow while the sun browned (or reddened) our skin. But its surface area is 536 km sq. That's less than 1/100th of Lake Michigan. Teeny. Wimpy. But still jaw-droppingly stunning.
Thursday evening we met up with Teresa's friend from grade school, Sina. She took us on a walk around Konstanz, ending up at an Asian take out place, from which we grabbed some noodles in boxes and headed towards the waterfront. There's something incredibly relaxing about a city, at night, on water. And add to that the German prowess at lighting buildings, it makes for a beautiful evening. We ate there and talked for a while and eventually made our way back to the campground and our tents. The skies had been threatening all evening, and once we had safely entered our tents Mother Nature decided it was appropriate to let loose. While enjoying wine and candlelight in the tent, the heavens let loose and we decided to call it a night before it got any worse. The rain continued for hours but we stayed (mostly) dry. Sleeping outside in the rain isn't quite as enjoyable as watching a storm from a balcony- it's less spectator and more participant, but we made it through the night unscathed and were given the gift of beautiful weather on Friday.
Friday we had breakfast on the lake, with the rising sun beating onto us. I went for a swim early. The lake was bitter, bitter cold, but after 20 minutes or so it was quite refreshing. And the evaporative cooling once you left was also nice. We relaxed in the sun for most of the day, reading, swimming, and laying in the sun. In the evening we went to Sina's apartment for dinner. Sina's roommate, his brother, her dad, and her boyfriend joined our ranks for a party of 10- we all wandered to the grocery store and got our wares. On their sweet and sizeable balcony we grilled sausages, chicken, veggies, cheese, and more, but the absolute highlight of the night was the Bärlauch brought by Sina's dad. Bärlauch in english is called ramson, wild garlic, or bear's garlic. I'd never seen, tasted, or heard of it before coming to Germany, but I'd never eaten it fresh until Friday. Bärlauch is basically a highly concentrated spread, rich in Vitamin C and tasting sharp-spicy-garlicy. It was fantastic, with bread, sausage, chicken, what have you. Sadly the leaves bloom around mid May and become not so tasty, so that may have been my last chance to eat it fresh. Thanks to Sina for her hospitality and a wonderful evening.
Saturday we decided to do one more day in Konstanz, soaking up rays and reading books. I finished "Der Vorleser" (The Reader). More on that later.
We packed up the camp and headed towards Konstanz for lunch. From Konstanz we rode the train to Teresa's home in Waldshut. Along the way the train passed through Schaffhausen, Switzerland- a new country! We also saw through the windows the Rheinfall, or Rhein Waterfall- huge, and cool, but again, Niagara is 52 m tall and the Rheinfall is 23m. I'm not saying, I'm just saying.
Teresa's home is beautiful. Waldshut is directly on the border of Germany and Switzerland, as far south as one can live in Germany. It's right on the Rhein and one can see Switzerland from her balcony. Her home is perched on a hill overlooking the town, looking south. Again, breathtaking. Saturday night (after showering for the first time in three days) we had a late dinner of garlic bread and tomato-mozzarella salad on their patio by candlelight. Lot's of wonderful beer was enjoyed, and eventually the guitar came out. My favorite song was Nowhere man. Pure joy.
I slept in a bed (!) and we woke to another beautiful day today in southern Germany. We had a perfect, traditional breakfast and hopped on the train back towards romantic Heidelberg. I'm tired.

I said goodbye to Liz again. Each time it's tougher than before, but as we said, it's sad because it's so happy.

So as I mentioned, I finished Der Vorleser yesterday. I got home today and found the movie online. I haven't finished it yet, but a few things have jumped out to me, and they mainly pertain to the adaptation, in general, of a book into a movie. I'm watching this movie directly after finishing the book, and I'm shocked by how subtle a book can be, and by comparison, how blunt a movie is, at least in this case. When the character is well known (I'd spent the last 3 days with them), and the plot is also no surprise, one can analyze other elements more closely. Certain moments, intended to be subtle upon first screening and prophetic upon later screenings, appear slow, unnecessary, and indulging. I don't want to give away anything in the film, but I gained an appreciation today of the power of literature to introduce and guide, as opposed to film's ability, or tendency, to bluntly affront.

Anywho, I hope all is well with everyone. My next trip is hopefully a bike tour along the Neckar to visit a friend studying in Tübingen. It'll be a two day ride with a layover in some little village. Maybe this weekend? Another great thing about the trip this past weekend- excluding food, it cost each of us a grand total of 34 euro. Unbelievable.

The first photo is our view from the campground beach area. The second is a tree on the shore, and the third is the view from Teresa'sliving room. The power plant is in Switzerland.

Love from Heidelberg,

Al

travel

Pictures from my trip can be found here.
I couldn't blog while traveling the last couple weeks- so I opted for the old fashioned journal and found it quite rewarding. I took my notebook with me practically everywhere during my trip and wrote whenever something stru
ck me. I'd also try and summarize a bit at the end of each day. Here is the vast majority of my travel journal, transcribed for your reading pleasure:

12.3.09
In Frankfurt Hahn Airport. Literally Arsch der Welt. Gary IN has got nothing on the place. No train service here, must take bus--> only runs every 4 hrs, so I am here 4 hours early. Ugh. But my bag was only 8.5 kg, so I get to carry it on. I'll be in Rome late tonight. Depending if I'm tired I may go for a walk and find a bar. We'll see. Yesterday a 17 yr old killed 16 people at his former school outside Stuttgart. Life is way too precious. People need to recognize that beauty, or even the possibility of it, is worth living for, in all its forms.
13.3.09- Rome.
-Piazza della Repubblicca
-Monumento a Vittoria Emmanuella
-Castel St Angelo
-Vatican
-Palazzo Chiggi
-Trevi Fountain
-Quirinale
-Prego, Ciao!
-Italians drive mopeds or smarts. No bikes.
-Language of tourism is English.
-Traveling alone- strange, but could get used to it? Heidelberg tourists< style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2lz5oGvQmIvVhpgxBH4P5CukNrbVp6iuC-3n0kFT46MAoXxGRrIMcAAIkdsF0hvJYXnJaXOu16cg8m-YeNuQ1szbVktcIJEpozbuYuZiBQgN6gXnn1GH76FRaQGldQqHaR3IhuxO28Bw/s320/DSCN0854.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318001028329809330" border="0">The gardens of the Palatinate are paradise- Roman dreams. Sun and shade are mixed with birds and flowers, ancient stones coexist with just-bloomed dandelions. My feet are free and open for the first time in months. A garden cannot be ruins- it follows different rules than stone or wood. It's alive--> it cannot die. It's reborn each spring.
-
15.3.09
Hopefully going to hear the Pope speak today- I think so, as the crowds continue to grow here in St Peters Sq. The morning couldnt have been much better- showered and out by 8:30, breakfast, then a 1hr walk to the Vatican. I wore a collared shirt for the occasion.
Finished 1984 yesterday, but wish I hadn't- now I have only Siddartha left, and it's short. May re-read.
I bought a man-purse yesterday. Karma immediately punished me, as the lady gave me the smaller size so nothin fits. But I make it work. Oh well, I learned my lesson.
Do people get home from vacations and watch the entire video they've filmed? I can't imagine re-watching my panorama scene of St. peters. Maybe I'd rewatch my kid hiccup.
When did the narrator write 1984? He had to have lived outside of the society. Time/geographical distance?

Christus Vincit
Christus Regnat
Christus Imperat
Christus Abomnimalo
Plebem Suam Defendat
religion of love? certainly not that of humility.

-
no TV, no computer, no internet, no music, no phone, no companion- books have become my partners, by eating sleeping and walking.

[From Darwin exhibit in Rome]
"It is interesting to contemplate an entangled bank, clothed with many plants of many kinds, with birds singing in the bushes, with various insects flitting about, and with worms crawling through the damp earth, and to reflect that these elaborately constructed forms... have all been produced by laws acting around us. There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having originally been developed into a few forms or into one; and that whilst this planet has gone cucling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been, and are being, evolved." -C Darwin.
-
At a concert tonight in St. Ignatius Loyola in Roma. Beautiful church- sure to be a beautiful concert. Except for the fake dome that Bernini painted on. The illusion works from the back but from where I am sitting.
I miss Liz. More, I miss our relationship. Walking, holding hands. It'll be at least 14 months before that can regularly happen again. She's in India, I'm in Rome. We are growing as individuals, learning about ourselves and experiencing the world.
It's not that I can't wait.
16.3.09
Rome is... impressive. 5000 years of history jammed into 9 square miles... every corner reveals another suprise, another invitation to discovery. I was in the Vatican museums today- impressive, what the popes have managed to steal over the years. Again, impressive. The Sistine Chapel, as touristy as it is, was amazing. Adams hand stretched out to God- very sympathetic, very almost humble... A sort of weakness and dependance. An awareness of imperfection.

And St Peters, well, as Thorsten has said, the Dom makes him believe there is a God, or something- St Peters has a similar effect. it is immense, grandiose- a fitting center of Catholicism. I feel that the time, money, and creativity poured into its creation and maintenance could be put to better usage, but the beauty of it mystifies me and I feel that I must somehow justify it.
I have eaten nothing but pizza in Italy. Also fitting.
Looking forward to spring in Heidelberg. Playing music outside, hiking, reading. It will be low pressure and nice.
I leave tomorrow for Greece- excited! A completely different culture. Excitied for Souvlaki.
Ciao Roma!
Yahsas Greece.
18.3.09 ("I'm so tired of being alone")
Didn't write yesterday- was a bit shook up.
First impressions- rain! Ugh. 5 straight glorious days in Roma and then the heavens open up. Hopefully I'll get at least one clear sunset in Santorini.
Also, wild dogs, everywhere. No collars- they roam the streets, peeing everywhere in and out of stores- but they seem to know which lines they can't cross- they survive somehow.
But yesterday my brashness of doing this trip completely alone finally caught up to me. I went out for a walk after I'd checked into the hostel. It was about 4:30 pm, rainy, getting darker but really just cloudy. I headed out with the goal of finding my hostel for the weekend (after my jaunt to the islands). It's in the historic Plaka district, probably no more than 20 minutes from my current hostel. I found a souvlaki place that seemed nice- paused for a few minutes to look over the menu as a potential dinner spot that evening. I knew I could do it because they had a separate English menu. As expected, I've found Athens a bit more English and foreigner friendly, if and only superficially if because of the Greek alphabet. If you don't know Greek you cant do anything with the script, and so the script mus be translated into the Latin alphabet if they want anyone non-Greek to read things in the establishment. But so I lodged that in my initerary and moved on.
After maybe 20 steps a man walked up to me and asked me the time, in Greek. I gave the universal confused look and he smiled and in broken English asked me again. He struck up a conversation with me, inquiring as to where I'm from, how long I am in in Athens, etc. I told him i was looking for Plaka and he said the bar he works at is in Plaka, and he'd be happy to lead me there and offer me a shot of Ouza (the Greek national liquor) to start off my adventures. Now, at this moment my instincts were pure and unweary. This, I thought, is just an example of the famed Greek hospitality, of which I read multiple times in multiple guidebooks, how it'd be impossible during any stay in Greece to avoid a friendly interaction with locals. A bit prompt, I noticed, but nonetheless it was to be expected and enjoyed as a genuine cultural experience with local Athenians. He told me about himself- 4 kids, one divorce, a new wife, two jobs. He was very open, kind, almost eager to share with me his intimate details.
After ten minutes winding through the narrow crooked dark streets of Athens we made it to his bar. "New York Bar" it was called, I think. It was small- one oval bar with stools and room next to the windows for just two tables. It was claustrophobic, smoky, dim. There were very few people- one bartender, my new friend, and one customer, if I recall correctly. He sat me down at the unoccupied table and asked the bartender for an ouzo with orange juice for me. He went to the bathroom to dry off, so I waited to drink until he returned.
A few minutes passed without his arrival. A woman, the customer I'd noticed before, sat down next to me. She asked me if I mind if she joins me, in English. I said of course not! I was happy to be meeting people, even if she was not Greek (British) it was good to talk and she didn't seem to care if I wanted her to join me or not. She stank of liquor- everything about her seemed to swim in gin or ouzo. She reminded me, due to both her accent and mannerisms, of the great Cap'n Jack Sparrow- yet less made up and far less photogenic. She told me she worked at the bar- it showed, as she kept up a snappy Greek rapport with the bartender and another male patron. I eventually realized my friend was coming back.
The woman spoke quickly and slurredly, asking me questions and smalltalking to a shocking degree. As I sipped my drink she'd gulp hers, a "cocktail" she called it, and after each one she'd ask if she could have another. Why not? After all, she worked there. I was under the assumption I was drinking on the house as well, thanks to the famed Greek hospitality. In the span of my 1 drink, about 20 minutes, she'd had 5- she would gulp, reach down and pour from a bottle by her side. She asked multiple times if I'd like another, but I was uninterested- I really was itching to get going and see some ancient Athenian shit.
And so I finished my drink and she snapped her fingers for the check. The large man with whom she'd been intermittently speaking waddled over to the table with a piece of paper, placed it on the table, and said "135 euro."
-
What?
135 Euro. You pay she drinks.
I had one drink.
No. One is 10 Euro. She 5, is 125 Euro.
Um, I'm not paying for her drinks.
You say yes she can drink! You say yes!
Yes, because she works here... Of course she could!
(Lady) I don't do this cuz its fun, honey! Give him the money!
I don't have that much money. I'm just a student. There's my 10 Euro for my drink.
-
The man gave me a menu- it seemed that there was one extra 0 everywhere I looked. All the drinks were between 10 and 20 Euro. He flipped to another section- "Lady's drinks"- here they were all over 25Euro. I didn't know what to do.
-
Listen, sir, I never said I'd buy her drinks. And I definitely will not.
You said you buy! You said yes! Give me 50 Euro.
No! I payed for my drink, I'm leaving.
How much you have? You give me 50 Euro.
I am not giving you anything. I paid for my drink, I'm leaving.
-
He grabbed my arm and I pushed him away. I'm nervous, but somehow feel in control. They had nothing on me- I had absolutely not agreed to her services, and they were attempting to strong arm me. I made my way for the door.
-
You gay? If you say you gay, then you can leave.
I'm gay!
(Laughter)
-
And I bolted. I ran for a while through the rain, confused and a bit lost. I found a main square and stopped to make sure I had everything with me. I was soaked, scared. I found my way back to the hostel, talking to myself the whole way back, explaining what had just happened. Once inside the lobby I ordered an espresso and quickly gulped it down. I found a fellow traveler from Holland and spilled the entire story, as it was practically leaping out of me. He nodded in understanding and related a similar story from his travels in Havana Cuba. My nerves wouldn't settle all night. I didn't eat; I really had no appetite. I took a long hot shower and read in bed until tired enough to drift into a restless sleep.
-That was my first impression of Athens. Let's hope my weekend there is better.
Now to the Islands!
-
Santorini is... idyllic. It is so quiet, but only because it is low season. From my hotel it is a 30 minute walk to the main town- the view is, as advertised, majestic. The cliffs are sheer- quiet but quite loudly warning of the danger of one false step. I think I've come during construction season- the cooler months before the swarm descends post-Easter.
The northern town of Oia brags to be the best place to see the sunset because it is unobstructed by the other islands in the group- that may hold true in the summer when the sun sets due west. Now it falls ~ 15 degrees S of W, and Oia's view may be poor (all relative!). It may be perfect where I am now.
[an amatuerish diagram follows here of Santorini, with a compass and the two locations estimated.]It was nice.
I am afraid the swimsuit was a bit wishful.
19.3.09
This is the most beautiful place in the world that I have seen. I do not say that lightly. This is pure natural beauty. The result of a massive, catastrophic volcanic explosion 4000 years ago. Mittenwald Germany is 2nd.
-
Oia- This place is completely empty. A ghost town. I hear it is crazy in the summer- at a rate of 10 proposals per hour, at least. And after 10 pm the calories expended making love on this island could power Chicago for a week. I think I'd hate it in the summer, but now it is perfect. I went to a wonderful little bookstore and sple with German with the very nice girl- she gets to live here 6 months out of the year and sell books. She says she loves it these days but summer can be unbearable- hot and full. She complimented my Deutsch.
They are repainting the white walls white. Sinn?
Gyros are fantastic! Way better than döner. They throw french fries on top. It's tasty.
I am watching this sunset tonight from the westernmost tip of Oia- and I'll be honest, it's breathtaking. Better than yesterday... almost no clouds. But I'm afraid that I burnt today.
But its louder here. Lots of Americans, saying things for the sake of making noise. Inner peace can only be found through silence and oneness. Turn off everything except the ability to absorb, to experience.
Crazy loud here... how can you not be awed to silence? Out of respect.
Moments like this are why I may prefer deafness to blindness. Although I do believe beauty, pure beauty, can exist through any medium as well as in any mixture of mediums.
This human experience is wild. I am one. It's a constant and relentless struggle between the ethereal, the beautiful, the asthetic, that we consciously possess, and the base, instinctive, us as descendants of monkeys. How can I want a beautiful woman and want beauty in its theoretical sense at the same time?
Find the beauty. Trust that it is there.
Where did all these people eat this afternoon?
We've been lucky to evolve on a planet as beautiful as this. We better not fk it up.
Beautiful! Good job, curvature of the earth.
Home finally. But this new red face of mine may take some getting used to.
20.3.09
to Athens today. I'll most likely get to the hostel ~ 5pm, so I'll read, find dinner, and call it a night. No wandering anymore.
I made two attempts this morning to reach the ocean on the east side of the island- to no avail. Head east from the caldera (volcano rim) and it becomes poorer and more destitute- I tried following the donkey/mule paths to the coast but couldnt. A truck passed me on the road- the driver was shouting things into a mounted loudspeaker, but it was Greek to me. As he passed I smelled something foul- the back was full of tightly caged chickens. Poor guys. I ate an egg for breakfast.
The sunrise was nice this morning, but cold. The best part was the sound- refuting, or at least challenging, my theory of last night. Maybe deaf at night and blind in the morning. Rather neither.
I am outside writing and the wonderful owner here just brought me some chilled Santorinian wine, just to make me more comfortable. They did this when I arrived as well, and last night when I got home late the lady knocked on my door and offered me dinner! She put it on my table then turned my heater on. These people are genuinely kind. But living and working here can't be too bad. It's beauty is beyond description, and down time means sitting in the sun and having a cigarette. Not bad.
The flight will be nice today- probably quiet and no clouds.
A fly in my wine. Sir, what's a fly doing in my wine?
The backstroke! (love you dad!)
-----

The journal ends there. I didn't write much in Athens- but I had a wonderful time. I met a bunch of fellow lone traveleres at the hostel (Athens Backpackers- highly recommended). We explored the city together- highlights were obviously the Acropolis, plus the National Archaelogical Museum (masterpiece after treasure after priceless artifact) and Mount Lycavittos, a massive hill overlooking all of sprawling Athens. A massive city, a center of Western civilization and democracy.

Again, for more pictures visit the flickr site linked above.

School starts again Monday, so I'm getting organized. Very, very excited for Summer Semester in romantic Heidelberg.

Hope all is well everywhere. Love,
Al