Mike D Goes to Europe!

Two weeks after returning home, I have finally finished sorting through all my photos from the trip. So as to break them down into manageable chunks, I have separated them by destination, and in some cases, further separated them by particular sites. Here are the links to all the sets, more or less in chronological order:

Cinque Terre
Nice
Arles
Pont du Gard
Nimes
Paris - general
Notre Dame
The Louvre
Versailles
Bruges
Amsterdam
Rhine River Valley
Marksburg Castle
Rheinfels Castle
Rothenburg ob der Tauber
Medieval Crime Museum
Deutsches Museum
Neuschwanstein
Munich - general
Dachau

ENJOY!!!

Well, I’m back in LA, and still shaking off the last of the jet lag.  I have been home since late Sunday night and I have dreamt about Europe every single night since I got back.

I had an amazing trip, and I want to thank everyone I met along the way for helping to make it the vacation of a lifetime for me (in chronological order):

Gary Denn (aka Gary from Albany), Kerttu and Elina from Finland, David and Gloria from Minnesota, the Irish couple and the Scottish couple I had dinner with in Nice (I don’t remember getting any names), Catherine from Montreal, Candice, Liz and Monica from Chicago (you saved my ass at the Pont du Gard), Anne-Cécile (my new old friend in Paris), Amber at Vlaming Eten en Drinken in Amsterdam, Mr. & Mrs. Gary Coleman (not that Gary Coleman) from San Jose, Axel & wife (name forgotten) & Benji (their dog) from Brussels, Christine from San Francisco, Dave and Catherine from Charlotte, Tatyana and Veronica from Siberia, Nivia from Puerto Rico, Jason from Minnesota, and of course, Bernd, Timo (Bernd’s co-worker) and Anemone, who made sure I had somewhere to go and someone to be with on my birthday.  That was huge, and I will never forget you all for being there with me.

And a special thanks to my friends in LA who introduced me to their friends overseas: Dave Schulz & Lino Wiehen.  Thanks for the hook-ups, guys.  They made a big difference!

And a bonus thank you to my good friends Meredith and John, who gave me some incredibly useful (and some less so [John]) travel-related gifts before I left.

And of course, a big thanks to my Mom & Dad for donating their airline miles so that I could upgrade to Business Class. What an enormous difference. Now I’m spoiled and can never fly Coach again. They also paid for a bunch of the travel gear that I took along. Thank you!

Lastly, let me just say that I brought a lot of photos back with me.  I am working on getting them edited and organized.  When they have been uploaded, I will post the link(s) on this blog.

With my birthday done, Saturday, November the 1st, felt something like the epilogue of my European story. It was to be my last full day before returning home.

Originally, I had planned to spend the day in Salzburg. It’s about an hour and a half by train from Munich. I thought it would be fun to see Mozart’s home and the Von Trap’s (”Sound of Music”) house, as well as adding another country to my list. But November 1st is a national holiday, All Saints Day, in both Germany and Austria, and most placed would be closed. Additionally, the forecast for Salzburg was for rain, but Munich was surprisingly sunny and relatively warm. I decided it wasn’t worth going to Salzburg under the circumstances, and resolved to have a relaxing, low-key day in the Munich area.

And what better way to relax than to visit a nice camp for the day? Granted, it was a former Nazi concentration camp, but it still had the word “camp” in it, and I think that’s what’s important here.

Dachau is about 45 minutes from downtown Munich, by a combination of train and bus. It is open on holidays and is always free. You can get an audio guide for a few Euros, but I opted instead for the guided tour, which was quite good.

The place is every bit as sobering as you might expect. According to records, the gas chamber at this particular camp was never used, but that doesn’t make it any less chilling to walk through it. The original crematorium was so busy that they built a second, larger one. As you walk the grounds, you can imagine the smoke that once came out of their chimneys and realize that the earth you are walking on was once covered in the ashes of human remains.

Unlike museums, there is no food being sold at the camp. By showing up around lunch time, I had gambled and lost there. I was so hungry on the way back, that I stooped to something I had no intention of doing while in Europe - I went to McDonald’s. The train from Dachau to Munich wasn’t due for 30 minutes and the Golden Arches was the only place open. Some American I had met along the way (I think it was Catherine from Charlotte) had told me that the meat in European McDonald’s was actually much better than in the States, and that I had to try the “Royale with Cheese.” Well, maybe she went in France. Here in Germany, it is pretty much an identical experience to being back home.

As I sat there and munched on my Doppel-Cheeseburger and Pommes Frites, I couldn’t help but be struck by the irony. The cows that make these burgers are treated in much the same way as the prisoners at the camps. They don’t do forced labor, but they are treated abysmally, until one day they are killed and made into something useful for someone else.

Update: here are some photos from this part of my trip:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/therealmiked/sets/72157608746950597/

At last came the day that was the inspiration for this trip -my big birthday, number 4-0. I had wanted to distract myself from dwelling on it by doing something so exciting that I didn’t have time to think about it. And with this trip to Europe, I have succeeded. But it would be wrong to let the day go by without any sort of acknowledgement. And this fact was recognized by my new German friends.

My friend and former Yahoo! co-worker, Lino, introduced me to a couple of his friends from when he used to live in Munich. When I spoke to one of them on the phone, a lovely girl named Anemone (unusual name, to say the least), she immediately decided that she was taking me out for my birthday. Bernd, whom I had met a few days earlier, would be joining the party, along with his co-worker, Timo. So the stage was set for me to celebrate this momentous occasion with a room full of German people, who were either friends of friends or friends of friends of friends, most of whom I had never met before that night. An unusual scenario, to be sure, but perhaps it will end up being more memorable because of its strangeness.

Anemone, who had never even seen a picture of me, told me to meet her in front of a particular store near where I was staying. Bernd and Timo, who had met me a little earlier for a pre-celebration, waited with me. As we were standing there, not really sure what Anemone looked like either, I got a happy birthday phone call from my good pal, Dave Schulz, back in LA. While I was in the phone, a group of three or four people came up and started talking to Bernd. I found out later that he knew a couple of them from a project he had worked on a while back, and it was a total coincidence that they were there at that moment, but I didn’t know this at the time. While that conversation was going on, I saw a very attractive young lady approach from across the street, and stop a few paces away from this small crowd, scanning for some sort of recognition. While still on the phone with Dave, made eye contact with her and somehow, with just a few looks and facial expressions, we figured out who each other was. Bernd and Timo seemed to figure it out, too, as they separated from the other group and we all started walking to Anemone’s car. I didn’t get off the phone to introduce myself and say hello to this person until we were already in her car and on our way.

She took us to meet some more of her friends (more friends of friends of friends) at a bar/restaurant called Hey Luigi. There, I had several tall beers, explained the story behind my t-shirt with the odd German phrase on it (they appreciated the joke, by the way - thanks again, Dave), and narrowly avoided a shot of Jagermeister, which was apparently considered to be too expensive at this establishment.

Have you ever anticipated something for so long that when it finally happens, it almost doesn’t seem real? At some point, I had a moment where I looked out across the bar and realized that this was it. I was 40. It was done. And I marked it by drinking with virtual strangers (albeit very friendly strangers) in Germany. That may sound a little melancholy, but to the contrary, I really enjoyed it. It was a unique experience, which is what I wanted. All in all, I think my birthday plan worked out pretty well.

The picture below is from the Hofbräuhaus the night before, as I didn’t get any pictures of the birthday festivities with my iPhone (plenty with the camera, though - you’ll all see them later). I think it still captures the spirit of the evening.

Update: here are some photos from this part of my trip:
Munich - general

On Wednesday, the 29th, I finally arrived at the final stop on my European tour - Munich. After more missed and late trains, I arrived in the early evening. A little while later, I met up with Bernd, a German friend of Colin Sears, one of my good friends (and former bandmate) from back in DC. Bernd has lived in Munich for several years, but is originally from (West) Berlin. He took me out for some traditional Bavarian food (despite his advice against it - I insisted), followed by beers at a smokey, but otherwise very cool, punk rock bar.

Thursday was rainy and cold (a common condition for the German leg of my trip), so I thought I would visit some museums. I planned to check out the Deutches Museum in the morning, grab some lunch, then swing by the Residenz (former royal palace of the King of Bavaria). I never made it to the Residenz because the Deutsches Museum was way too damn cool. This place is to technology what The Louvre is to art. They have some 40 or so wings, highlighting the histories of everything from printing to aeronautics to microelectronics. Despite the sparse descriptions in English, there was a lot of really interesting stuff to look at. My favorite sections were the ones on musical instruments, electricity, and computers (lots of cool “antiques” from the 50’s and 60’s, with rooms full of vacuum tubes and tape reels). I kept thinking I was about to leave, right after I checked out just one last section. I was there all day and maybe saw about a third of the place.

Thursday night’s dinner was the obligatory visit to the touristy, but still fun, Hofbräuhaus, where I fulfilled my dream of drinking two liters of beer (a single mug full is one liter) and eating a pretzel the size of a small dog. I ended up sitting with an American couple, Dave and Catherine from Charlotte, NC, and we had a good time swapping travel stories to the relaxing sounds of oompah.

Friday, I took a tour bus to see “Mad” King Ludwig’s castle, Neuschwanstein, out in the Bavarian countryside. Ordinarily, I don’t really like organized tours, but in this case, without renting a car, there’s really no other way to get there. I made some more travel buddies for the day, including Jason from Minnesota, Nivia from Puerto Rico, and two lovely ladies from Siberia, Veronica and Tatyana. The tour went first to Ludwig’s smaller palace, Linderhoff, then to the tiny alpine town of Oberammergau, where we were directed to shop. Clearly, the tour guide is getting kickbacks from the souvenir shops there, as it is not a particularly remarkable place. Tatyana and I wandered around the town and then found ourselves lost only a few minutes before the bus was supposed to leave. We made it back just in time and earned a good-humored scolding from the guide.

Then we made our way out to Neuschwanstein. Scarcely have I seen such beautiful scenery in my life. It was so picturesque, it almost didn’t seem real. That said, the castle can only be seen with a guided tour and no picture-taking is allowed. The guide practically runs through the various rooms, and the tour of this magnificent building is over in half an hour. The tour of Linderhoff was just as bad, if not worse. As long as it took to get out there (about two hours in the bus, plus a 25 minute walk up the hill to the castle), it felt like a bit of a letdown, compared to Versailles, for example, where you can wander around on your own schedule. Don’t get me wrong - it’s a very cool place. I just think the tour experience could be better.

Update: here are some photos from this part of my trip:
Deutsches Museum
Neuschwanstein

On Tuesday, I made a one-day stop in the town of Rothenberg ob der Tauber, a town which has been remarkably well-preserved since medieval times. I teamed up with a fellow Rick Steves traveller who I met in one of the many stations in which I had to change trains, Christine from San Francisco. We walked around the ludicrously picturesque town for a while, toured the extensive Medieval Crime and Punishment Museum, had a typical German dinner (schnitzel, schnitzel and more schnitzel), then took the entertaining and informative Night Watchman’s Walking Tour.

Every third shop in this town seems to sell the “local specialty,” Schneeballen (German for “snowballs”), which is a delicious-looking pastry about the size and shape of a baseball that comes in a variety of flavors. The key phrase here is “delicious-looking.” It turns out they’re kind of ho-hum. I don’t know why they seem to be so excited about them.

This town also has the biggest Christmas store I have ever seen. Open year-round, they also have a Christmas museum upstairs.

Does the picture below look familiar? If you can’t place it, look up at the top of the page.

Update: here are some photos from this part of my trip:
Rothenburg - General
Medieval Crime Museum

I’ve been off the grid since I got to Germany. There’s no internet access in these little towns, and barely any cell service. But now that I’m connected again, here’s what I’ve been up to…

I have been visiting the Rhine river valley, staying in the town of Bacharach. If Bruges is “like a fairytale,” this place ups the storybook ante, with a whole town full of half-timbered gingerbread houses. Despite Germany’s reputation for beer-drinking, this region is known for its local wine, mostly of the Riesling variety. This stretch of the Rhine is dotted with a dozen or more medieval castles. I visited what are thought to be two of the best.

Marksburg is the best-preserved castle in the region. It was originally built around 1200-ish and was never destroyed, while many others nearby have been partially destroyed and subsequently reconstructed. One of the highlights was the restroom off the banquet hall. It’s a small room that juts out of the exterior castle wall on the third story of the building. “Flushing” meant that it just fell on the ground outside the castle.

Burg Rheinfels is a ruined castle, overlooking the town of St. Goar. Let me just back up for a moment and say that trains in Germany are apparently late all the frickin’ time. But only the train you’re on is late. The one you’re trying to connect with is on time. Thus far, I have missed two and will likely miss another on my way to my next destination.

That said, I missed the train that I wanted to take to St. Goar. The next one got me to the station about 8 minutes before the castle was due to close. The walk from the train station to the castle: 15 minutes. Knowing that it would be tight, I ran up the hill to the castle and arrived about 1 minute after closing. I pleaded my case to the woman at the ticket booth, who allowed me to go in for “5 minutes.” 20 minutes of furious picture-taking later, I came back to the exit and found it shut and abandoned by all staff and fellow patrons. After a momentary panic over the idea that I might be spending the night amongst the ruins, I figured out how to open the gate from the inside. After exiting, I realized that I had dropped my camera case somewhere inside. Luckily, while I was able to open the gate from the inside, I had not been able to get it closed again from the outside, so I went back in and found the case. Quite a day’s adventure.

Update: here are some photos from this part of my trip:
Rhine River Valley - General
Marksburg Castle
Rheinfels Castle

As foretold in the previous post, it was time for me to take a little break from trying to see every sight in Europe and relax a little. Amsterdam was a good place to do so. My hotel was in what seems to be one of the best neighborhoods in the city, the Jordaan. It’s full of old houses, picturesque canals, and lots of cozy cafes and pubs. By contrast, the city center, radiating out from Dam Square, is one giant tourist ghetto. The Jordaan feels like the place where the locals hang out.

Speaking of tourists, the Red Light District is unbelievably crowded with gawkers. I even saw several elderly couples wandering around taking pictures.

I did do a little sightseeing. I went to the Anne Frank house, which was very humbling. I also took a boat tour through the city’s canals and around the harbor. But that was about it.

The people were very friendly. I had a great dinner, sitting at the bar, at a neighborhood joint called Vlaming Eten en Drinken. The two bartender/waitresses were very chatty and eager to discuss LA.

I would love to go back to Amsterdam some time. There are more sights to see, but moreover, it’s a great place to hang out and have a beer. And a pancake!

Update: here are some photos from this part of my trip:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/therealmiked/sets/72157608744323627/

Waffles, chocolate and beer! What more could a man ask for? I scheduled only one day for myself in Bruges but I wish I could have stayed longer (Dave, you were right). One could easily spend two or three days here. Since I only had the one day, I saw it at a fast pace, but Bruges fosters a relaxing atmosphere. It’s a good place to just sit on a bench by a canal and soak up the scenery.

And there’s plenty of scenery to soak up. Bruges is essentially a preserved medieval town, although some of it has been built in the last two centuries to look medieval. There are 17 churches and over 100 cafes and pubs. Those of you who have seen the film, “In Bruges,” will be familiar with the bell tower, which is the tallest and most central building in the town. What they don’t mention in the film is that the climb to the top involves some 400 steps up a spiral staircase that’s too narrow for more than one person. The view from the top is impressive, although it’s very windy and when the bells ring (every 15 minutes during the day), it’s really loud.

Other highlights included taking a boat tour through the towns network of canals, touring the local De Halve Mann brewery (where they make the delicious Brugse Zot), the Church of Our Lady, where they have the only Michaelangelo statue to leave Italy during the artist’s lifetime (there are now some in the Louvre), two homemade chocolate shops, a delicious waffle with strawberries and cream, and a variety of Belgian beers served at a pub built in 1515.

This morning, before I left town, I visited one more sight, which is also featured in “In Bruges,” the Basilica of the Holy Blood. Here, they have a relic which is said to contain some of Jesus Christ’s blood. Not wine that they pretend is his blood - the real stuff. Normally they keep this relic in the treasury upstairs, where you can pay to go see it locked up in a display case across the room. But By pure luck on my part, it just so happens that they take it out on Friday mornings and let people TOUCH IT! They made this announcement (in several languages) just after I came in, but no one was going up to touch it. So I went first. Now I’m not a religious person, but it was a fairly incredible experience to lay hands on a vial that just might contain Jesus’ blood, in a basilica built in the Middle Ages specifically to house it.

Belgium is also well-known for it’s mussels and fries. Hence, the photo of my dinner below.

I’m a bit worn out from all the running around, so I think I’m going to take a break from trying to see everything and just relax a bit at my next destination: Amsterdam.

Update: here are some photos from this part of my trip:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/therealmiked/sets/72157608744270429/

So, I’m pretty much at the halfway point of my vacation. I have seen a lot of amazing things and walked many miles to see them. Even in good, comfortable shoes, my dogs would be barkin’ at this point. However, the one pair of shoes that I brought with me to Europe, the waterproof ones that were stylish enough for most any occasion, which I purchased explicitly for this trip, could be called many things, but comfortable is not one of them.

After a week in Europe, I have a bruise on the top of my left foot where the shoe’s seem has been digging into it like a clamp. The other foot has a blister on the little toe about as big as the toe itself. If you’ve ever read Steve Martin’s short story, “Cruel Shoes,” you’ve got the idea. I bought some gel pads in Paris, but they were no match for my Ecco Track IV Hydromax instruments of torture.

There comes a time when you have to make adjustments to your game plan, or you may soon find yourself in a no-win situation. For me, that time was Wednesday morning, October 22nd. My new Parisian friend, Anne-Cecile, directed me to the Vieux Campeur (sort of a French REI), where I purchased a comfy new pair of Columbia Sportswear walking shoes. They may not look so nice at a restaurant, but screw it - comfort is the absolute top priority. The tops of these shoes feel like my feet are tucked under a snuggly down comforter.

Of course, the bottoms of my feet still hurt after a day’s trecking around, but I think that is just normal pain - not the cruel and unusual pain I was subjected to before.

If you’re wondering what I did with the old shoes, I left them on the sidewalk in Paris in case some nice homeless person who hates their feet wants them. Maybe I should have attached a note of warning. Oh well. They’ll figure it out.

I am attaching pics of my vanquished foes and my new allies.