.de

2006-11-12T22:28:00.000+01:00

We're leaving this for history, or a return to Frankurt/Berlin. For more on us

2006-09-01T19:42:00.000+02:00

Real-time News Update

Icelandic Air Flight 631 from Reykjavik to Boston is delayed an estimated 2 hours. While we celebrate the free wireless network, this man is incessantly complaining at the counter:

He must have left his hardware at home.

2006-08-31T23:58:00.000+02:00

We've just now crossed September and are flying back to the MA in the afternoon. Aside from the Schwarzwald venture, August was a cloudy month and we need a few days to sleep it off. The apartment's clean and we're all packed.

We're leaving Germany and we'll miss it. D's been to a few of these so-called European countries, and I made it to 5 while I was here, but I have to say I was most impressed by this place. Of course, I had the chance to live here and get to know the people. Nonetheless, here's a 11 point list of what we already long for without one step back Stateside yet:

11: Hauptbahnhof as the central operating structure of us-without-cars

10: Apfelsaftschorle, as in the drink we'll experiment with and start selling to the Davis Co-Op.

09: Proper beer with the proper drinking techniques. These Germans can use almost anything to open a bottle (I swear I saw one harness and use a sparrow's beak), but when it comes to
consuming you gotta run the etiquette right.

08: Pedestrian Friendly gegen Street vs. Sidewalk. All these pedestrian only zones around the Old City and shopping districts are great, and the old excite-o-meter jumps a notch when an occasional car comes meandering down a cobblestoned lane.

07: Feldrenner, DM. Here's to great athletes, fun people and reinforced arms!

06: Lebanese Food, its singing chef and Moussaka.

05: Students letting me know how they'll "become a car next week." Diesel or unleaded?

04: You have to realize that the best ice cream place in Mainz has this super grumpy woman working the scoop and you'd think that if you were in such a position as to give out so much joy (and joy is what I feel each time I walk away with a cone), you'd be really happy and proud but this woman really scowls so much that you think she hates Christmas, the cold, and just wishes that everyone were a bit more lactose intolerant so that they would just stop but woman, I will miss you!

03: Alles muss Raus! That one bookstore in Mainz that was always having a going-out-of-business sale just, it seems, to prove the point that man is always "going-out-of-business." How mortal.

02: The Mainzer Dom, especially in the early summer when the sunset lights him into a bright brick hue at 10:00pm. This central figure was the pivot point of our directionless darts around town.

01: Our friends here, from co-workers to teammates to singing Lebanese chefs and grumpy ice cream ladies (I miss you!). Everyone was and still is great, and we can't wait to come back and meet again.

2006-08-22T15:22:00.000+02:00

And then:

And then:

As of Friday, it's been a little easier to type with two hands now that the doctors have given me a half-cast from the elbow down. And for those who aren't aware, I'll refer you to here in order to spare myself the little discomfort I still have. Basically, I laid out for a huck, kept my arms out in front while landing on my chest and then hit a rough spot in the grass with my left arm, causing it to be caught under my sliding body, dislocating my wrist and audibly and undoubtedly breaking a bone in my arm. 5 hours after the crack, I was on the operating table under the care of some great doctors and nurses who made my adventure as pleasant as possible.

Then came the most boring few days of my time here in Germany, the monotony broken only by some teammates who broke me out to watch us win the Finals. Other than that, I read about 5 books during my stay and will never go to another tournament without a deck of cards just in case. D was great, by the way, taking care of the insurance and making sure work knew I needed time off. If you know my parents, you should ask them about the ordeal, as they had an entirely different perspective on the timeline of events. The rest goes like this: 4 weeks from now and back in Northern California, I'll get this cast off, start physical therapy, take up Disc Golf, and plan a return to a Sacramento Ultimate field in late winter.

The last few weeks here have been filled with medical treatment (had to stay in Cologne for a week after the surgery) and work, with a short foray to the Black Forest which we'll up date you on in a coming-soon post. Otherwise, that's as much of a Nationals report as I'm able to share, and I can't wait to play with Mainz in the future--maybe again at Rimini, and we'll see about German Nationals another year.

2006-08-02T17:38:00.000+02:00

All of Europe, nevermind the US, has been sloshed with heat of late. Are we in Death Valley or is this the Amazon? Is it my trendy Euro super-diesel engine, or should I sweat through that protest of those polluting, American capitalist dogs across the Atlantic?

Ah, but no. We're in Deutschland, and there are more important problems brewing in this weather.

2006-07-30T22:23:00.000+02:00

Just as we're heading into the homestretch, here at Dotde, new neighbors arrive next door! And boy are they friendly--they come by on a regular basis, have no compunctions at interrupting us at anytime, they chatter non-stop, and they rudely try all of our food and drinks. I tell you, between living next to a beehive and suffering through the heat wave, I'm beginning to think that winter is the best season here in Deutschland.

2006-07-29T18:12:00.000+02:00

After the whirlwind visits from M and P, then K and D, and then the Klamkas, J! and I decided to take things easy for a bit, and stroll over to France to see what was going on there. M and the Colonel were doing some "work" in Paris at various prison-related archives, so they invited us to crash at their lovely 5th floor apartment for the weekend, which we happily did. J! had never been to Paris, I'd never been there during a season while the fountains were running, and M and the Colonel desperately needed a break from the dust and cramped handwriting of trial transcripts, so it worked out well for all of us. We spent most of Friday cruising around the major stops (the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame, St. Sulpice) , and then hung out on Saturday at the catacombs (twice), the Parisean sewers and the cemetary. Sunday was, of course, devoted entirely to Le Tour and the Champs Elysees.

J! may disagree with me on this one, but I'd have to go with the sewers and the cemetary as the highlights. First, they were easily the coolest places in Paris, apart from the freezer section of the local 2Go grocery store. The sewers, I admit, had a bit of a "musty" smell, but not nearly as bad as one might expect, given that there is an actual sewer (big surprise for me, at least) that runs through the "museum." Said sewer also comes with a few warning signs not to eat anything during the guided tour and to wash your hands upon exiting. Sage advice.

The Paris sewer system, as it turns out, is enormous. There are 1,312 miles of sewer pipes below Paris, an old pneumatic tube system (for carrying top secret messages), telecommunications pipes, and about 4 million rats. I was a little disappointed not to see a rat, actually. According to our tour guide, rats are very communal creatures and each pack of rats has a leader. If "water" starts seeping into a rat pack's group, the oldest rat in the group will drink as much of the water as possible, swelling up like a tiny rat balloon, thus allowing the younger rats to all escape. Personally, I have a hard time imagining this, but that may be in part because my own childhood pet rat (RIP) only swelled up once in her lifetime, and that had more to do with babies than flooding.

The history of the sewers, including how they cleaned them (think knee high boots), was all really interesting but I have to admit that the best part of the tour was the video reenactments at the end, in the gift shop. The Paris sewer system has a 24 hour crew that drives around and rescues objects from the primary and secondary sewers. So, if you drop your car keys down the street gratings (or, in the case of one sad woman, a pack of cigarettes with a "really important phone number written on it"), you need only to call the sewer hotline number and there's a 90% chance you'll get your belongings back. Of course, only Parisians know about this, so all those poor tourists whose passports and credit cards have found their way down the drain, are just out of luck.

The cemetary, while not quite as cool as the sewers, smelled considerably better and furnished no end of comments from the various members of our group (mostly consisting of "ohhhh, he's buried here?"). We visited Balzac, Delacroix, some poor guy we thought was Charlie Chaplin, Gertrude Stein, Imre Nagy, and several important French people whom I don't remember. My personal favorites were Oscar Wilde, Guillaume Apollinaire, and Heloise and Abelard. Just before closing, we were making a run for Baron Haussmann (after a detour to visit Jim, of course) when we got caught by the security guards and were forced to leave.

On Sunday, we avoided the touristy spots and headed straight for the Champs Elysees, to set up camp for the afternoon next to the barricades. We were later joined by S&S, with delightful J and A in tow and made a day of it trading places at the barricade so that we could all watch Le Tour cruise by. The race was great and even better was the victory lap, although I was disappointed not to see ALG not pop a wheelie. Landis looked happy as he rode by, but that was before his drug test results were revealed. Despite the sour beginning and ending to this year's Le Tour, I still had loads of fun watching it. I can only hope they clean up the sport for next year's race.

M and I at the Louvre. Awwww!

J!--blind hunchback from Notre Dame or little known dance member of Dieter's Sprockets?

Lunch with the Eiffel Tower.

As though we could possibly avoid using the bathrooms while in the Paris sewers. My final opinion--great water pressure, could use some cleaning.

The Colonel gets a drink from one of the free, clean water fountains in Paris.

The "Rose Line" in St. Sulpice. The church had notices posted explaining that despite the assertions of a "recent bestselling novel," this particular meridian line has nothing whatsoever to do with pagan cults, goddess worship, or the Priory of Sion.

A bulletin board in St. Sulpice, refuting claims made in The DaVinci Code.

Some prime real estate next to Georges Perec, in the Crematorium.

Oscar Wilde's grave--although clearly beloved (hence the lipstick kisses all over the stonework), the grave also has a small sign asking visitors not to desecrate the monument. Sadly, some guests obviously cannot read. Legend has it that the angel's tender bits have been knocked off several times by angry mourners, and that the cemetary curator uses them as paperweights.

J! and cycling legend Richard Virenque (the dark-haired man in the white shirt, seen in profile).

The Champs Elysees, just before the race.

The maillot jaune!

Lap 1 (I think).

2006-07-15T15:16:00.000+02:00

And back to our between Beziers Mediterranee and Montelimar. Admittedly, this is our first post about an exciting and scandalous Tour de France. However, we are still here, and we were also there with K & D when the riders departed from and returned to Strasbourg during Stage 1 of the Tour. You'll see, on the left, some actual photo-journalism on Dotde, as we gave full camera capabilities to our editorial assistant Uwe, willing to risk arrest for the most exciting shots of this year's Tour.

So. Let's do make some live-updates while the peleton's letting the break-away break 20 minutes away from the pack.

Discovery's eldest Ekimov just stopped on an overpass and relieved himself on the traffic passing beneath, another notch on the surly scale that I first noticed after he snot-rocketed upon Simeoni after Armstrong's infamous chasedown in the 2004 ride. And while Lance's absence was quite predictable, Ullrich and Basso's missing goes to show that there are those still around of the character that our Patron now laughably spoke of as he said, "To all the cynics, I'm sorry for you. I'm sorry you can't believe in miracles. This is a great sporting event and hard work wins it." Vive le Tour forever." Whether those cynics are the hungry riders themselves will be ruled by committees and courts in the next few months. Our general editorial opinion states there are too many official doping and cycling bodies to rule in a justifiable, agreeable, and resolvable manner. And that it's also pretty beat that Vino can't ride.

Either way, we're being provided with one of the most exciting and unpredictable Tours in the past six years. Phonak's Floyd is hip atop our GC, and you should absolutely listen to Dave Z.'s take on Stage 9. Disco's almost out of contention, and CSC can't quite keep up the blood-oxygen levels they were able to manage in the Giro. Telekom's exceeding expectations without Captain Jan, and with 4 riders high in the GC they might have the best opportunity to confuse those defending yellow with a team attack. Tuesday brings L'Alpe D'Huez, and Wednesday may be the most difficult day in the saddle with two HC climbs. So keep your eye on yellow, and keep on clapping until you see red spots:

Here's to you, Laurent Jalabert

D, Uwe, and myself will be in Paris to celebrate yellow, and hopefully Stu O'Grady can drop back a bit more as this sprinter's, as of now, only 29 minutes in front of La Lantern Rouge.

As for today, Oscar Pereiro, Sylvain Chavanel, Andriy Grivko, Jens Voigt, and Manuel Quinziato are 25 minutes in front, and Phonak's just about to quicken the pace. So enough of this stuff for now, and we'll be sure to sign on in the Alps. Otherwise, we're divided here at HQ on whether or not the break will be swallowed. We're approaching two category 4 climbs. D takes Voigt or Quinziato. I think we'll get a challenge to Phonak, thus sparking the pack.

2006-07-15T14:41:00.000+02:00

A lazy day in Mombach, between Beziers Mediterranee and Montelimar, gives us time to address recent and ongoing events in Germany and abroad. First and namely, the Klamkas made quite an entry into D-land and were forced to evacuate sooner than planned, nonetheless providing a great experience for D and I, and hopefully themselves. Highlights include the Rheinfels Castle in St. Goar (which tops Heidelberg on any given day, potential tourists). Allowed to wander in and out of rooms with no supervision whatsoever, there's an air of adventure about the place. A hat trick of M entering and emerging from various passageways gives you a whiff of what may be in store, if you choose to visit:

And part of the castle, itself:

Group Picture, after a team-time trial climb against the train schedule (note A sitting out this year's Tour de France after a crash with a bus in the Rund den Mombacher Steig):

Navigational dials for the next family trip may be pointed towards Alaska, though the state may lack the scaffolding to maintain the interest of these keen tourists. The general lack, however, of American public transporation may provide for a safer journey.

2006-07-13T21:53:00.000+02:00

Ahhh, the World Cup. If you are checking dotde for the final results of that wee tournament, we feel obliged to inform you that your ignorance forces us to ask the following question: Where on earth do you live?? In recognition that the answer is fairly obvious (let's face it--the U. S. of A.), the following is for those viewers who were originally excited about the WM but lost interest after the US managed to score only a single goal in three games (not counting the one that Italy defender Cristian Zaccardo knocked into his own goal on our behalf).

Reasons Why I Loved the Weltmeisterschaft This Year, And Germany's Team In Particular:

6. Beer Gardens and Enormous TVs. Germany was more than prepared for the entire world to descend for three weeks and, even better, the country knew that about half of the world would consist of college students on tight budgets (recent delightful visitors to dotde Keith and Derek--we're looking at you). Hence, the enormous tv screens erected all over every town in Germany where anyone could watch the game for free. And you could bring your own beer. What could be better, you ask? Putting one of those screens in the Main river, of course. Too bad for fans that some river cruise captain got a little rudder happy and clipped the giant screen just days before the final match. It isn't for nothing, however, that Germans are the best engineers in the world--the screen was repaired and working again by the time Brazil lost to Portugal.

5. Jens Lehmann vs. Oliver Kahn. Oliver Kahn is no saint--he scandalized Germany when he left his wife Simone during her eighth month of pregnancy with their second son. But, the man is classy enough on the pitch. Despite being replaced in April by an introverted Jens Lehmann, Kahn spent the WM on the bench, congratulating just about everyone (including Lehmann, after the shoot-out against Argentina) and grinning for the fans. For his final game, Kahn took over as keeper for the match against Portugal and as captain he steered the team to a 3-1 victory.

4. Philipp Lahm. Really, who couldn't say lovely things about Philipp Lahm? Lahm initially stood out, for me at least, because even in the baking hot sun, the man still played for 90 minutes in long sleeved shirts. I couldn't figure it out--superstitious? Modesty? Fear of skin cancer? It all became clear during the quarter finals, though--the defender played the entire WM with a injured elbow and had to tape his arm for most of the games. Lahm was easily one of the most fun players to watch on any of the teams; he has a special knack for running up the field, crossing into the middle and scoring--a bit uncommon for defenders.

3. Patriotism. Germany has an odd relationship with patriotism. Up until a month ago, visible patriotism was linked to the far right--it was avoided, shunned and looked down on. National flags were scarce and demonstrations of love for one's country were even more rare. You would've been hard pressed to know it, though, during WM. Flags adorned just about everything--not such an oddity for most Americans, and yet absolutely startling for the average German.

2. Juergen Klinsmann. The German blondie caught criticism early on after he took over as coach for the German National Team. After all, the man left his homeland to live in Southern California! He had an 11 hour commute to work!! To add insult to injury, he insisted on putting a whole group of young cubs on the roster and then, throwing salt in the wound, he famously declared that legendary Oliver Kahn--Germany's beloved keeper--would be replaced by testy Jens Lehmann. Despite all of this, however, Klinsmann was far and away my favorite coach. The man has a way of making you forget that he was leading the charge for Germany's economic recovery and rehabilitation within the international community. How did he manage this feat? Primarily by being happy. After every goal scored by his boys, the man didn't simply clap or smile for the cameras. Instead, he would hold is own personal, utterly unconstrained celebration and then grab the person nearest to him and give the guy a bear hug. Poor assistant coach Joachim Loew probably ended the WM with about three cracked ribs.

1. The Fans. Perhaps my favorite moment of the Weltmeisterschaft 2006 came during the last game. At center-field, somewhere up in the stands, a group of fans had brought with them an enormous sign that was repeatedly visible in the video feed. It read:

"Thank you for being our guests."

2006-06-16T20:56:00.000+02:00

Even with all the excitement of travelling to Greece, visiting some wonderful friends and seeing the sun again, J! and I have not forgotten easily the most important event in years for Germany, namely the Weltmeisterschaft! Despite being in Greece for the opening weekend, J! and I still managed to see three games while enjoying, of course, a sampling of some excellent Greek beers. Greece, not having a team in the WM this year isn't quite as frenzied as Deutschland, but we still managed to find quite a few fans who were amused that we were rooting for Germany rather than the US. Not that we're forsaking our homeland, but how cool would it be if Germany wins while we're living here??

The highlights so far have been Germany vs. Poland, in which German striker Oliver Neuville squeeked out a 1:0 win in the last minute of play and The Netherlands vs Ivory Coast, in which the Ivory Coast coach Henri Michel pulled off the lining on the bench in frustration (2:1, The Netherlands). Of special interest for Germany was the Mexico vs. Iran game (3:1). Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad caused a bit of nervousness among German officials by suggesting that if Iran did well he would personally pay a visit to the team to lend his support. Mahmoud Ahmadinejad is well known for having publically doubted the Holocaust, which is a crime in Germany. Germany attempted to difuse the situation by declaring Ahmadinejad would be treated as a guest, but there was undoubtably a supressed sigh of relief among German politicians and World Cup officials when Iran lost to Mexico. Racism and football seem to go hand in hand and this is no different at World Cup, where far right neo-Nazis have already emerged to protest against Israel. In response to such demonstrations and to an upsurge in racist acts at soccer stadiums (particularly against black players), FIFA has made the fight against racism a visible point in the games so far, using, for example, "Say No To Racism" as a slogan on the field before the matches.

The Weltmeisterschaft has not only provided J! and I so far with endless entertainment every afternoon from 3 o'clock on, but has made us into local celebrities! After returning from Greece, we watched Germany vs. Poland at our local bar, Mombacher Treff. While settling into our bar stools to enjoy the first half of the game, the couple next to us leaned over to ask if we were rooting for Germany. We grinned and responded that we were, at which point they approvingly nodded their heads and asked where we were from. When told that we lived up the street, our (as it turns out) neighbor became very excited and replied that the bartender had mentioned to everyone that the two local Americans might come to watch one of the games. Success!! We have now gained the undying respect from one of the seediest bars in our neighborhood.

2006-06-15T17:19:00.000+02:00

Ahhh, Greece! Home to a plethora of photographic monuments, the infamous cucumber and tomato salad and more marble than even Martha Stewart knows what to do with. Really, though, what could be better than jetting down to Athens to spend a week with old friends among ancient splendor and many, many headless statues? As it turns out, not much.

Embarrassingly, it readily became apparent that J! and I actually know very little about Greece, modern or ancient. We arrived at one in the morning and were greeted by Iosefina and Gabriel at the airport. On the car trip back to their apartment they inquired about what sights we were interested in tackling first. J! and I exchanged glances in the back seat. Having just bought a guide book the day before we had more or less no idea what to do with our week in Greece's capital city. Fortunately for us, our friends were able to direct us to all the best spots in the surrounding area.

Sounion: Cape Sounion is home to what's left of a huge temple dedicated to Poseidon. There's also the remains of a smaller temple for Athena, but we spent most of our time contemplating the view and taking silly photographs. Sounion is gorgeous. The temple sits on a high hill facing the Agean Sea and it is proof positive that the ancient Greeks, along with philosophy and political science, were pioneers in coastal real estate development.

Hydra: This island is about an hour and half by boat outside of Athens. The island itself is quite large but due to lack of water only a small bay is inhabited. Because the village is built onto relatively steeply sloped hills, there are no cars on Hydra. Instead, locals get around via donkeys and their own two feet. Hydra's entire economy seems to subsist on donkey rentals and the selling of sunscreen at exorbitant rates to sunburnt tourists. The charm of the place has made this a popular island get away among Greek literati, so it was the perfect place for two literature aficionados like me and J!.

Epidaurus: Epidaurus as a town doesn't really exist--instead, the place is home to a collection of ancient ruins that once formed a major healing center. Unless you are an archeologist, though, the big draw of Epidaurus is not the Sanctuary of Asklepios. Instead, tourists go by the busload to climb all over the Theater of Dionysus. The Theater is one the largest in Greece and can hold about 12,000 spectators. Despite the size, though, the acoustics are almost perfect, as tour guides are eager to point out repeatedly. While we wandered around three different guides dropped coins and keys on the cement disc at the center of the stage. Incredibly, even while standing at the top of the theater you can still hear the coin hit the cement.

Nafplio: This beautiful coastal town was the original capital of Greece. They switched, however, because the Acropolis was a more impressive tourist attraction than the Palamidi Fortress. The fortress drapes gracefully down the side of the large hill above the town and offers great vistas of the bay and the Bourtzi (the small fort in the middle of the bay). Nafplio is one of those towns where the whole point is to simply hang out with friends, relax along the boardwalk with some tasty drinks and then go shopping in the downtown district.

Temple of Zeus. The fallen pillar was knocked down in 1852 by wind during a bad storm.

J! at the Tower of the Winds in the Roman Agora.

The real reason ancient and modern tourists visit the Stoa in the Agora--the free bathrooms and drinking fountains.

The stunning Acropolis.

A car some student protestors burned. We accidentally got pepper sprayed later.

Thanassis, Gabriel, Iosefina and Kristos serenade us with some traditional Greek songs.

The Temple of Poseidon at Sounion.

The view from the Temple.

The thing about Greece--you don't really want to touch anything that looks old, since for all you know you're wiping your sunscreened hands all over an important cultural artifact. Iosefina and Gabriel had no such qualms. They're allowed to sit on a capital of a fallen column, though, 'cause they're locals.

Hydra locals load a motor onto a donkey. I don't think the irony was lost on them.

Beautiful Hydra.

Me, standing in the middle of a "road" in Hydra.

J!, listening for the coin drop at the Theater of Dionysus.

The Bourtzi

Palamidi Fortress

2006-06-13T00:17:00.000+02:00

D attempts to sink a ship cruising off the coast of Hydra.

J prepares his attack on the Acropolis.

Yes, we're back in Germany... but what happened in Greece? Did these events work out as planned?

Updates coming soon.

2006-06-04T11:51:00.000+02:00

Admittedly, we're not the greatest soccer fans here at Dotde, though this has more to do with a sheer American ignorance (regarding football) than with any best sport worst sport least boring sport least exciting sport in the world qualifications. After watching a few Mainzer 05 games and the Champion League finals, we're getting to know a few of the characters, and just seeing the game played at such high levels has helped us come around.

So as next Friday's 3:00 (EST) initiates the first installment of the 2006 FIFA World Cup, our attention will be rapt on Munich's opening game: Deutschland-Costa Rica. Ironically, D and I won't be in Germany for the party, as we're leaving for a week in Greece a couple of hours from now. Nonetheless, in a contemporary re-enactment of Prometheun defiance to attain life's necessities*, we'll try to steal satellite TV access from the Greek gods in order to watch our interim-country take on the Costa Ricans in a game that's sure to begin with pomp and ceremony and ignite the Germans into rousing sing-a-longs.

And if this is the first you've read of the coming tournament, perhaps you need to look around for a better news source. Germany is abuzz with advertisements (even for wrinkle cream!: Look alive while you watch your team!), special deals, and venues to watch the proceedings as they proceed. I don't think there's a bar in Mainz that's not showing the game, and I can't wait to watch the gimmicks appear as owners realize that it's not that special to turn on the TV. Are we talking beer discounts? Half-price appetizers? We here will feast.

That said, if you're coming to Mainz in the next few weeks, drop by Domplatz (you can't miss seeing the Dom in Mainz, you can't miss seeing Domplatz) to watch the game on the big screen that'll be stationed there most the month. Also check out some of the favorite eateries, such as Pomp, Eisgrub, and Mombacher Treff, as they set up mini-projectors and serve tasty treats. If you'll be in Frankfurt, drop by the Main River and watch a game on a floating screen. Wherever you are, try the Pils, yes, but also try the Hefeweizen because we endorse it more (and by "endorse," I mean "drink"). And if you need a little more education about the contenders strutting the fields, check out this analysis in the New York Times: If not Brazil, Who? For those actually making the trip here to watch a game, NYT's city guide for match hosts will provide a brief introduction, starting with Berlin.

And to make it even better, my family will be out for the final match in Berlin. Of course, we'll be staying around Mainz, but the entire Klamka collective will be in attendance to watch the U.S. perform an upset. So if you're looking for a prediction, that's my advice: pull for your country (but please enjoy watching Brazil).

*you try to bridge the humorless gap between our visit in Greece and the start of the World Cup.

2006-05-26T20:14:00.000+02:00

Interesting article on the German sense of humor by The Guardian.

2006-05-20T23:15:00.000+02:00

Buddy Struble, eat your heart out. After wandering from Mainz to Frankfurt to Mainz-along-the-Rhine with poeT who's staying with us for a few days while on his 2+ month tour of Europe, we heard some Green Day playing in the near and thought to investigate this abnormality in the strain of classic rock in the German roll.

So rev that reading engine 'cause what we cobble-stumbled on was the oh-man-I've-got-a-buzz-on-and-can't-ride-my-chopper-home portion of a day long Harley rally on the banks of our fair river. Leather was king in Mainz tonight, folks, wafting from booth to booth to check out bikes, bandannas, and beers.

I, for one, always have my rally cap on, as did D and T tonight to boot. We stuck around to make some memories by the main stage where a promising upstart from Dusseldorf head-banged like any serious biker should: missing helmet and regard for the laws of harmony:

Great thing most Mainzers there had their chaps prepared as this group, as you see, made the crowd move in ways that would make any ordinary attendee limp away with roadburn. But I'm not claiming they crashed. They had the chemistry to make any mild-mannered English instructor light fire to their passport, shape their paper-grading hand into the devil's horns, and start a life of flossing for bugs at the end of a night's long ride.

The only part that brought me back to a leatherless reality was the thought that I really don't sport the shoes to make it work just yet. D, however, is on the balcony listening to the lure of the Autobahn (she says it means "freedom" in German). T is at the moment lengthening his beard.

2006-05-17T21:47:00.000+02:00

I really enjoy living in Germany . . . the beer, the pretzels, the national health care system. It is well known, however, that expatriats often experience a variety of reactions to living in a foregin country. There are days (weeks, months) where everything is great--the weather is perfect, the castles are romantic and the strudel couldn't be better.

And then there are the days when you discover your landlady keeps one of these in her basement:

Just for seasonal yardwork, of course . . .

2006-05-14T09:28:00.000+02:00

Yes, yes... abusing the right to brand dogs as emotional support animals can't be good practice. But after being here in D-land for eight months and bearing witness to the accepted citizenship of animals in a variety of settings, I just have to wonder what's the big problem with brunching with the pup, riding the bus with a hound, or shopping with your mastiff for matching sweaters.

Case in point: while reading in a local cafe with D, two new customers stroll in with a baby-bearish dog, off leash and obedient. They sit, order a drink, and nibble at the buffet offerings. It just kind of hangs out, lapping at the cafe sponsored bowl of water the waiter set out for the colossus canine.

So?

2006-05-14T09:27:00.000+02:00

Alles Gute zum Muttertag!

2006-05-05T09:27:00.000+02:00

Spring has finally arrived here in Mainz (for good, we hope) and with temperatures quickly rising into the upper 20s and 30s (that's about 75-85 degrees F, for those of you without handy converters in your head) it seems that spring is about to skip right on into summer. Which means . . . the pro cycling season, of course!! As J! and I are typically residents of a country where professional cycling is not, shall we say, regularly aired on the nightly news, we decided we needed to practice up a bit at being professional cycling events attendees. This requires, at the very least, the following:

1. infinite patience
2. at least one camera, to snap candid (=blurry) shots of riders we don't actually recognize as they go by
3. beer (this one we've got covered. Also useful for when you run out of #1.)

Although there are a number of good races going on right now (with the Giro in Italy approaching quickly), we decided to start locally with the "Rund um den Henninger Turm" [Round the Henninger Tower]. This is a great day race that combines some wonderful German traditions, namely castles, cycling and beer. It begins in Frankfurt, then travels out to some of the smaller towns in the countryside before returning to Frankfurt and looping around the Henninger Tower three times. The Henninger Tower is notable for being possibly the ugliest tower in Frankfurt, but it makes up for that by belonging to the Henninger brewery. A Kaiser Pilsner for the first person to guess who the big sponser of this race is!

Rather than watch the end of the race in Frankfurt (as we were going to a barbecue with friends about the same time as the cyclists would be finishing their third loop), J! and I opted to see the race from one of the smaller towns, Eppstein. This is a beautiful little German "village," with a lovely ruined castle that sits above the Altstadt, complete with a mountain stream, a white church, and (of course) half-timbered houses. We arrived, followed basically the entire town first to the local beer garden and then wandered up a large hill for the first mountain points (where the climbers race to cross a stage finish to compete for the "best climber" category). We picked out a nice spot where we could see the racers coming from the bottom of the hill, and then proceeded to cheer on several of the amateur riders who were also racing that day (the amateur riders, depending on their class, completed parts of the race. These riders often race for a specific club team, and unlike the pros they carried all their own food, water, etc.) The professional peloton eventually arrived, looking as though the whole thing were just a walk in the park, and then zipped by to get to the mountain finish. After them, naturally, followed the one million cars carrying extra parts, food, and various girlfriends.

So, our tally for the day of racing:

- trains: 5
- buses: 6
- ruined castle: 1
- purchased train/bus tickets: 5
- purchased (but unused) train/bus tickets: 2
- pieces of pizza: 3
- pictures taken: 17
- total traveling time: 6 hours and 43 minutes
- total time spent watching the race: 30 seconds

Given that Eppstein is really only about 40 mintues away from Mainz, we didn't do terribly well on the traveling front. But, in defense of DeutscheBahn (read "our poor planning"), May 1st was a holiday so the trains were not running as often as usual. As a result, at least four hours of the six was just sitting around, waiting for trains to show up and then missing them.

And for those of you who are interested, Italian rider Stefano Garzelli for Liquigas won the race.

Flowers!! And the Eppstein Church in the background. (Also, J!.)

The Eppstein Castle (or more accurately, what's left of it)

the breakaway

second breakaway . . . kind of

and everybody else

And this is what they were all headed for.
Eppstein--great place to visit, but not yet a hydraulic world power.

And of course, the caravan.

2006-04-30T15:45:00.000+02:00

So 10 games in 4 days did wonders for Joe's physique but sitting on the beach watching 10 games in 4 days didn't do much for me except give me a great tan. This works to my advantage, though, since classes have started again here at Johannes Gutenberg Uni--my students are cowed into submission by my impressive array of freckles, jealous that they were stuck here in chilly Mainz for their six weeks off. Ha!

2006-04-28T13:23:00.000+02:00

Here's to chasing D through Venice after a conversation the night before with a traveling Canadian who couldn't quite grasp the layout of the city and became a little bored hanging with the pigeons in St. Mark's Square, thus making me happy to follow D's expertise. If you asked me to take you there now, I would still be undoubtedly lost. Which, I think, is a great way to know a city. And no, we did not ride in a gondola. I did, however, wink at every gondoleer I saw, as if to say, "I know what's going on here" or "we'll hang out later at the bar to tell funny stories about the tourists in this place." In reality, I was quite busy keeping track of D's zip through the alleys to know what was going on at all.

Most impressive were all these hidden paths and small streets along with little courtyards gated off with full gardens one could barely see. The canals made it interesting, sure, but judging by the ease illegal street vendors were able to out run the police, this seemed like a great place to keep a secret.

"Make Venice your travel destination: the one place in Italy where you can't be killed by a scooter."

So 10 games on sand in four days really works you in shape, and I'm almost back into the condition I had at the Zoo. Our 10 man team finished 7th out of 48, having had a great time in Rimini despite some poor team performances in important games. And even though I won't be in D-land next year, I hope to make it out to play with them at Paganello again. It was one of the most organized tournaments I've been to, with daily newsletters, nightly parties, and a slew of sponsors offering free and/or discounted services throughout the weekend. All this running smoothly for the 1500+ players in attendance...

We saw Bologna on our first night in Italy and our last day before getting back on our plane to Frankfurt. It was election day when we arrived, and we hung out in the main courtyard that night as left-wing supporters gathered around a radio, waiting for the results. Gathered around the supporters were about twenty members of the police, completely prepared for trouble with their paddy wagon. Much to D's disappointment, however, nothing happened on a night with no real political resolution anyway, and we rode the bus back to our hotel.

Our second stint in was as uneventful, walking away hours before our flight back to Frankfurt. After the tournament, there were a ton of ultimate players waiting out flight times in Bologna (that person standing to the left of me is about to catch a disc), including most of my team. We used the occasion to get a few final tastes of Italian ice and cappacinos, and also climbed the 452 steps of the Torre degli Asinelli for a hazy view of our surroundings. As if our legs had had enough on the beach...

So we're back in the M-bach these days, still reeling from overindulgence in the food. Not much on the travel calendar these days except for a couple quick May events in Frankfurt and Rotterdam. Look for reports on German spring in the coming weeks on Dotde.

2006-04-09T21:45:00.000+02:00

Happy Mainzer German-American Friendship Day!

Boy, what treats were laid out all over the center of Mainz today as Germans and Americans gathered together to celebrate our mutual relationship. This special holiday, rumored to be a PR smoothing response to the virtual lockdown suffered in Mainz when GWB himself came to visiting in 2005, displays the best qualities of our relationship with each other. From our perspective spending the afternoon hours walking through Mainz, here are the top 7 reasons why Germans and Americans have continued to buddy up over the years:

7) Balloons. They were all over Mainz today. And I'm not talking about hottish air-filled ones that offer rides and land on farms touting bottles of wine, I mean the classic child-don't-let-me-go-cause-I'll-look-super-sad-floating-away-from-you-in-the-sky sort of balloon. Bulbously inflated rubber...very popular today in commemoration of friends.

6) Beer. Yet again, the beer carts were set up again schlogging out brew to the masses. Man, after a straight hour hanging out by one of these, I couldn't tell who was American and who was German. I even thought I was in Boston for a while.

5) Processed meats. People here are usually pretty conscientious of their schnitzel wielding, but for some reason if you throw a hot dog into the grips of a Mainzer local, you set yourself up to be, upon walking collision, slothered with ketchup and bun. Perhaps it was the city-wide fervor towards the ideals of friendship, but you had to be careful out there on the streets today. Hot Dog Stands EVERYWHERE.

4) Signs proclaiming our bond. These witty graffiti artists and poster-makers have developed the eye-catching "F! Bush!" as a shortened version of the popular slogan, "Friend! Bush!"

3) Cars. Dealers' wares were parked all around the Altstadt, including German, American, and French manufacturers. Perhaps the most interesting were the Hollywood Cars, which allowed us to see our first stretch limo since arriving to D-land. If you need a US-Police Car or a NYC Taxi to take you to your international school's prom, well, this is the place.

2) Military Demonstrations: The local Air Force Base's choral group was on stage in the central courtyard, belting out such hits as Thriller and Shout. They were, actually, fun to watch. The area around the Dom was packed with people singing along. The Chorus was even cheered out for an encore. After that, the local Mainzer breakdancing crew spun out to some beats, accompanied by what appeared to be a group of American military officer's daughters-as-background-dancers. We clapped thunderously, if only for the looming scandal.

1) Okay, seriously. I have plenty of friends who are pretty special to me, and it's not like once a year I go up to one, throw them a hot dog, and sing the boogie woogie blues before telling 'em how much they mean to me. Gleason, how weird would that be? And it looks like the people of Mainz agree. Thousands of people were wandering around, merely excited to be allowed to shop! on a Sunday (Palm Sunday, nonetheless). Yes yes, if that's not representative of us heathens 'cross the Atlantic, what is? But for the most part, everyone was walking around with a look on their face as if to say, was machen wir hier?

Wir kaufen unsere Freunde, wir kaufen.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

In other news, D and I are flying off tomorrow to Italy for touring and sport. First, we visit (or re-visit) Venice, and then we're down to Rimini as I'm playing in my first Paga with the local German club team. We'll try our best to get online at some point and upload some pictures. If not, expect a full report after our return on the 18th.

2006-04-04T09:32:00.000+02:00

"We are counting down to Paris and Ullrich is not yet out of the running," Ullrich said, uncharacteristically referring to himself in the third person. 3 April 2006 Velonews Eurofile.

While the latest news of a recurring pain in Jan Ullrich's once-injured knee unsettles our potential plans to watch May's Giro as we lounge in the Italian Alps, Ullrich still maintains that Ullrich himself will be riding laps on the Champs-Élysées come July. A literary scholar might read his most recent remarks as showing an ethereal claim on Parisian victory--a consciousness stepping beyond the body to express assurance that Jan will indeed hold a place on the podium. But we here at Dotde are a little skeptical about this view: too many athletes tend to talk of themselves in the third person to make this unique. Too many of these athletes are also, well, crazy. With such stars like Casey Stengal and Ricky Henderson, once the media actually notices the habit it's usually a sign of physical or mental deterioration. Reporters stop caring about what someone says and start caring about how they say it when, it seems, there's nothing really to report. But we don't have pressures to just fill space here on Dotde, given our small but steady base of readers (miss you Mom and Dad!).

So despite the negative reports flying through the German press and the negative attitudes of most cycling fans I meet here in D-land, we're still dedicated in our support this magentic rider. Our humble weblog's opinion on Ullrich's bowing out of le Circuit de la Sarthe is that this maneuver is purely strategic. Three cycling juggernauts (and Tour favorites) are already showing that they're prepared to dominate the seventh month. American Floyd Landis of Phonak took the inaugural Tour of California and the 64th Paris Nice, Kazakh legend Alexander Vinokourov of Liberty Seguros-Wurth swiped the 21st Vuelta a Castilla y Leon, and Italian Ivan Basso of CSC eased his way onto the top podium spot of the Criterium International.

Sprinters Tom Boonen (Quick Step) and Stuart O'Grady (CSC) are also making noise, though it'd be miraculous if they ended in most-mattered yellow (green would be a pleasure for them). Ineligible Tyler Hamilton is even trying to get into the action with thwarted attempts to race a few on the sly. So with Armstrong gone, everyone's wanting to make some early season noise--noise that in had been quelled in past years by remarks such as "Yeah, have your fun now. But it's Lance in France."

Nonetheless, Ullrich's displaying a season-long strategic side that pairs his consummate (if not frightening) poker face on the bike. And this is one more reason why D and I will be holding magenta mimosas in Paris come July 23rd. Jan has a ace he can play all season (past premonition: remember Armstrong's rope-a-dope on 2001's L'Alpe d'Huez?) While every other big rider dances the "Look at Me!" jig, Jan's the only one saying "Ullrich will see you on the slopes."

2006-04-03T12:25:00.000+02:00

Since the changing weather also shifts Dotde's editorial slant to include increased feats of outdoor athleticism, we'd like to preview our evercoming spring and summer issues with the latest venture into Mombach out-of-doors. An idle Sunday, sans typical physical endeavours such as ultimate and paper grading, D and I hit the neighborhood streets with some major aggression to exude on the Table Tennis playing youths living in our area.

As Mombach contains the roughest of the Mainzer roughs, the most rugged of the roughest can be revealed on any given weekday lingering concrete waiting for a game, all the while spouting the jabber I won't learn in my German course but can only discover around the Tisch.

So, here are a few action shots from our day out fighting to keep our table from a kid named Uwe, who left the area with a couple plastic ball bruises and these two new English words: Oh and No. We're English teachers, aren't we? Next week, his vocabulary lesson includes "Have mercy!" and "Is there a God???" German speakers reading this now...can you tell me how to command "Say yer prayers, toad!"

"Willst du einen Paddeltattoo??" (Do you want a Paddle Tattoo?)

"Ich arbrauchte du" (I destroyed you OR I smoked you)

Finally, notice D's cackling:

"Es ist Bettzeit, Uwe!" (It's bedtime, Uwe!)

2006-03-31T19:14:00.000+02:00

One final update this week. J! finally bought a change purse. This is a bit of a necessity when using the Euro, since the 1 and 2 Euro are coins. Savvy shopper that he is, J! managed to find the least manly change purse in all of Mainz (but, he adds, "for the best price!" which is true). Watch out, J! Feisty elderly women will be making mad, jealous attempts to steal your change purse for themselves while you aren't looking!

The plaid really brings out the blue in his eyes.

2006-03-31T17:44:00.000+02:00

So, to celebrate my quarter century in style, J! arranged a wonderful day full of excellent Japanese food and a visit to the English Theater in Frankfurt. We had front row seats for the play "Blithe Spirit," which is something of a romantic comedy about a man whose second wife hosts a seance dinner party and the ghost of his first wife comes back to haunt him.

In other birthday news, I now have an 80s glam rock haircut. The conversation with the stylist went something like this:

Me: Hi, I'd like a haircut. Just a little bit shorter, please.
Him: Your hair is curly!
Me: Um . . .
Him: [Something incomprehensible in really fast German.]

Twenty minutes later he's snipping off alarmingly large chunks of my hair, gesturing dangerously with a pair of sharp scissors and trying to tell me something about an albino python that he saw in Turkey. Finally, after some vigorous blow drying, I was allowed to escape. J! laughed out loud when he saw me this morning, bouncing down the street to meet him with curls a mile high. They've calmed down a bit since then, so I won't post a photo for you. Instead, let me just say that I looked a little bit like this guy:

Also, I'm getting really good at guitar since I turned the big 25.

2006-03-30T20:00:00.000+02:00

A Happy 25th Birthday to the D of dotde!
Check out this action shot collage to see some of what she's done in the past year.

2006-03-28T22:52:00.000+02:00

More German News for You!

Three more pieces of evidence that the EU is slowly becoming the type of nation-state-conglomeration that the world hasn't seen since the Romans made togas a fashion statement and forced everyone to speak Latin with an Italian accent.

1. The EU driver's license.

Getting a license in Germany isn't easy. To begin with, you have to be 18, and you have to take a theory test and a driving test, you have to go to driving school and you have to pay about 1000 Euro. After that, you're all ready to cause your first accident on the Autobahn! No wonder so many young Germans prefer to spend some time abroad in a place like the US, where we'll give a driver's license to just about anyone. Soon (2012), however, the EU will be making EU driver's licenses mandatory for all EU citizens. German Fahrschulen [driving schools] are holding their breath about whether this means they can rip off only German citizens or everyone in the whole federation.

2. EU expatriates move because of love more than anything else.

Europeans in general, it turns out, don't move around a whole lot. Only 2 percent of the EU population elects to head out west (north, south, east) and strike a homestead (find a cheap apartment). According to a new study, 24 % of expats want better weather ("better quality of life"), 25% want more money ("a better job"), and 30% are following their spouse/significant other around ("love"). Not surprisingly, Italy and Spain top the list of most popular retiree destinations.

So, if you are a Finnish young man living in Laihia, battling the land-of-no-sun-at-all and frustrated with the overwhelming minginess of your neighbors . . . well, all you need to do is find a willing German lass, grab your newly issued EU license and drive yourself to gorgeous, sunnier Hesse, the state next door to dotde's very own Rheinland-Pfalz. In no time at all (8 years, down from 15) Mr. Finland can become a citizen of Germany.

As long as he passes Hesse's citizenship test.

In days gone by, some citizenship tests in the EU have become fairly controversial. The Netherlands, for example, recently made the news because its citizenship test includes a film with gay couples and topless women. Hesse, however, has taken a slightly different route. Instead of making sure would-be-immigrants are aware of state policies, the Hesse exam, quite simply, is Jeopardy auf Deutsch.

For example:

Which assembly met in 1848 in the Paulskirche in Frankfurt?

The "Grundsatz des freien Mandats" ("principle of the free mandate") applies to members of parliament. What does this mean?

and my personal favorite:

In one of his most famous paintings, the German painter Caspar David Friedrich depicted a landscape on the Baltic Sea island Rügen. Which motif does the picture show?

The exam has come under fire because critics claim most German citizens couldn't correctly answer many of the questions (except for the Caspar David Friedrich one, of course). Plus, not surprisingly, some of the queries target conservative Muslim populations in particular:

You hear that a woman is not allowed to go out in public or to travel without being accompanied by a close male relative. What is your opinion of this?

All this test is really lacking, in order to make this a truly German cultural experience, is Joerg Pilawa proctoring the exam.

For the original articles on the above topics, please go here, here and here. Translation of questions thanks to expatica.com.

2006-03-23T11:25:00.000+01:00

While baths, cafes, palaces, and churches appendage any European city that prides itself in luring foreign-currency-wielding-tourists-who-spend-most-their-trip-mentally-miscalculating-the-exchange-rate, our recent trip to Prague revealed an additionally bizarre limb extending from our tour of Euroquadrepeds: the monument to a socialist past that is Statue Park.

Sure, there's a tendency to topple any physical monument symbolic of past tyranny (note the yearly event at American universities). And despite this habit, angry mobs do fatigue and even the most revolutionary are a little weirded out by the abstract art that could replace stone figures in public squares. So since you can't break 'em all, Hungarian politicians and entrepreneur's came to a mutual, yet controversial, conclusion: gather all the stone leftovers from Hungary's membership in the Eastern bloc and let them stand together in some field 15 minutes outside the capital city.

Thus D and I found ourselves spending a Hungarian Sunday navigating a labyrinth of public transportation to visit this unique attraction. This involved leaving the city's thriving tourist district and venturing into some of the bleaker areas to find the bus that would take us directly to the park's gate. Advertised as leaving every 15 minutes, schedules do change because of road construction, and we were required to wait 90 minutes for a ride that wound through, basically, the industrial and rural ruins that surround Budapest (we did, I should add, pass the Curling Club of Greater Budapest on the way).

Upon arriving at Statue Park, our stares simultaneously darted back and forth between the handful of monuments corralled into an area half the size of a football field and the bus schedule proclaiming the next ride as arriving in either 10 minutes or 2 hours. Without hesitating in the cold Hungarian air, we decided to take the statues in at full speed to avoid standing around because, well, there wasn't even a ration stand in the near vicinity and it's not like these things perform tricks (at least in the winter). Here are two photographs from our collective red streak through the park:

D and Captain Steinmetz

Center: Liberation Monument complete with Tourist Action Scene. Right: Marx and Engels. Left: We're about to miss our bus!

All in all, Statue Park is an interesting place and one you may want to visit if you journey to Budapest. In our brief time there, we saw both fans of socialism and the historically conscious intermingling, reading guidebooks, and browsing through the small gift shop containing work song CDs, t-shirts, and watches. And yes yes, we may chuckle about our morning in a place that historicizes a difficult period in the 20th Century, but it's only because the area is wrought with the dramatic. From the massive front gate that never opens (you have to sneak around the side) to the self-guided tour that stops at a dead-end, you have to wonder about a museum that creates so many symbolic gestures in a move to subvert the past symbolism of socialist rule. The sheer size (in mass) of their collection is impressive, but the intended effect didn't really ring through.

If you go, the bus ride out of Budapest-proper may be interesting enough. Summer may also provide a better venue. Motivated by the weather to linger longer, visitor's should be able to view the grey statues in green surroundings all the while sipping a bottle of Leninade.

2006-03-21T14:04:00.000+01:00

Scene: J! and I exit pleasant Cafe Bonjour, directly across the street from St. Stephen's Basilica.
J: [pointing across the street] We need to cross the street to get back to our hostel, past that church.
Me: [nodding head]
J: [bragging] Ha! Do I know Prague or what?
Me: We're in Budapest.

One of the nice things about living in Mainz is that we're basically in the middle of Europe. Or, in the case of this weekend, a ten hour train trip away from the capital of Hungary. Budapest is an amazing place--for those of you who want to visit a former satellite of the USSR but don't want to be scared to death by burly looking border guards, try Hungary.

Budapest actually consists of two towns on opposite sides of the Danube River, Buda and Pest. To be honest, I couldn't keep them straight and kept having to check the map to figure out which city we were in. Both sides have their perks, though. The Buda side has the big palace, the Fisherman's Bastion, and Gellert Hill with the Liberation Monument. Pest, on the other hand, has got the casinos, St. Stephen's Basilica and the parliament building.

We spent most of Saturday doing the touristy stuff, my favorite being the Fisherman's Bastion (pics below). The Buda castle labyrinth, on the other hand, was a huge disappointment. The labyrinth are caves below Castle Hill (which notably lacks a castle these days) which were used variously, but most famously for war refugees. The caves were formed from thermal springs, and were eventually connected together. The whole area is sectioned off into five zones with rather odd exhibits. The "Pre-Historic Labyrinth," for example, has faux cave paintings in it. The "Labyrinth of the Future," has imprints of a "grave" in which a man was buried with his laptop. And there's also a section with a wine fountain.

Other highlights of the trip were a great Hungarian restaurant that served (surprisingly) one of the best vegetarian dishes I've had, and the Szechenyi Baths. Budapest is justifiably well known for its thermal mineral springs. The Szechenyi Baths aren't terribly luxurious, like the Gellert baths, and they don't have the cool Turkish domes, like the Rudas baths, but they are the hottest (72-74 degrees F) and deepest in Budapest. So warm, in fact, that people go to them year round, even though they are outside in the open air. Sorry, no photos of the baths--no cameras allowed, although this didn't seem to stop most of the tourists.

Castle Hill

Parliament Building and the Danube River

The Fisherman's Bastion

What do you call a Hungarian who walks to work?

A Budapedestrian!
(Matthias Church in the background)

Buda buffalo--now long extinct but once upon a time they were the scourge of the Hungarian countryside.

2006-03-14T21:20:00.000+01:00

J! and I often use this space to describe our adventures here in Deutschland, but I've realized over the past few weeks that we rarely discuss issues particular to Germany. In an effort to rectify that, I'll try occasionally to post German news items that don't make it across the Atlantic. It'll be great! You can impress your friends and non-dotde-readers with your incredible erudition and knowledge of obscure contemporary German events!

Two recent tidbits caught my eye that might be of interest to some of you . . . or not.

A Spanish artist named Santiago Sierra has touched a justifiably sensitive nerve by converting an old, retired synagogue into gas chamber in Pulheim, Germany. Sierra rigged the exhaust pipes from six cars to funnel carbon monoxide into the synagogue:

Visitors wearing breathing equipment were allowed inside the synogogue one at a time in the company of a fireman to spend a couple of minutes walking around the carbon-monoxide filled room.

Sierra has defended his art installation as bringing awareness to the ways in which the Holocaust is traditionally remembered, suggesting that Holocaust memorials in general are not shocking enough, and also to how we "perceive guilt." Critics argue that the installation addresses the victims more than it does the perpetrators.

This isn't Sierra's first controversial piece of art. Those interested can find more info here and here (the second link's in German).

On a brighter note, Germany is now considering 24 hour shopping! This will make Wal-Mart so happy!! For those who don't regularly catch up on the state of the German economy--things are bad. Germany is still recovering from unification between East and West, dealing with heavy burdens from their social system (national healthcare, social security, etc.), and unemployment is the heighest since 1933 (12.6% total, 10.4% in the west and 20.7% in the east). The election last fall, which brought Angela Merkel into power, was seen as potentially heralding in an era of massive economic and social reforms in Germany. Whether this will actually happen is uncertain still, but the expansion of store hours is at least one sign that German states are interested in deregulation. 10 of 16 German states are thinking about allowing stores to remain open for 24 hours (currently German stores must close by at least 8 pm on work days and cannot open on Sundays or major public holidays). Some states are talking about possibly letting stores alter their hours during World Cup and Mecklenburg-Vorpommern is even considering allowing stores to open for limited hours on Sunday! All other German states, however, probably won't be doing anything that drastic in the near future.

2006-03-13T19:55:00.000+01:00

Yes, we did enjoy our trip to the Frankfurt Botanical Gardens, and we look forward to returning in fairer weather. And while it was a satisfactory experience, there is still a much sinister aspect of these gardens that mandates investigation. Here are some fine pieces of photojournalism D wasn't willing to risk her Press Pass to publish:

Foreground: Daffodils. Background: Marijuana crop

Foreground: sticks and flowers. Background: Man and woman making a secret deal for that bag of "seed" (my apologies for the poor photograph-being discovered in such an environment may cost one one's life).

How easily a tourist germinates from perennial to annual. These two have already been exhibited in the gardens for three years and counting (note the colors of the man's sweater as totally 2003)...

2006-03-12T14:30:00.000+01:00

To celebrate (we hope) the coming of spring, J! and I traveled to far off Frankfurt this weekend and visited the beautiful Botanical Gardens there. Unfortunately, spring hadn't yet arrived to the park grounds. But inside, the greenhouses were steaming with exotic palms, orchids and even a few flowering cacti. Even better, we got there just in time to enjoy the second to last day of the "Schmetterlinge Flugshow" [Butterfly Show!]. The main exhibition hall also had a a gorgeous display of tulips and hyacinths--an incredible contrast to the wind, rain and clouds outside.

There weren't too many Schmetterlinge left, I have to say. J! even spotted a small butterfly carcass near one of the entrances but luckily I don't think any of the little kids around us noticed. Still, the remaining live butterflies were really beautiful. I've never been to a butterfly show before and I'd love to go when there are more of them. Most of the butterflies didn't actually move too much, which surprised me. I figured they'd be flitting around all over the place, but maybe old age was setting in. In fact, I only spotted one moving at all, and that one seemed to be picking a fight with one of the flourescent lightbulbs near the ceiling.

In other dotde news, J! and I are heading out to Budapest on Friday! I've never been before and I'm quite excited about it. Turkish baths and massages all weekend long! And probably some "cultural" stuff, too.

J!, excited about the banana tree behind him. It even had wee bananas on it!

So pretty!

Someday I'll have a yard like this.

Tulips and daffodils!

And some . . . heads. Just in time for spring!

2006-03-09T08:51:00.000+01:00

Here in Mainz, a "temperate zone" in Deutschland, the winters are relatively mild--it snows, the snow looks pretty, it generally turns to slush as it hits the ground. Sometimes it sticks around for a day or so, hiding out in the shade behind the trash cans, but mostly it just melts immediately. This is really nice snow--I like it.

But I don't really like it in March.

Allow me to demonstrate:

Davis, CA

Mainz, Rheinland-Pfalz

Fortunately, a week's worth of snow is almost gone after two days of rain. They tell me it will get better by Easter. At least, that's what the Germans here say. Our lovely American pal, Je, let out that last year she was still wearing sweatpants in July. If anyone wants to mail us some sun here at dotde, we're happily accepting donations.

2006-03-05T21:21:00.000+01:00

A Happy Belated* Birthday to Nathan E. Milos, 20% of Cinco De Milos, coordinator of the Voorhies F(riend)-Bombs, and rapid completor of his Phd in English (nevermind that first book of poems). Shown here rocking out with a toaster oven, Nathan is both a friend and nemesis, as I look forward to heading back to Davis, California to regain my lead in our Major-League-Baseball-2006-for-Playstation-2 competitive series.

*our apologies, Milos, for not hitting this on the actual date. Just spent two nights sleeping in a gym somewhere in Northern Germany. My team soundly qualified for German National Indoors, if that's any consolation. Your present, by the way, will arrive a month or two late. But we here at Dotde promise satisfaction.

2006-02-27T15:58:00.000+01:00

As today's Rosenmontag, we made a morning trip to Mainz to view the various Fastnacht festivities occurring around the city. And by festivities, we mean the various locations you're able to purchase Pilsner and Weissbier while watching an 8-hour long parade. While D and I don't quite have the stamina to watch the parade for an entire day, we were able to capture (along with our friend Je) the spirit of Fastnacht in our five hour wander around the Altstadt. To avoid the classic this-then-that, here are ten items to consider when planning your celebration of a Mainzer Fastnacht:

10) The American soldiers who overhear you speaking "perfect American English" will want to talk and hang out. They'll seem a little lonely, but it's tough to believe when they admit that they've been drinking since Thursday's Mainzer Fastnacht start.

9) Don't try too hard with your costume, as this place doesn't get too competitive with dress. Notice Balloon-man, Black-Hat-man, and the Surgeon (picture, right) all hanging out as the parade goes by. This is as good as it gets, folks, and we're just out here to laugh at ourselves. Something colorful will do.

8) When will these costumed celebrations realize that they'd be so much better if we just held off 'til Spring? It's still seriously cold out there, and we're not sure how the short-skirted Viking (not depicted) can stand to stand and throw back liters of Pils while also taking the opportunity to flash his little conqueror at this poor American immigrant.

But of course, it's impossible to move the date as Fastnacht (or Karneval) precedes the start of Lent, occurring here in Mainz the week before so as to get all tomfoolery out of the system before the religious season of fasting and reflection. Germany's Rhineland gives a special twist to Karneval by using this time to mock politicians and authority, albeit primarily (picture, southwest, in costume) 19th Century politicians and authority. There's also much verbally subversive speech and song about politics beyond the anti-Prussian and anti-French sentiments it was founded on, though much of the contemporary stuff is relegated to speech, song, and undercutting-authority-through-public-drunkenness. So for next year, save the date.

7) Entertaining in itself is standing near the main train station just before the start of the parade (11:11 am), watching the tens of thousands of costumed rush from their intercity trains, down the escalators, and out onto the street in order to find the best possible place to view this Rosenmontagzug. Note the various party supplies, such as kids with kegs on wheels and musical carts tugged by the middle aged, proclaiming for them how they "Pump up the Jam." Much jam, I must say, was pumping.

6) Man, I just took a two hour nap between completing #7 and starting #6. Fastnacht really tuckers you out. How can these people party for five days straight? Lifelong Mainzers tell me they're only able to enjoy once every two or three years. So if this post is convincing you to make travel plans for the next three years, take the middle one off for the sake of your liver.

5) This event must be great if it's something you grew up with, but as outsiders it can be a gawking tramp around the various places and platzes in Mainz. Forget about for pointing out the numerous Indianed-, Arabed-, and Mexicaned-clothed personas walking the street, American-sissy points awarded for exclaiming, "Gee, there's a lot of broken glass around here" or "The Children's Parade on Friday was so much tamer!"

4) Here the unspoken law's that you shout out "Helau!" and someone hollas back the same. However, give an attention-deprived reveler three beers and a water bottle full of Lipton and vodka, and they'll repeat the word over and over until their throat goes dry (thus requiring more fluid-soothing). The younger generation also seems to use this phrase as a mating cry.

3) Boop Boop! Boop Boop! Fastnacht Paradox, Fastnacht Paradox! (hundreds of beer carts strewn throughout Mainz, almost no public lavatories. I was forced to shelter myself in a large evergreen near the river, D and Je to make a stop at Augustinerkeller for more beer and porcelain (picture, east). These two events were, of course, not simultaneous.)

2) Getting ready. My favorite part of Fastnacht is the build-up. First you start to see decorations and costume shops appear around Mainz. Your colleagues begin to tell stories and ask questions. Amazing amounts of manpower come out to set up the various beer stands and bleachers. Occasional costumed officials (as pictured above, standing next to condom head) are met, by you, while walking down empty avenues during lunch break strolls, and again on your 10:00 public night-ride home. Your usual bus line to work is diverted as parts of the city are closed down. After the first Thursday celebrations, you see cut ties and empty bottles in the morning before work (Fastnacht Thursday is for the ladies, and they'll cut off your fabric business-bling if you wear it that day). And finally, the random costumed revellers standing near bus stops in your suburb. Before heading into Mainz today, we saw "around" Fastnacht as the excitement built and built.

1) If you don't hold out, you won't see what you never saw before. The only disappointing part of the day was being unable to see the duck march past. Remember the duck we couldn't see in November? Current rumors hold that that this duck was supposed to close out today's parade. After leaving the insanity of Mainz, we returned to Mombach and turned the parade on TV. I began this post, I then fell asleep. My first words to D, upon waking, were, "Did you see the duck?" No, she didn't see the duck. Perhaps* it's better that way.

And some noticeables from Fastnacht, which doesn't officially end until they symbolically bury the spirit and cry in the Rhein. If you're around this time, next year come check it out. To some, it might just look like Halloween, but really, there's an entirely different jam being pumped. I'll leave you with one more shot, this of the dance party surrounding the Mainzer Karneval Fountain.

*Did you see the duck? Tell us. And if you have a picture of the bird, we'd love to link it or put it up.

2006-02-19T13:49:00.000+01:00

Without lauding Google's Picasa too much, I must say the "nemesis" option can consistently make the closest of friends seem at eternal odds (as also displayed with the Bond/Blofeld photo I created below). Check out how my sister appears to be preparing (with a butterfly) to duel the infamous Yeti:

Let the battle begin!

2006-02-19T00:02:00.000+01:00

Oh, trouble was always so easy in English, Bond. But today's language lesson comes straight from 007's Vegas adventure in Diamonds are Forever. When addressing your archenemy, always use German's polite form of you (Sie), no matter how much arch is in your nemesis. And for all those other Bond girls out there, here's one that needn't be changed for your run-ins with international spies: Oh, James!

2006-02-18T18:19:00.000+01:00

So, I blush to admit this but I hadn't actually realized that the Olympics were going on this year. Honestly, it feels like we just had the Olympics this summer, so I was a bit surprised to discover that we're doing it again! If only I had known earlier! Mainz is not so far away from Turin and it would have been just a hop, skip and a hefty hotel bill to enjoy the thrills of curling up close and personal.

Sadly, J! and I realized too late that a mere 730 km away thousands of freezing cold people were enjoying the best winter sports the world has to offer. Luckily for us, though, we get one channel on the tv and as this particular channel is public access, they show the Winter Olympics 12 hours a day. Granted, "Das Erste" focuses on sports in which Germany has contenders, namely the skeleton, speed skating, and ski jumping, but this doesn't hold them back from also covering figure skating.

I haven't watched figure skating in forever so I was a bit surprised to discover "ice dancing," which J! describes as "primitive figure skating" because the skaters aren't allowed to do all the twists and flips they do in pairs and singles. But while the skaters seem a bit more limited in the technical field, the repetoire is considerably more open in other areas. As far as I can tell, couples get extra points for smiling as wide as possible, kissing on the ice, dramatic makeup, and wearing super skimpy outfits (none of those "fake skin" leotards for the women of ice dancing!! They risk even bare skin for the gold medal!).

Last night was the first competition for ice dancing, in which couples perform the same routine to the same music and are judged on their technical achievements and their "total program" (according to NBC the latter category includes things like "hand movements"). Italian skaters Barbara Fusar-Poli and her partner Maurizio Margaglio skated to first place after wowing the crowds with their spins and blinding them with their costumes. Photos below for your ice dancing enjoyment.

These photos aren't from the Olympics but from Fusar-Poli and Margaglio's 1998/99 "Dracula" series.

She's just discovered that he has a blood fetish.

The horror!

Things don't look good for this couple.

From last night's competition in Turin.

Oddly, they didn't seem to get docked points for their costume choice.

2006-02-16T11:26:00.000+01:00

Mainz Blogger Us-es!!

Attentive dotde readers will notice a few changes to the links menu, notably J!'s wish list from amazon.com (don't give into him, people! He has enough books already, except the "Le Tour" one--we could use a copy of that). Just above these fine literary selections, though, you'll find a link to "a quiet room" which J! found by doing a blogger search on "Mainz." As it turns out, "a quiet room" is a blog about a young couple living in Mainz for a year . . . see where this is headed? That's right! J! has managed, among all the blogs availabe on the entire World Wide Web, to discover our blogger twins!! Who would have guessed?

For example:

1. Chantelle is a German literature Ph. D. student from a university in northern California. Granted, the comparison breaks down a bit because Ben is some kind of scientist at the Max Planck Institute, but really, as I prefer to think of J! as a "word engineer," I think the similarity holds up.

2. They live in Mainz.

3. Their blog relates wacky stories about living in a foreign country.

4. They play settlers.

5. They've the requiste photo of the Lorelei on their blog.

I have a sinking sensation I'm going to run into Chantelle and Ben before the year is out and then there will be an awkward moment when I have to admit that not only do I "know" these people I've never met before, but I wrote a blog post about them. On the bright side, though, dotde readers who hunger for more Meenzer news now have a second outlet--on those days that you visit our lovely blog only to discover that we haven't posted in two weeks, you can just head over to "a quiet room" and catch up on all the local gossip!

2006-02-12T21:46:00.000+01:00

The residents of this house are currently snowed in, though they predict roads will be cleared to teach tomorrow. We have been informed that they may make a trip to Dotde's Mombach headquarters in two weeks, if they decide to buy the $310 round-trip tickets (!!!) and make the drive to Newark's fine airport.

If you know this couple, give them a call today and tell these free spirits to pull the trigger on this adventure. We're approaching the height of Karneval here in Mainz, which boasts one of the best celebrations in all Deutschland.

Being assigned as a guest writer is one of the many perks of visiting Mombach HQ. Now that's Klamkaditious!

2006-02-12T21:09:00.000+01:00

And while we're on the topic of Northern California, Nathan could you tell me if walking around midtown Sac. is more or less dangerous with Ron Artest in town? I hope to make it back there, one day, and see him at Pancake Circus. I would buy him some pie.

Wally Szczerbiak has no business being in Boston, by the way. Especially wearing #55, a number Eric Williams rescued from the (arm) pits of Acie Earl, who, by the way, was last seen angling down a few Serbian basketball courts last year. Maybe I'll look into tickets, just to see him put up 30 one more time.

2006-02-12T18:24:00.000+01:00

If you're looking for something to do in Northern California this month, take a day and head over to San Jose's The Tech Museum of Innovation. Neuroscientific and beautifully shot, Wired to Win will be playing there all month. Brain matters aside, the IMAXian vistas should be enough to convince you to sit around all next summer watching this race (if, of course, you decide against joining us on the green slopes of the Alps). The film's said to have the most incredible shots of the Tour on record.

Scenary aside, what you won't see in the movie is the behind the scenes manipulation of stars and cyclists as doping regulation tries to push its way through the peloton (do you think we really watch the tour just 'cause of the good views?). Tyler Hamilton, as recently announced, won't be able to return to competitive cycling until two days before the road championships. That means no Tour for him this year and a pretty stained reputation. But scandals aside, his foundation does put on a great party for one day of the Tour. So if you can't make it out to Mainz for our trip into the mountains, check his foundation's website for updates on the events which will be held stateside-wide. It is worth the donation to his charity.

But back to Wired to Win...D and I won't be able to see it until the Spring, if at all, when the film travels overseas to spend some time at the Hague. So if you do get a chance to see it in the US, be sure to let us know what you think.

2006-02-07T19:56:00.000+01:00

Germany is a bustling, modern, up-to-date country with all kinds of things that don’t exactly fit in with the “Old Medieval Europe” illusion that most of us tourists come here to see. For starters, hardly anyone wears Lederhosen. This is a country that is so progressive that you can actually test your own alcohol intoxication level at your local watering hole. Despite this, however, Germany has yet to figure out what puts the “super” in supermarket.

For starters, there aren’t too many different chains—Lidl, Norma, Penny Markt, and Aldi are the major ones and they are all “budget” chains. These are essentially the equivalent of Food City, only no buying in bulk and better cheese selections. Tenglemann is about even with a small Ralph’s—if you want something exotic like “tortillas,” pretty much the only place to get them is Tenglemann. Tenglemann doesn’t, unfortunately, sell refried or black beans, so the tortillas won’t actually do you much good. On the bright side, though, Tenglemann gives you little heart stickers every time you spend 5 Euro, and after you’ve collected several thousand hearts you can get free cookware and kitchen utensils.

No matter which chain you choose, though, supermarkets here are small. Not tiny, but not huge, either. And there’s no one-stop shopping in these places—you don’t mix your groceries with your dry cleaning. Not only are the stores themselves on a smaller scale than most Americans are used to, but they are laid out a bit differently: you can see over the aisles and there are usually only about five of them. One whole aisle is generally devoted to “liquid refreshment,” by which I mean a lot of bottled water (both with and without bubbles), ice tea (a favorite drink here in Deutschland) and lots and lots of beer and wine. About half an aisle goes to fruits and veggies (only what is in season—Europe is stricter about what sorts of things you can put on produce to preserve them for sale) and at least ¾ of an aisle goes to candy and cookies (this is J!’s favorite part of the store). And did I mention they sell a lot of beer?

The real delight, though, about shopping in Germany is the checkout counter. Cashiers here (and elsewhere in Europe) sit in nice comfy chairs, which I think is great because who wants to have their food scanned by a cranky person who has been standing on his or her feet all day? Especially since everyone else in the supermarket is generally cranky to begin with. This is mostly because of the lines. Grocery store lines in Germany look something like this

only with people, not cars. This is not because everyone goes shopping at once but because Germans, in general, seem to have difficulty with standing in line.* Lines here are really for all the idiots who don’t know any better than to push their way to the front. There’s a subtle art to cutting in grocery lines and it mainly involves sidestepping unwary shoppers while they try to decide which flavor of Airwaves gum to buy (“Menthol Eucalyptus? Cassis + Vitamin C? Spicy Cocktail?”). Lines in supermarkets work basically the same way natural selection does in the wild—the weak ones, the old ones and the foreigners get picked off first.

For example, this evening I dropped by Lidl to pick up some essentials, namely cheese, Golden Toast** and Ritter Sport.*** While I was standing in line, another cashier opened her lane and immediately the two fifteen year old girls behind me whizzed past an old woman with a cane and darted in front. Clearly they’d been trained well. I figured I’d stay where I was since by the time I even registered the existence of the new line it was already as long as the one I was in. How naïve I was. Other shoppers, having noticed my vulnerability, moved in for the kill. A middle-aged gentleman buying about twelve chocolate crème puddings and two loaves of bread pinned me alongside the candy counter with his cart and proceeded to unload his items on the conveyer belt. Then, after making sure that I was still securely squished up against the M&Ms, he squeezed through the aisle on the other side of his cart to go pay. I, in the meantime (not knowing the German translation for an exasperated “hey!!”) attempted to appear fascinated by the selection of Hairbo gummy candies.

If you do manage finally to get to the cashier, you’re in for another special treat. No one waits at the end of the lane to bag your groceries (in fact, if you want a bag at all you have to pay for it) and the cashier’s counter is not terribly large. This means that in the five seconds before the cashier begins scanning the next person’s groceries, you have to whip out the cloth bags you brought with you, bag your items, pay, and collect your change. Essentially, you’ve already failed at this by the time you even get to the cashier. This isn’t really as tragic as it sounds, though, because it gives the person behind you, whom you presumably took advantage of while they were picking out their cigarettes, a chance to glare and shake their fist while they swear revenge.

*Arr! and I once saw a woman on a bus punch another man in the chest on her way to grab a seat that he clearly wanted. The sound he made was something in between a tuberculotic cough and a death rattle.

**Little rolls that come partially baked and that you finish baking whenever you want. I eat about a dozen a week, usually with Nutella.

***Germany’s favorite chocolate bar. Comes in any flavor you can imagine, including marzipan.

So far we have 29 hearts. As far as I can tell that's just enough for a Tupperware lid or the handle of a saucepan. [Writing at the top of the card reads: "Please stick on your Truehearts here"]

2006-02-06T14:59:00.000+01:00

As someone who grew up on the southern California coast, I admit that in the past I have had relatively little use for or interest in Groundhog Day. Feb. 2 was simply one more day in a "beach winter" where "bundling up" means wearing shoes instead of flip-flops. This year, however, potentially having six more weeks of winter not only means I have to keep wearing shoes, but that I need to stock up on more Aspirin Complex (the NyQuil equivalent over here) and multi-vitamins. So, like any normal person with a grave distrust of weather.com, I headed over to Punxsutawney Phil's website to check out the forecast. According to groundhog.org, things don't look good:

It is said that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.
Around the country there are many imitators of me.

In Harrisburg there is Gus who appears on TV
working for the lottery.

Then all around town,
Cute groundhog statues abound.
They all look like me, I found.

Today on the Knob as I'm doing my job,
I don't like this likeness of me.

It's my shadow I see. Six more weeks of mild winter there will be.

I have to say, though, my faith in Phil was shaken a bit when I read the Frequently Asked Questions page and discovered that Phil is over 120 years old and that he prognosticates in Groundhogese, "a language only understood by the current president of the Inner Circle." I'm not sure how much I trust a tottering, monomaniacal groundhog that issues proclamations only in rhyming couplets. I've decided intsead to place my faith in the fact that all the stores here are already selling tank tops and capri pants--surely this bodes well for warmer weather in the next month.

2006-02-06T14:58:00.000+01:00

Feb. 1st has finally come and what better way to celebrate my paycheck than buying a new guitar?! Yep, we have a new six string addition here at dotde. I've always wanted to learn how to play the guitar and since I'm stuck inside all the time (it being somewhat cooler than the 70 degrees F. I'm used to), I figure now's the perfect time to practice. My Yamaha 310 arrived two days ago in the world's largest cardboard box and I was able to play for at least fifteen minutes before my fingers threatened to mutiny. I'm working, right now, on learning "Leaving on a Jet Plane," which is a beautiful but very sad song. I think I should learn something a bit more cheerful next . . . like "The Drugs Don't Work." The thing is, you can really only learn sad songs when you first start because happy songs have too fast a beat. Actually, what I find works best is to select a song in G maj. and simply play the G chord throughout the whole song, regardless of any other chords that should be used. Luckily for me, J! is either very supportive of the arts or tone deaf, because he hasn't seemed to notice yet that everything I play is in the same key.

Speaking of music, J! and I went to dinner this evening at a hole-in-the-wall Lebanese restaurant in downtown Mainz. I highly suggest it for any future travellers to Mainz--the food is great and very cheap. The best part, though, is that the owner sings to you instead of talking. So, for example, when you finally decide you want the tasty mussaka, he'll croon away, "eine grosse oder eine kleine?" [big or small size?]. Eventually, if you are J!, you just give in and sing back . . . on the way out the door you'll hear a chorus of "Auf Wiedersehen!" with everyone choosing whatever tune they like best.

It gets its own chair . . .

2006-02-06T14:45:00.000+01:00

When it rains, it pours . . . I promise, this will be the last toilet post. This is the website for a project at an art/design school in nearby Karlsruhe. My personal favorite is the pee tree.

The PeePeeProject

2006-02-05T22:31:00.000+01:00

My brother, K, found this and it reminded me of a recent post here on dotde. I'd like to point out that with the old "squat" method toilets this wasn't an issue.

A GAME THEORETIC APPROACH TO THE TOILET SEAT PROBLEM
By Richard Harter

The toilet seat problem has been the subject of much controversey. In this paper we consider a simplified model of the toilet seat problem. We shall show that for this model there is an inherent conflict of interest which can be resolved by a equity solution.

Consider a bathroom with one omnipurpose toilet (also known as a WC) which is used for two toilet operations which we shall designate as #1 and #2. The toilet has an attachment which we shall refer to as the seat (but see remark 1 below) which may be in either of two positions which we shall designate as up and down.

Toilet operations are performed by members of the human species (see remark 2 below) who fall into two categories, popularly designated as male and female. For convenience we shall use the name John to refer to the typical male and Marsha to refer to the typical female.

The performance of toilet operations by John and Marsha differ in a number of respects. The costs of these operations are peculiar to the respective sexes and are fixed except with respect to the position of the toilet seat. In particular:

Marsha performs toilet operations #1 and #2 with the seat in the down position. John performs toilet operation #1 with the seat in the up position and toilet operation #2 with the seat in the down position. If the seat is in the wrong position before performing the toilet operation the position must be changed at an average cost C. Optionally the position may be changed after performing the toilet operation, also at an average cost C. (Changing the position of the seat during the performance of a toilet operation is beyond the scope of this note and is definitely not recommended.)

Consider the scenario where John and Marsha each use a separate toilet. It should be obvious to the most casual observer that each minimizes the seat position transfer cost by not altering the seat position after performing a toilet operation.

For Marsha the seat position transfer cost is 0 since all operations are performed with the seat in the down position. For John the cost is greater than 0 since seat position transfers must be performed.

Let p be the probability that John will perform a #1 operation vs a #2 operation. Assume that John optimizes his seat position transfer cost (see remark 3 below.) Then it is easy to determine that John’s average cost of seat position transfer per toilet opeation is

B = 2p(1-p)C

where B is the bachelor cost of toilet seat position transfers per toilet operation.

Now let us consider the scenario where John and Marsha cohabit and both use the same toilet. In our analysis we shall assume that John and Marsha perform toilet operations with the same frequency (see remark 4 below) and that the order in which they perform them is random. They discover to their mutual displeasure that their cohabitation adversely alters the toilet seat position transfer cost function for each of them. What is more there is an inherent conflict of interest. Attempts to resolve the problem typically revolve around two strategies which we shall designate as J and M

Strategy J
Each person retains the default strategy that they used before cohabiting. This strategy is proposed by John with the argument “Why does it matter if the seat is up or down?”. As we see below this strategy benefits John.

Strategy M
Each person leaves the seat down. This strategy is proposed by Marsha with the argument “It ought to be down.” As we see below this strategy benefits Marsha.

Consequences of strategy J:
Under strategy J the toilet seat is is in the up position with probability p/2. The respective average cost of toilet seat transfer operations for John and Marsha are:

John: p(3/2-p)C
Marsha: pC/2

The incremental costs (difference between pre and post habitation costs) are:

John: ( p - 1/2)pC
Marsha: pC/2
Total: (p^2)C

John’s incremental cost would actually be negative if p were less than 1/2. This is not the case; p>1/2. Note that Marsha’s incremental cost is greater than John’s for p<1. Marsha objects.

Consequences of strategy M:
In strategy M the seat is always left down. When John performs operation #1 he lifts the seat before the operation and lowers it after the operation. The respective average cost of toilet seat transfer operations is:

John: 2pC
Marsha: 0

The incremental costs are:

John: 2(p^2)C
Marsha: 0
Total: 2(p^2)C

In these strategy Marsha bears no cost; all of the incremental costs are borne by John. John objects. Note also that the combined incremental cost of strategy M is greater than that of strategy J.

It is notable that John and Marsha each advocates a strategy that benefits them. This is predictable under game theory. However the conflict over strategies has a cost M in marital discord that is greater than the cumulative cost of toilet seat transfers. It behooves John and Marsha, therefore, to adopt a strategy that minimizes M.

This is not simple. A common reaction is to advance sundry arguments to justify adopting strategy M or J. All such arguments are suspect because they are self serving (and often accompanied with the “If you loved me” ploy.) A sound strategy is one that is equitable and is seen to be equitable. In this regard there are three candidate criteria:

(1) Minimize the joint total cost
(2) Equalize the respective total costs
(3) Equalize the respective incremental costs

The argument for (1) is that John and Marsha are now as one and it is the joint costs and benefits of the union that should be considered. This principle is not universally accepted. It is readily seen that (see remark 5) that the joint total cost is optimized by strategy J which has already been seen to be suspect.

Criterion (2) seems plausible. It requires, however, that Marsha put the seat in the up position after performing a toilet operation some percentage of the time. No instance of this behaviour has ever been observed in recorded history; ergo this criterion can be ruled out. (But see remark 6.)

Criterion (3) argues that the mututal increased cost of toilet seat operations should be shared equitably, i.e., neither party should bear a disproportionate share of the costs of cohabitation. A short calculation reveals that criterion (3) can be achieved if John leaves the seat up after performing toilet operation #1 with a frequency

f = (2p-1)/p

Since the value of p is seldom precisely measured and is variable in any event it suffices to use an approximate value of f. If we assume that p=2/3 then f=1/2. This suggests the following convenient rule of thumb:

In the morning John leaves the seat up after performing #1.
In the evening he puts it down.

This rule may not be precise but it is simple and approximately equitable; moreover the use of a definite rule sets expectations. The seat is put down in the evening to avoid the notorious “middle of the night surprise”.

I expect that this analysis should settle the toilet seat controversey for once and for all - if John and Marsha are mathematicians.
* * *

Remark 1: The toilet has an additional attachment called the toilet seat lid which can only be down if the toilet seat is down. When the lid is down the toilet is (or should be) non-functional for toilet operations. Some persons maintain the toilet seat lid in the down position when the toilet is not use. For these persons the analysis in this note is moot. Such persons pay a fixed cost in seat movement for all toilet operations.

Remark 2: Toilets are also used by domestic animals as a convenient source of drinking water unless the lid is down. (See remark 1)

Remark 3: Experimental evidence suggests that almost all bachelors optimize the seat transfer cost, the exception being those who put the seat up after performing a #2 operation.

Remark 4: Folklore has it that Marsha performs more toilet operations than John, hypothetically because of a smaller bladder. John, however, drinks more beer. We shall not discuss his prostate problem.

Remark 5: “Readily seen” in this context means “It looks obvious but I don’t know how to prove it; you figure it out.”

Remark 6: The toilet lid solution is to put the toilet lid down after all toilet operations. This solution imposes a cost of 2C on each party and is accordingly more expensive. It is, however, more esthetic. It also eliminates the “doggy drinking” problem.

2006-02-01T19:00:00.000+01:00

J!, another J (who also teaches at Johannes Gutenberg Uni with me) and I went to see "Die Große Stille" last week (the film's English title is "Into Great Silence"). It is a documentary by Peter Gröning about the Carthusian monks of the monastery La Grande Chartreuse, located high in the French Alps (near Grenoble). The Carthusians believe in the contemplation of God and to this end they live in extreme solitude (hence the monastery in the Alps). They rarely talk, but spend their time reading, working, praying, and chanting Mass.

As a result, it is not exactly a chatty film. In fact, the entire "soundtrack" for the film is diegetic--that is, only what exists within the film itself. There is no voice over, no explanation, and no music (except the chanting). The film attempts to recreate what it is like to spend your time in repetitive tasks, contemplating God. For three hours, the film follows monks as they pray, go to Mass, chant, read, pray, go to Mass, chant, read, pray, chant, etc, etc. The whole point, essentially, is to learn about the lives of the monks not so much by explanation as by vicarious experience. Ultimately, though, because the film can only record a monk praying but not record what he is praying about the film raises as many questions as it answers (if it answers any questions). My biggest one was simply "what are they thinking about?"

It is an interesting film, although I think it could have been better if parts of it had been edited out. I found myself wondering about all the stuff that wasn't being shown rather than what was--I couldn't really help it. By the end, I wanted to know more about the times when the the monks weren't in their routine--how do they get food to the monastery? What do they joke about together? What do they wear when they sleep? That kind of stuff. And while I don't think the film is really interested in that sort of thing, I do think that it is somewhat manipulative of our curiosity about those details--it clearly attempts to demonstrate how monastic life is not, in some ways, so different from our own daily lives (we watch a Brother, at one point, call to cats to feed them, or in another scene the monks all go sledding down a hill) and yet it appears unwilling to reveal anything but glimpses about the similarities. Peter Gröning claims in an interview (available on the film's website) that he didn't want to make a film that "explained" monasteries, so perhaps this is a deliberate move on his part to force viewers not simply to contemplate contemplation, but also to satisfy their curiosity by actively seeking out answers to their own questions.

It is really worth seeing, especially if you have three hours to spare and any interest in monks. Or the French Alps--the setting is amazing. You can read more about the film here. If you decide to go see the film, I would suggest reading about the Carthusian Order before you do--there are a lot of details that make more sense to me in hindsight. Here's the link for the website for the Carthusian Order, in case you are curious.

2006-01-31T11:45:00.000+01:00

For those of you who haven't yet become regular readers of Velonews, note the most recent Eurofile on Jan Ullrich highlighting Eddy Merckx´s endorsement of our favorite German diesel engine to win this year's Tour. Several other prominent cycling experts, Armstrong included, have also predicted this predominately plump prospect to play on the podium in Paris. Merckx's reasoning, in short, is that Ullrich's entry in the Giro should help shed the baby fat that never really disappears until the third week of the Tour. For those not this familiar with cycling, Jan Ullrich is the Tour De France's version of the 1990s Buffalo Bills (except that he actually won the show in '97--something the Bills failed to do in their run of perennial second place showings).

Apparently, Ullrich can never really control himself at the buffet line in the off-season, which probably means he eats two apples a day instead of one. And since his bike is already as light as possible, it's up to Jan to flatten out the tummy rolls (sidenote: we here at Dotde sympathize with you, Jan, as German winters are mighty cold here without that extra padding. Plus many of our readers haven't tried the typical German cookie easily purchasable at any gas station, grocery, and department store that may be right on the route of your average 100km training ride). In addition, Ullrich is also plagued by numerous photos of his grimacing mug leading his Giant bicycle through the Alps, and we believe this to be the result of a media stain campaign.

Nonetheless, the combination of his entry in the Giro and his prospects for Tour success raises the hopes of the Cycling Division here at Dotde--huge fans of Jan Ullrich after several demystifying seasons following American Cycling Poster-Bully Lance Armstrong (the romance ended in 2004). Look for us on May and July alpine slopes mingling with cyclists as they slowly creep by, catching disposed water bottles and posting cyclist interviews via tent-top satellite.

Which is why we're using this post to advertise an opening for an Editorial Intern in our Cycling Division. Duties include transcription and interview editing, assistance in meal preparation, and light side-by-side cyclist streaking during mountain stages. Qualifications required are experience in tent-pitching, satellite maintenance, and German drinking song singing. Please use our comment box to write a short description of yourself and why we should choose you to travel along with our Cycling Division as they report from 2 of the 3 Grand Tours. We'll contact the most interesting and qualified individuals and conduct brief telephone interviews. Deadline to apply: 1 March 2006.

2006-01-28T14:01:00.000+01:00

There is, no doubt, any number of blogs written by expatriats and college kids studying abroad devoted to explaining the quirky mannerisms and cultural oddities (complete with pics) of their adopted countries. Here at dotde, however, we like to push the limits of such blogging by going where other bloggers fear to tread. Namely, the German bathroom.

To begin with, "bathroom" and "toilet" are not interchangeable in German the way they are in English. For example, you've just flown into München from JFK airport and naturally your first stop is the famous Hofbrauhaus. After a hearty German meal and three Maße, you waddle over to the nearest waiter and test out your German skills by asking "Entschuldigung, wo ist das Badezimmer?" ("excuse me, where is the bathroom?"). The waiter will most likely stare at you with mild amusement while you begin to do a little dance as the three Maße in your lower abdominal region make their presence known. After a few moments, though, he'll respond in perfect English "down the hall, first door on the left." In fact, he has politely ignored the fact that you've just asked where the bath room is, as though you feel a need to take a shower before returning to your table to order another round of beer.

So, lesson 1: Always ask for "die Toilette" or "das WC" (water closet).

Lesson 2: A tiny cave to youself.

I can't speak for men's bathrooms (perhaps J! might like to give you the details) but Germans have taken "water closet" literally. Stalls here are, in fact, tiny, tiled closets. No cheap metal partitions held together by dilapidated screws, no looking under the stall door to check and see if it is occupied, and no passing toilet paper under the partition. There are no partitions. There are just individual rooms and floor to ceiling doors. If you were accidentally locked in, they'd have to bring in a wrecking ball to get you out again.

Lesson 3: You use, you pay.

By "public restroom," I really mean "bathrooms that anyone can use if they have 50 Euro cents." Most toilets in Germany (and elsewhere in Europe) require that you pay to use them and the fee varies from 20 Euro cents to a whole Euro. Typically, pay toilets have an attendant on staff who cleans the restroom, keeps it stocked, etc. For example, the Hofbrauhaus in München has a woman who stands near the sinks and after you leave the stall, she darts in and spritzes the whole place with antiseptic cleaner. This is a bit unnerving, but after your third Maß you don't really notice anymore. You also don't notice that you've given her a 2 Euro coin instead of the 20 Euro cents you meant to, but this is a minor detail.

There are some exceptions to the pay restrooms--most restaurants do not require you to pay. And, of course, bathroom use at McDonald's is generally free (provided you have a receipt). Some bathrooms do not have an attendant but you still have to pay to get in. These restrooms will often have a turnstile at the door, as though you are entering an amusement park or high security bank.

Lesson 4: Big flush or little flush?

It used to be, in Europe, that public restrooms were a bit of a rarity. Well, public restrooms as we Americans are familiar with. Many women's bathrooms, for example, used the old "squat" method and basins were few and far between. This has changed and in most places in Europe toilets are very common (particularly places where tourists are likely to visit). In Germany, however, the toilet has progressed so far as to give you a number of choices, turning the restroom into a daily experience of self-determination. Instead of the outdated one-size-flush fits all, many German toilets come with two buttons, one large and one small. I leave it to your vivid imaginations to come up with the reason for this, but I will say that the buttons are typically tastefully designed. My university, for example, employs a triangular structure, with the small button at the tip of the triangle. The restrooms at the train station, however, go for more of a lopsided Venn diagram approach.

Lesson 5: Clean up after yourself.

Every single public restroom I've used in Germany comes equipped with a toilet brush. A WC with twelve separate toilet stalls will have twelve toilet brushes.

They aren't there for decoration.

Lesson 6: Smoking is not prohibited.

In fact, it is somewhat encouraged. That's right, for those of you who are serious chain smokers, who accidentally lit a cigarette before recognizing another, more urgent need, or who simply like to multi-task, then Germany is the place for you! Many bathroom stalls come specially equipped with an ashtray built into the wall, within easy reach.

Also, one final note. I have yet to see that ubiquitous bathroom sign, "All employees must wash their hands before returning to work." Either German employees have tidier habits than American workers or, more likely, they haven't yet been convinced that the sign makes it physically impossible for employees to leave the bathroom without washing their hands first.

Update: J!'s father thoughtfully brought the following picture to my attention, as evidence that J! should not be allowed, under any circumstances, to add his $.02 to any discussion concerning the use of WCs (or trees).

2006-01-28T13:55:00.000+01:00

As a follow up to the James Frey post and comments, I thought I'd add this satire. It was written by Tim Carvell (a writer for The Daily Show) and appeared in the New York Times on Jan. 11, 2006. You can also read it at nytimes.com (you can access it for free by signing up).

A Million Little Corrections
By TIM CARVELL

IT is with great sorrow, and no small amount of embarrassment, that I must confess to some inadvertent errors, omissions and elisions in my best-selling memoir, “A Brief History of Tim.” In the wake of the recent revelations about the work of J T Leroy and James Frey, it seems inevitable that some of my small mistakes will come to light, and so I feel duty-bound to be upfront and honest with you. Plus, I hear that reporters have been sniffing around.

I feel that none of the slight liberties I took in writing my memoir really affect the overall work, but nonetheless, you should know a few things:

I am not, in fact, black.

Nor am I, to the best of my knowledge, a woman. Anything in my book that suggests otherwise is the result of a typographical error. That this error was compounded by my decision to pose for my author photo and bookstore appearances in drag and blackface is, I will acknowledge, unfortunate.

The portions of my book dealing with Depression-era Ireland are, I have been reliably informed, copied verbatim from Frank McCourt’s “Angela’s Ashes.” I can only conclude that I accidentally confused my manuscript with my notes for my memoir in which I copied large portions of other writers’ works, just to see how they were structured. In hindsight, the fact that I was born 40 years after the Depression should have been a tip-off.

My parents are both alive; any reference to my being orphaned at age 12 was meant to be strictly metaphorical.

Furthermore, my parents and their lawyers would like it known that neither they, nor any other member of my family, ever beat and/or had sex with me. I thought it was clear that those parts of the book were meant as a joke. (That’s what the emoticons were for.)

In writing a narrative, it is sometimes necessary to compress or combine certain incidents for dramatic effect. I did much the same thing in the chapter of my book dealing with my prison term, although in reverse: in the interest of dramatic clarity, I expanded my 1993 arrest for jaywalking into a seven-year stint in Sing Sing for manslaughter.

Okay, it wasn’t so much a jaywalking “arrest” as a ticket.

Fine, it was a stern warning. Happy now?

The death of my older brother, my ensuing severe depression and subsequent emotional breakthrough with the help of a caring psychotherapist did not happen to me, but rather to Timothy Hutton in the film “Ordinary People,” which I saw at a very impressionable age, and which I could have sworn happened to me.

Ditto for the part about accidentally hacking into Norad and being saved from causing a global thermonuclear war, with an assist from Dabney Coleman. That was “WarGames.”

Really, the fact that I could remember his name only as “Dabney Coleman” should have given me pause.

And, finally, since people are getting all “fact-checky” on me, I should just confess that my life did not, in fact, shatter into a million little pieces. I just went back and recounted. It was six pieces. Consider it a rounding error.

2006-01-27T22:52:00.000+01:00

First Contact

Just when you thought the US Postal Service gave up on this fine citizen (afterall, he doesn't pay much for taxes, right?), two forwarded letters arrive today via Deutsche Post. I'm now completely in tune with my NWA Frequent Flyer Miles, and I know that I'm about miss my last chance to renew the New Yorker at such an incredible price.

2006-01-26T22:44:00.000+01:00

Usually, I won't use this space as a place for random thoughts on current issues, but I thought this relevant to the writers here at Dotde as it may connect to travel writing in an interesting way.

Oprah, since when have we supposed memoir to be absolutely honest? And how come you look younger now than you did in 1986? You must lather it on to look good, right?

Nonetheless, you may catalogue your readings here at Dotde under the realm of "mostly" nonfiction. If you are able to penetrate the fabric of reality we at the office attempt to pull taut, at least don't cry at us on National TV. Not only do we produce 99% biographical work, but any embellishment is purely for your entertainment. Most embellishment, I might add, takes place in the comment box from those mysteriously anonymous quips.

And we mention this now because we fear concern of this type from our readers. If there's any need for concern or anger, let us here redirect you to humph and humph. These two links will satisfy your needs (for anger or entertainment, depending on your mood).

Yes, we are in Mainz. And yes, I'm taking another road trip to play ultimate near Munich this weekend. D will hold down the office, and hopefully we'll have more reports from Chocolate Mombach (not to be confused as Nagin's mini-practice-plan for New Orleans) while we close down January and reopen the second month of the year.

2006-01-26T20:09:00.000+01:00

Just thought I'd add that I've posted a new link to Iosefina Sarrou's website. Iosefina and I lived together for a year in Davis--she's back in Athens, Greece, now, but she makes very unique jewelry that is unlike anything else I've seen. She very thoughtfully gave me some beautiful pieces that I love. Her stuff is worth taking a look at, even just to see what it is like.

As a side note, the quote on her website about the Firewalk refers to an event that happens twice a year at Davis where people gather together and walk on fire. She actually did this. She's not joking about loving fire.

Interested parties can find out more info about firewalking here.

2006-01-26T19:42:00.000+01:00

When I lived in Venice, I used to go running in the early morning, when the cafes were just barely opening their doors and the street sweepers weren't even out yet. I did this for two reasons a.) the streets in Venice are so narrow that you can't really run at any other time of the day and b.) jogging in Italy (at least while I was there) was considered to be somewhat silly. And the Italians were right, of course. Having regained my senses, I now avoid running whenever possible, especially early in the morning. But, because of this little bout of mental incapcitation, I now associate Italy with the smell of baking bread and coffee. There's something a little bit odd about this, though--as though Italy smells a certain way.

I figured, upon moving to Germany, that I wouldn't have this problem in a second European country: I don't jog anymore and I avoid getting up at the time when bread is being baked. In this, however, I've been sadly mistaken.

I emerged from the apartment today and was greeted by a lovely, snow-covered morning. Imagine a picture postcard that reads "Winter in Germany" and you'll have an idea of what my neighborhood looked like. And, to top it off, the whole thing smelled exactly like hot chocolate and rum! Now, I grant you that I've never lived much in the snow, but for some reason, it made perfect sense to me that snow would smell like hot chocolate. If you have to shovel the stuff, it might as well smell tasty and delicious while you do it. I mused on this as I reduced the lovely stuff to slush on my way to the bus stop, and finally decided that there must be some kind of plant in the vicinity that, when snowed upon, releases (obviously) a pheremone that attracts winter insects and hot cocoa fans as unwitting vehicles to spread its spores.

It wasn't until about ten minutes later, passing on the bus through the "industrial section" of Mombach that I remembered the local Nestle factory.

Which just goes to show that if you have to live near a factory, at least be selective and choose one devoted to chocolate. It'll spice up your winter.

2006-01-23T11:55:00.000+01:00

Shopping's a huge deal in the Rhein/Main metro area, with several different venues at your disposal. For instance, D and I debated for much of Saturday morning whether to go to Wiesbaden or Frankfurt for a daily shopping trip. After riding the bus into Mainz's inner city, we decided to stay in our fair locale. Perhaps not comparable to Frankfurt, but we have all the basics. And despite the chilly rain showers (we don't have malls here, you know), there were crowds around every corner. The post-Christmas sales were in full swing, and D brought home an orange bargain from H & M, a store that is apparently having their "Final Sale." So get down there quick, because, never again!

Perhaps more impressive are walks through the Altstadt on Sunday afternoons when all the stores are closed. Then you'll find hundreds of people roaming the streets and staring into dark shop windows, appraising what they could purchase if laws were let a bit loose. No wonder Mantelsonntag was such a big deal back in the Fall. But now, if you want jeans from Leo's or a new espresso machine from Saturn, you'll have to wait until Monday. Unless, of course, what you want is purchasable at your local petrol station around the corner from your house.

2006-01-17T22:26:00.000+01:00

Ten Could've Been Posts, already dated but in no specific order of appearance:

10) Arr!'s sadly gone and beer comsumption has dramatically shifted downwards since his departure. We still have yet to rake in on the Euros of bottle deposits left in the wake of his frequent trips to the local petrol station.

9) Didn't quite get a chance to review my wonderful trip back home to see my family. Events included two trips to Chef Wayne's Big Mamou, an family investigation into the atrocities occuring at the local butterfly conservatory, and Gleason's becoming a regular at a bar in Northampton. Oh, and the new exhibit (Amusement Park) being put up at Mass MOCA is absolutely worth seeing. It's been the feeling of a poem for a while, and walking through the work-in-progress pushed the movement even further. Anyway, it was so great to see everyone back home again, as always.

8) Reports from 234 HQ are that my sister's 2nd cat was subject to a freak bag accident the other day, invoking 24 hrs. of hissing and hiding from his beloved caretaker. We here at Dotde hope that all emotions back to partly sunny, partly scared. I should add, though, that my entire relationship with this cat is based on hissing and hiding.

7) FR Ultimate went 4-4 in our tournament last weekend. Most satisfying was that I was asked to go to Indoor Nationals with them, which has prompted more vigorous running on my part, along with my first trip to a Yoga class with D and a couple people from work.

6) My emotions for the local souperie here in Mainz rivals my original love for the soup schleppers at Souper Bowl in Amherst. Germany, however, seems to be a little behind in bread bowl technology. But the owner speaks great English (don't worry, Dad, I still order in German so as not to feign intimidation), and I'll be sure to make the suggestion if our conversations ever drift into area of liquid vessels.

5) Carson's Decreation and Bernstein's Shadowtime have been the most notable of two of the five books I've consumed recently.

4) The Dotde "Secret Santa" gift-giving activity displayed the exchange of several great gifts. What a laugh D! and I had when we realized we drew each other's name for the exchange (considering the amount of people in Dotde's editorial department!). I ended up with a beautiful new watch, and D came out sporting a super-cute bag.

3) Despite our presence in the 21st Century, international mail is quite lackluster. Many delays and several undelivered holiday gifts have left us wondering if Amerigo Vespucci had better postal service during his travels between continents. Of course, it could be that some NSA official's out there snacking on our German cookie treats while opening other letters are reading post cards. Which is to say that we DO appreciate the NSA here at Dotde as they do compose of our largest reading audience. Get our mail to its destination, guys, and we'll be sure to send a few logoed mouse pads your way.

2) My 2 week beard has disappeared. It was a little weak, me with one bald cheek. Plans are in the works to try again next winter.

1) Let's end on a decorative pattern:

<><><>(((<><><>)))<><><>

2006-01-15T10:58:00.000+01:00

More pics from München and our Tobogganing Adventure. Note: the pizza box was inserted into the Ikea bag, to give it a bit more structure.

Arr! practices for the real thing.

The snow wasn't quite icy enough for tobogganing. And there wasn't quite enough of it.

This picture is making our mother nervous, I bet.

I actually slid about two whole feet before falling over.

In the foreground is what's left of Arr!'s Maß. This shot gives you a nice idea of the size of a Maß beer relative to Arr!'s face.

Arr!, enjoying all München has to offer. As a side note, München is full of these lions right now, all painted differently and often in different positions. It is part of a city-wide project called Münchner Löwenparade ("Munich Lion Parade"). Local businesses buy and decorate a lion to support the children's charity, "Children in Need." München is in Bavaria, a state in Germany that has long been associated with lions (lions are in several of the coats-of-arms and the Bavarian state is often represented as a lion), hence the choice of animal.

2006-01-14T21:48:00.000+01:00

It has been a while since J! and I posted on the blog, so I figured I’d give a quick and dirty version of the last three weeks.

Dec. 23-Dec. 31:

My family came out for a delightful visit and a nice, relaxing cruise up the Rhine River. The cruise included stops in Frankfurt am Main, Mainz, Köln, Düsseldorf, Nijmegen, and Amsterdam. Highlights of the cruise included:
- Xmas with the family
- food, three times a day, and hot tea any time you wanted it
- a home-hosted dinner with Hans and Cily Muyderman, from the lovely town of Nijmegen in The Netherlands. (I stole a great vegetarian casserole recipe from Hans, and if I can make it as well as he did I’ll post it some time).
- attempting to pronounce Nijmegen correctly (“no, no, it’s ‘aghhhh’ in the back of the throat!’”)
- a fabulous stained glass window in Stevenskerk (also in Nijmegen) by artist Mark Mulders
- visiting the Roman Praetorium in Köln, which has been restored and is actually underground and provides access to the old Roman sewer.
- an amateur choir made up mostly of Dutch men who were all about 60+ and looked as though they’d spent their whole lives at sea. Plus, their musical accompaniment was a man who played the accordion! So fun!
- the Commerzbank skyscraper in Frankfurt, which was designed by Sir Norman Foster. According to our guides, the skyscraper was designed specifically with Germans in mind. Germans, evidently, dislike artificial air conditioning, and so all the windows in the building can be opened. To cool the air, the Commerzbank has “wintergardens,” in which trees and plants create fresh oxygen. Some of the trees in the wintergardens were so large that they had to be flown in by helicopter to the top of the building and brought inside through the elevator shafts.

Still needs work:
- the Lorelei. Anyone who visits Germany will eventually hear the Lorelei heralded as a major tourist attraction. People (including your tourist guides) will give you a long spiel about a hair-brushing siren, tragically drowned sailors, and treacherous river waters. Don’t believe them! The Lorelei is actually a cliff. And what’s more, it looks so much like all the other cliffs in this particular area, that they’ve had to label it with a big sign that reads, “LORELEI.” That said, if you want to see some amazing castles, take a river cruise up the Rhine between Mainz and Köln. You can also see them by train (as Arrr! and I discovered, upon returning to Mainz from Amsterdam) but the boat ride gives you a better view.
- Amsterdam. I know, I know . . . but if you visited Amsterdam during a sleet storm, you’d probably agree with me on this one. At any rate, there was a distinct lack of tulips. If you want canals, I’d say go to Venice, but that’s my own personal biased opinion. However, I’m willing to give Amsterdam the benefit of the doubt and say that it is probably much nicer in the spring or summer. Or anytime without sleet.
- Baroque duets for piano and recorder. Really, this goes without saying, doesn’t it? This “entertainment” was provided by Grand Circle, and the lovely couple who performed for us really seemed to be enjoying themselves, which was actually quite fun to watch. But let me just point out that there is a reason why the recorder, as an instrument, went out of fashion about, oh, three centuries ago. At one point during the concert, the pair got away from the Baroque music for a bit and played a Brazilian carnival piece (transposed for recorder and piano). This was pretty much the only song I liked, but it prompted my father, startled by the sudden change in tempo, to wake up and proclaim (rather loudly), “What kind of Baroque is this?” There was much rude giggling about this from the family and various staff members.
- the Red Light District. More tasteful than Vegas . . . it’s essentially just like any other shopping district in town, with a lot of (seemed to me) young American guys who had just come straight form a nearby “coffeeshop.”

Jan. 6-9, 2006

For our last trip together before Arr!’s visit came to an end, we all valiantly tried to get Ryanair flights to some sunny, beachy location. Sadly, we struck out on Sardinia and anywhere in Spain or Portugal. DeutscheBahn, however, gave us a great deal on train tickets to München (where the average temperature was hovering somewhere around 1 degree Celsius). What München lacked in warm weather, though, it distinctly made up for in beer. Lots of it. As responsible tourists, we felt it our duty to sample as much of the local culture as possible, which translates to about 7 liters in three days. Not too bad, given that we didn’t even make it to the hostel’s own bar (open from “8 pm to ????”) and stuck mostly to breweries like Augustiner Keller and the Hofbrauhaus. I liked Augustiner Keller better—quieter, better beer (I thought) and noticeably fewer annoying Australian guys. Also, Augustiner Keller has a great salmon dish, for anyone planning on visiting.

Highlights in München:

- the Maß. This is Bavarian for “huge glass of beer that requires two hands to lift.” Actually, it is a liter of beer. Think of it as the original beer barbell—you can work your biceps while you drink!

- Meininger Hostel. A great hostel, on the whole—nice staff, a fusball table, The Daily Show on tv, and their heaters even worked (more than I can say for the hostel we stayed in at Venice, which had a power outage when we plugged in the space heater). Watch out for the showers, though.

- Füssen is an enchanting town outside of Münich, most famous for being near Castle Neuschwanstein. I don’t know what it is like in the summer, but in the winter, after a snow storm, it is beautiful.

Could’ve been better:

- Castle Neuschwanstein. Built by “mad” King Ludwig II (whose penchants for Wagner and swans proved a somewhat tragic combination), the castle is one of the most popular tourist attractions in Germany. It is supposedly the model for Disneyland’s castle and is thought by some people to be the most photographed building in the world. It is exceptionally beautiful, especially in the winter, but the tour is terrible. If you would like to see the castle, go—it is a great experience. If you actually want to learn anything about the castle, though, check out a book from your local library. The tours of both castles (you can also visit Hohenschwangau, which is just down the hill), last about 15 minutes each. Trust me, if you visit during the winter time, you’ll spend more time huddled by the heater in the gift shop than you will in the actual castle. On the plus side, if you visit Hohenschwangau, you can see some salt and a loaf of bread that was given to Prince Regent Luitpold by the Volga Germans. The bread, at this point, is 115 years old and in remarkably good shape. Evidently, it wasn’t very tasty bread, though, because hardly any of it was actually eaten.

- the distinct lack of easy-access tobogganing in Füssen. Since you have to walk up a huge hill to get to the castle, the least they could do is integrate with the nearby ski resort, and rent you a sled to get back down. Evidently they haven’t gotten this far, though, in tourist development in Füssen. They’re still fairly focused on the castles, I think. The boys and I were forced, instead, to remain unsatisfied with our attempts to sled down a hill near my apartment in Mainz using a pizza box and a plastic Ikea bag.

In other news, Arr! has, sadly, returned home to Phoenix. J! and I have been drinking a lot less since he left, and we miss him terribly. On the other hand, there’s a lot less sausage around the apartment now. I’m hoping that we can entice him back in the spring with promises of biergartens and trips to Sardinia.

Also, I got a cute new pair of shoes.

And, we can now watch German tv. Well, actually, we only get one channel, but I have high hopes. James Bond is on tonight: “Mein Name ist Bond. James Bond.” Pretty soon I’ll be fluent in anything relating to cooking shows and international surveillance.

Mermione and the Colonel, in beautiful Frankfurt am Main.

Papa and I have a chat in lovely Stevenskerk, Nijmegen

Mummy and me!

Oh no! Jesus accidentally left his wallet in Nijmegen!

A gargoyle in Köln with a bit of a nose drip.

One of Marc Mulders' very cool windows. It is hard to see here, but in the top window of the trefoil, there is a fish.

Notice the blue tag on my bag? It reads, "Lost! Need directions!" My brothers evilly conspired against me to place such tags on my bag, at least once a day. So, here we are enjoying a tour of Mainz (where I live!) while I look like schmuck tourist. There are entirely too many pictures like this one from our trip. They triumphed in Nijmegen, where I walked into a store, set off an alarm and the store clerk attempted to demagnetize my bag before I realized they'd struck again. She very politely asked, upon seeing the tag on my bag, if I were returning home that day.

The Praetorium in Köln. The different lights indicate different parts of the building. The yellow light, for example, shows outside walls. The blue lights indicate inner rooms. The part pictured above is only one small segment of the outer wall on the bottom floor of the Praetorium.

The cathedral in Köln.

The Lorelei! See what I mean?

2005-12-23T22:09:00.000+01:00

Merry Christmas!! It is a bit early, I know, but as Arr! and I will be joining the rest of the family in Frankfurt for a cruise up the Rhine River to Amsterdam, I figured I'd write now and wish you all a very happy holiday and a wonderful New Year. In celebration, I thought I'd post my letter from my old friend Father Christmas, who is no doubt a bit busy right now. I wrote to him a while back and he very thoughtfully responded to both me and J!. J! was a bit confused when he got his letter--he couldn't figure out how St. Nicholas had gotten his address.

Ein frohes Weihnachtsfest und alles Gute zum Neuen Jahr!

Even the envelope is cute!

It is hard to see in this picture, but the house behind him has "Post" written on it and the little symbol above the door is the Deutsche Post emblem!

The letter reads:

Dear Darcy [handwritten!]
Wow!! What a wonderful surprise it was today when the doorbell rang and the postman handed me your letter! I read it straight away and really enjoyed it! Because I know how exciting it is to receive letters I am writing back to you at once.
I believe you're looking forward to Christmas as much as I am. We're already counting down the days here. However you need all the time you can get at Christmas--I need every single hour so I can grant the wishes of all the children. Sometimes though even I don't have enough time; although I do try my best! Hopefully you won't be disappointed if you don't get everything you want.
However you can have a small present from me today. I've put some colourful Christmas cards in the envelope for you. I'm sure you have friends and relations who would love a handmade card and a few lines from you! Please don't forget to say hello from Father Christmas as well!!

Oh! The elves are calling me--a heavy new sack full of Christmas lists has just arrived!

I wish you and your family a very special Christmas!

Your old friend,
Father Christmas

2005-12-22T12:24:00.000+01:00

Arr! and I recently enjoyed a lovely jaunt down to Venice, Italy. I'll let Arr! give you all the details of the trip, but for myself, it consisted mostly of trying to figure out where we were and pointing out to my brother all the places I used to buy stuff. Fascinating stuff for him, I'm sure. Actually, it was a great trip and we even made it all the way out to Torcello, which is an island in the lagoon that has the oldest Venetian church and a really beautiful wall mosaic of the last judgement. Torcello also has a tower, so you can climb up and see practically the whole lagoon. We were really lucky--it was so sunny we could see the Dolomites, so the view was amazing. He'll post photos, I'm sure.

Perhaps just as good as visiting Venice, though, was finally getting to experience first-hand the wonders of Ryanair!! When I first arrived, just about everyone I met told me about Ryanair (which I originally thought was spelled Rhineair, since Mainz is along the Rhine River) and the Frankfurt Hahn airport. Ryanair is probably the cheapest European airline--it is the EU's equivalent of Southwest, only even more budgety. The Frankfurt Hahn airport is a.) not anywhere close to Frankfurt, b.) not close to anything, in fact, and c.) tiny. But, it is also Ryanair's major hub, so you can take a flight for basically nothing to practically anywhere. Our flights to Venice cost a grand total of .01 Euro cent. This came to about 40 Euro, after taxes. The flights back were 29.99 Euro each.

There's a good reason for the cheap rates, though. This is an airline where you have to bring your own vomit bag. Actually, I bet they would give you one, but you would have to ask for it because there isn't even a pocket on the back of the seat where they could put one even if they wanted to. This means, unfortunately, no Sky Mall magazine either. That's right--you can't shop at 37,000 feet in the sky for those great fake yard rocks that you've always wanted. But, even better, Ryanaire brings around a cart full of goodies after the beverages and snacks have been served (yep, you have to pay for those, too). They'll sell you a purse, teddy bear, perfume or aftershave and you don't even have to wait 6 weeks for delivery, like Sky Mall! If you don't have room in your carry-on for some eau de toilette, though, you can always participate in Ryanair's on-board gambling. 2 Euro will get you a scratch ticket with a chance to win an Audi TT or flight vouchers. The worst part about this is that once you've bought one, they've hooked you for the flight back since you've already invested money in it. Arr! and I didn't win, but when we entered our super secret codes at www.flytowin.net, we got a $45 credit for PokerParty. All we had to do was give them our bank info . . .

One more thing I really enjoyed about Ryanair--their fabulous safety record. No crashes in 18 years, which is pretty good. I think they must be doing so well because flyers are so well informed about the plane's safety features. Having no seat pockets, they've decided the best place to put the escape route drawings are right on the back of the seat, above the tray table. Exactly at eye-level, I might add. This means that no matter where you stare in the plane, you are bound to be looking at the safety guide. Walking down the aisle, you are confronted with about 120 safety guides staring back at you. So reassuring.

We were only one plane away from an Audi TT!!

2005-12-20T12:59:00.000+01:00

Heidelberg is a gem in Germany's crown of "enchanting towns." According to our many German guidebooks, tourists regularly fall in love with Heidelberg's winding streets, the riverfront and the towering Schloss (castle). Most of the guidebooks, however, fail to mention that Heidelberg also has Germany's most confusing bus system. After finally making it to the Altstadt (which is almost a mile away from the Hauptbahnhof!! Clearly an oversight on the part of medieval Heidelbergians), we walked around the local Weihnachtsmarkt (Christmas Market) and noted that the local handmade crafts sold in the little stalls were surprisingly similar to those found in Mainz, Frankfurt and Weisbaden. Must be a regional thing. Surely they don't just buy all these beeswax candles and tiny nativity scenes from factories in China.

Heidelberg is a truly beautiful city, though. At least, the older section of it is. The town covers both sides of the Neckar River, which makes for a great waterfront, but the highlight is clearly the huge Schloss. The castle sits above the town part way up a tall hill, which is now capped by a large tv tower. The Schloss is no longer inhabited and quite a bit of it is ruins. But, it is nice to see the different stages of building that took place as parts of the castle were destroyed and reubuilt over the centuries. In fact, the castle was, at one point, used as a quarry and much of it was carted down the hill where the stones were used to build houses in the Altstadt.

Apart from a very interesting Apothocary museum, the Schloss is also home to the world's largest wine barrel. The pictures don't really do this barrel justice--the thing was enormous. The curators were very clever, too, in properly setting you up to appreciate the size of the Gross Fass. When you first walk into the hall you see a rather large wine barrel and take a few pictures with it, secretly thinking to yourself "well, it isn't really that big." Then you turn a corner and feel like a fool because the Gross Fass in front of you is so large that it requires its own personal staircase. If you go up the staircase, you'll find a nice little patio area on top of the Gross Fass, where, one imagines, you either perform vinological experiments on the quality, color and aroma of the local brew, or you set up some chairs and tables and have a snack and a chat while sipping wine that came out of the very barrel you're resting on.

My other impressions of Heidelberg: cold. Very, very cold. Especially cold on top of the hill near the tv tower where a horde of Germans were out for a daily constitutional in the Wildpark. We figured the place would be deserted (there being snow on the ground, after all) but we kept having to move off the path to make room for mountain bikers.

The Gross Fass and some guy we don't know, for scale.

J!, Arr! and some girl who walked into the picture.

Heidelberg Schloss

J! and I on Heidelberg's main street.

Beautiful Heidelberg

2005-12-19T22:02:00.000+01:00

Just to let the rest of the DOTDE travel team know: I've happened across a Dogsled Adventure Special just north of Oslo. Two nights, Three Sleds, and 15 dogs all for under $100. The only catch is that we don't get a guide (we do get a map), and we have to provide the food for the dogs (they sell some at the base hut). What do you say?

2005-12-15T22:53:00.000+01:00

As my newly aquired, German national pride-filled, church bell specialist friend told me, "I think Americans are a bit...um...lazy...when it comes to learning other languages", and he's absolutely right because of the simple fact that I get along just fine devolving back to a simpler (yet more universal) form of communication involving grunting and hand waving. I've learned that you can travel around successfully in Germany knowing only one or two German words, and if you don't want to eat anything along the way, it gets infinitely easier.

Things you might want to bring:
Miniature American flag or patch - Just to get it out of the way. Attach it to the front of your shirt where clerks can see it, so they skip unecessarily akward German congenialities and get right to the pointing.
"Big Pimper" T-shirt - Again, give them no reason to actually want to try and communicate with you verbally.
Large denomination bills - You'll see why in a minute.
A good pair of comfortable sneakers - Fast and unimpaired getaways are key here.

The Hbf:
The Hbf stands for Hauptgfn....Hatmanf...Hoffbanff...its a bus station. Not just any bus station mind you, its the bus station, at least for the city that you're in. In the words of a bad metaphor, its like a place where all busses come to a central station, stop, and then leave again. Here lies your first bypass to human interaction, the automated ticket machines (New with English!). From these yellow beauties you can buy a ticket anywhere, provided you can figure out the time, stop, location, bus number, direction, duration of validity and whether or not your teacup poodle is allowed to ride with you, all in the alloted time before they return you to the welcome screen. I like to buy two or three different kinds just to be sure.

The Christmas Market:
This should always be your first stop. If you're like me (you are following my guide aren't you?), it will have taken you no less than three hours to get to this location and it will be around the hour of lunch. This is fortunate for those travelers who like to consume gigantic sausages and alcohol because the dispensation of these two items is primarily what christmas markets are all about. I have for a period of a week now been searching for the wenches but have been disapointed in finding their lack of representation in these festivals. I'll keep you updated on any further progress on that front. Ordering food at these markets can be tricky, so you'll want to follow these directions very precisely. First of all, adjust your American flag according to counter height to assure that it is visible. Secondly, if there are any old people waiting patiently in line (there shouldn't be, this is Germany) you should abandon all notion of politeness and forcefully shove them to the ground. Don't worry, this is normal German custom as far as I can discern and I have not seen a single senior rebound with any real intention of violence. Once you have established yourself as the 'next person' (I hesitate to use that phrase as it has no German equivalent), you should then try and draw as much attention to your flag as possible. I like to pretend I'm scratching my nipple. After the service worker has clearly identified you as a foreigner, then you can proceed by mumbling something ending in "vurst" and making a gesture towards one of the fallic looking objects displayed in front of you. At this point I have found that it is best just to say 'yes' to everything that follows hereafter in order to keep things moving along until the cashier stares at you blankly, a sure sign that it is time to pay. You'll want to complete this transaction with nothing less than a 50 Euro bill just to be safe. This will not only prevent you from having to let them take the money from your billfold themselves but also you will have medium sized bills with which to buy postcards later on. Repeat this process for any combination of alcoholic Christmas beverages that you desire.

The Bite and Sprint:
You might be tempted to sit down at a bench or stand at one of the tables nearby, and while this seems like a leisurely way to enjoy the festive atmosphere, it could be disastrous. Tightly rolled sausages have a tendancy to shoot supersonic streams of steaming hot grease directly into the unblinking eyeballs of German rugby players, so you'll want to remain highly mobile.

The Cathedral:
Every Christmas Market is located at the doorsteps of one or more local cathedrals or churches. This is fortunate because not only does it provide a sanctuary from half blinded adrenaline junkies, it is also quite a breathtaking place to enjoy your food coma. Now is a good time to pray that your pursuer gets his other eye squeeged by some unwary tourist less informed than yourself.

The Museum:
If you're not exhausted yet from your leisurely trip into town, you might want to visit a museum. Every habitation, be it village or metropolis, has a historical museum. These museums offer an interesting look into the...well...history of the city. If you enjoy looking at the progression of maps through out various stages then these are exploratory goldmines filled with seemingly informative and well written plaques, often in German.

2005-12-15T14:45:00.000+01:00

So just when I thought English was a little secret between me, my friends, and my family on the phone, I'm back in Massachusetts for two weeks hanging out with the almost-forgotten but primarily-English speaking world. I might actually go hang around train stations and bus stops successfully asking questions and successfully getting answers, just to practice...

But before I get to here, let's consider the great international service offered up by Air France: after consuming one French beer, a glass of white wine, a salmon and tri-colored pasta entree, chocolate mousse, and a blueberry muffin, I played a few video games (Chess and Caveman Crash), caught up on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (it was nicely bizarre, but a little unsatisfying with all that dentist garbage), and read a little Mayer. I heard they might even clear out a few rows for a dance floor on my New Year's Eve return.

On the homefront, WestMass might get another winter storm tonight and my parents have been doing the Snow Dance since yesterday. I'm hoping to catch a basketball game while here (for the drama and side stories, of course), and I'll be heading up to Mass MOCA to report on a few German artists hanging on the walls.

Early signs from D and Arr! say that they'll be heading to Venice this weekend, so I'm sure they'll send something on that front. And then, on my return, the three of us will trip it on the first full weekend of January. My vote goes towards flying North and mushing on some dog sleds for a couple days, though the Californians would rather experience quaint Italian island life. What do you think (and do you know of any two day European dog sledding adventures for three people, for under a total of $100)?

2005-12-12T23:01:00.000+01:00

I consider myself extremely fortunate that D and J have allowed me to grace the digital pages of dotde during my stay here in Mainz. My intentions aren't anything so self-indulgent as to believe that the rabid readers of this blog are frothing at the mouth to view the scraps of information I might record about our travels through out Germany, but rather are to keep you updated on various situations in which I embarass myself. I hope you enjoy my shame.

2005-12-06T23:14:00.000+01:00

Very few events convince me to skip my weekly ultimate practice. In case you're in town:

"Thursday, December 8, 2005

Evening Reading: Lomo-Buchbar, Ballplatz, Mainz, 19h

Rachel Blau DuPlessis, Carla Harryman, Rodrigo Toscano, Barrett Watten

"Language Spaces: Postmodern Poetry und Performance Art"

Four American "language-centered" poets/performers will present their recent work."

2005-11-25T11:39:00.000+01:00

Happy Thanksgiving! Here's wishing you all a wonderful day with family and friends!

As if to help us expats celebrate in style, Mainz thoughtfully opened the Christmas market a few days early this year and it snowed! The early opening had more to do with a televised Christmas opera (which necessitated a festive backdrop) than Thanksgiving, but nothing reminds you to go xmas shopping like snow!! And it is very pretty snow, too--very white and clean.

The snow and Gluehwein have pretty much inaugurated the Christmas season, so if you haven't started making your list, you had better get on it! And even better than circulating it among friends and family, you can send your Briefumschlag directly to St. Nick! You have a couple of options for this, depending on your particular beliefs concerning Santa's residence.

the North Pole: If you prefer an old-fashioned, hand-written note, here's the address for you: Santa, North Pole. On the other hand, if you have less time to spend crafting such a missal, you can also email him at any number of websites, including EmailSanta.com

Himmelpfort: or, "Heaven's Gate." Most German children address their letters to St. Nicholas at Weihnachtsmann, Weihnachtspostfiliale, 16798 Himmelpfort. In fact, St. Nicholas is in cahoots with Deutsche Post these days, so you can even find a personal note from him on their website:

Santa's Letter

And the best part about mailing a letter to Himmelpfort is that you are guaranteed a reply back. Santa, world traveler that he is, will respond in Bulgarian, Czech, Danish, English, French, German, Italian, Lithuanian, Polish, Portuguese, Russian and Spanish, Japanese, Dutch and Hungarian.

2005-11-24T22:47:00.000+01:00

Thanksgiving here at Dotde gives us time to reflect on how rare sweet potatoes are in Germany. So much so that I, after being asked, spent several minutes in class today talking about the different ways to cook them into delicious meals. This mostly meant that I repeated "Uhh, whatever you can do with a potato, you can do with a sweet potato" several times because their practical knowledge of pie is still limited at these early stages of their language instruction. And I wasn't very equipped to draw a casserole on the board, nevermind ready to talk about the greater nutritional benefits of the sweet stuff.

But, apparently, sweet potatoes are starting to inch their way onto the German Billboard Vegetable charts (if you just happen to be interested in vegetables AND music, consider sweet potatoes right around the Billboard Music's rank of The Regis Philbin Christmas Album--a couple spaces below butternut squash).

Unfortunately, Thanksgiving is as rare in Germany as the vegetable that makes this holiday a delight for us here at Dotde. However, that doesn't mean we can't wish a wonderful day for our reading audience in Davis, Phoenix, Portland, Western Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Philadelphia, and wherever you may find yourself today.

Covet those SPs.

2005-11-21T21:11:00.000+01:00

D's most recent "Street or Sidewalk" challenge reminded me of this photograph I took a couple weeks ago on the first day of Karnival--the first and only day Mainz'll have until lent. Hence all the trash on the ground in both pictures. Apparently there was quite a parade earlier in the day, or so I hypothesize. I took this picture not to share Karnival with you readers around the world. Rather, when I passed this location earlier in the day on the bus to work, I bore witness to an enormous duck gracing the Platz. Of course, when I reported the existence of this duck back to D, she didn't believe me. Much like she doesn't believe my armchair hypotheses about truffle-hunting dogs and the dominance of German architecture's use of steel and glass.

And yes, while I admit those are completely armchair, I do know when I see an enormous duck sitting in a city. And when I say enormous, I mean it towered up until the 3rd floor of the building you're looking at. Imagine yourself showering in the third floor bathroom and opening a window afterwards to let steam escape (so as not to establish a mold colony in your most frequented room). Now imagine, upon opening such a window, a gigantic duck staring at your sparsely towelled body...

Where has the bird gone? I don't know (it really couldn't fit in that truck, as much as it rhymes with duck). Maybe we'll see it again in the new year. Until then, keep an eye out for me. There's a certain D who finds this hard to believe.

2005-11-21T21:00:00.000+01:00

December Events: Dotde.blogspot.com

For those readers based around the world, your correspondents at dotde.blogspot.com would like to let you know of events that are in the near future. T-shirts and signed portraits may be available at many of the locations listed below.

12/2/05-12/3/05 -- J! will be on the road in Münster, playing in an ultimate with a local Mainzer team. Though he hears there are some great cathedrals there, he'll probably run around and sleep in a gym for two nights, only venturing into the parking lot on the way out.

12/7/05 -- Arrr, D's brother (and a pirate's favorite), flies in for a month in beautiful Germany. While destinations have yet to be selected, J!, D, and Arr might travel outside the Mainz vicinity, possibly to stay a night somewhere (gasp) else. This also provides a brief period of time when J! won't necessarily have the worst German in the country. Though this might not actually occur, if Arrr already knows "Bitte" and "Danke."

12/14/05-12/31/05 -- Again, Dotde's J! will travel back across the Atlantic for two weeks in Western Massachusetts. Check back during this period to read updates on his short reintegration into the English-speaking world.

12/23/05 -- The entire I family, including those T's (minus R-Co), fly into Frankfurt for a crip winter cruise up the Rhine. What will happen when natives of Phoenix mingle with icicles? How soon until one blurts out "Ich bin kalt!"? Revisit Dotde during this seven day trip to read up on their adventures, if, of course, D's fingers nimble up a bit to make this a possibility.

2005-11-21T20:46:00.000+01:00

Yet another exciting installment of Street or Sidewalk!! This week's selection is a bit tricker . . .

(cue Jeopardy music here)

2005-11-21T20:32:00.000+01:00

Things I Like about Germany, List #1

1. When I withdraw money from an ATM, I get a variety of denominations, instead of all 20s.
2. Everytime I go grocery shopping at Tenglemann's, the cashier gives me little heart stickers.
3. I can buy a bus ticket in Mainz for Berlin, which is 350 miles away.
4. Lebkuchen--xmas gingerbread cookies.
5. Xmas markets, with lots of spiced wine.
6. If I'm not home and DHL wants to deliver a package, instead of holding it at the postoffice, the carrier will deposit it at a "Packstation" and leave me a notice. I can then go pick it up whenever I want. I just have to flash the barcode in front of the scanner and a small door will mysteriously open, with my package waiting.
7. Apfelschorle. I can't figure out why they haven't exported this to the US, yet. It is like really good Martinellis, only not carbonated. Kind of. Plus, you can buy it in vending machines.

2005-11-13T16:05:00.000+01:00

So, most towns and cities in Europe have what is called (in German, at least) the "Altstadt," or "old town." This city center typically consists of the "historic district"--that is, the oldest buildings, or alternatively, the oldest buildings which were reconstructed after one of the world wars. The historic centers are usually conveniently placed somewhat near the local train station (but not so close that train station undesirables get in the way of the tourists) and paved with cobblestones, thus giving the impression that the city must date back to at least the age of Charlemagne. In many cases, the Altstadt is closed to everything but foot traffic and bicycles--no buses, cars, trams or trains allowed.

Mainz has a really lovely Altstadt that has been well preserved, despite having been basically obliterated in the Second World War by American bombs. It is perhaps a bit ironic that neighboring town Wiesbaden, which was left mostly untouched by air raids, is now home to a large American military base. Local legend has it that the Americans in fact purposefully decided to leave Wiesbaden alone so that they would have a nice place to occupy after the war. One of the curiousities about the Mainz Altstadt, however, is that only some parts of it are "pedestrian only." In general, when walking around downtown, you have to keep a sharp eye out; you may believe you are strolling along what appears to be an ancient and deserted thoroughfare, admiring the soaring architecture and soaking up the culture, when in fact you are actually blocking traffic and infuriating bus drivers. To help you all to experience this vicariously, you can play a fun game called "Street or Sidewalk?" We'll start with an easy one:

Ha! you scoff! d, what are talking about? There are people milling all over the place! A man walks with his infant child enconsed in a large stroller. That woman in the black coat, with her daughter, strolls along with no intention of moving to a "curb." Why, if this were a street, would those large tents be placed along the edge of it, thus forcing passers-by into the "street" and congesting traffic? Besides, you might say, this is enlightened Europe, where people walk all the time--no city would place a major street so close to its historic district and central church, the lofty Dom in the background.

Actually, you'd be wrong. Careful observers will note the whitish concrete band that clearly demarcates street from sidewalk. Yes, folks, this is a street. If that woman in black had stayed in the middle of it for much longer, she'd have been side-swiped by the five buses that zoomed passed minutes later. In fact, this is such a busy street that J! and I had to stand there for about 10 minutes before we could get a photo of it without buses. Don't believe me?

Notice the pair of guys crossing the street, regardless of the fact that they are about to get squished between two enormous buses? This is another fun game you can play in European cities--Chicken. I always lose--the bus drivers here are by and large friendly and helpful, but it only takes one who has been driving all day in a bad mood to reduce me to a small American spot on a street/sidewalk. Besides, being hit by a bus would get my white coat all dirty.

2005-11-12T22:02:00.000+01:00

Happy Birtday, Sister M!

Love, J!

(German treats coming soon (they wouldn't let me ship the alcohol!)--you'll be glad to know that you shared your birthday with *Sandwich Day!!!* here in Mainz)

2005-11-06T11:19:00.000+01:00

Funny when someone from your new company signs you up for their early holiday celebration, and you have no idea what it is. You're driven out to the German countryside, and find yourself touring the castle-ish type residence of a coworker, having a glass sekt put in your hand, and then tasting seven or so of the thirty wines they make on site.

It's not like I could find my way back, nor have I the means or the means to do so. But it was a wonderfully disorientating and unpredictable trip.

2005-10-30T16:59:00.000+01:00

Heute ist Mantelsonntag! Coat Sunday, for those English speakers frequenting dotde. Of course, D and I didn't know this until we were scared away from a local breakfast buffet. After wandering around Mainz to find something to eat, we settled down at a cafe near the Mainzer Dom (English here) only to discover quite a festival going on. And by "quite a festival," I mean hundreds of people drinking fresh wine and local beer after
10:00 mass. Thus began our adventure with Coat Sunday,
which included the overconsumption of Nutella (D) along with a few nibbles at some healthy chestnuts, roasted on the spot (J!). And of course, D felt it necessary to participate with a new purchase (picture, right). For those of you close to D, you may remarking aloud, "White!?! D, do you know what'll happen with white!" But let's remember the importance of this purchase by a Californian with little past use for a warm accommodations. So despite the threat of spills, we decided to go for it. Especially since she'll be back at Davis in a year, and who needs a coat there anyway? Nevermind a dirty one, at that.

So let's look at this as a moment less as a potential for disaster, but rather as one which may result in great personal growth. Afterall, it does look so wonderful, right?

2005-10-20T19:04:00.000+02:00

J! and I have been looking forward for months now to the Frankfurt International Book Fair. Frankfurt is just a short train trip away and the Book Fair is, I believe, the largest in the world. You can imagine how exciting this is for a poet and a literature grad student. So, we get to a lonely looking conference center Sunday afternoon, only to discover that we’ve actually come a week early. Probably the worst part is that we’d been telling everyone we know about our impending trip to the book fair, so now for the rest of the week we’ve had to admit that we have difficulty reading the small print.

Well, since we couldn’t go to the book festival, we decided to visit the Museum for Modern Art. I don’t know much about their permanent collection, but the current exhibition is great. The curators bought a ton of objects off of ebay and put them in the museum, complete with the original descriptions posted by the vendors. The exhibit ranges from old postcards and photos to a lock of Napoleon’s hair. My personal favorites were the “Vintage Shakespeare Glass Minnow Trap: Patent Pending,” a small vial of “NIAGRA FALLS WATER! WEDDING ANNIVERSARY GIFT SOUVENIR. WATER GUARANTEED TO HAVE FLOWED OVER NIAGARA FALLS!” and a pair of “mysterious batteries.” Also, the building itself is really beautiful. It was designed by an architect named Hans Hollein, who I think must have been a fan of M. C. Esher.

The description for the “mysterious batteries”:

I acquired these batteries while on a trip in Japan 6 years ago. I had originally bought them for my camera, which I used during the entire trip. About six months after returning home, not thinking of it at the time, I finally realized that I had never replaced the batteries in the camera, which was still in frequent use. I took them out of the camera, & put them in my Walkman. I couldn’t believe they were still working. Over the next 5 years these batteries have become a mystery to me, my friends and family. I have used them in the TV remote, flashlight, mp3 player and many other things. To everyone’s amazement, they are still at full charge. I have 4 of these batteries, but I can only part with 2. I can’t guarantee that they will last forever, but they have seemed to amaze my family and I over the years. I hope they can give you what they’ve given us.

They're so mysterious!

The enormous poster that finally clued us in.
Notice the date, “writ large.”

A few of the many staircases in the museum.

Downtown Frankfurt.

2005-10-15T12:31:00.000+02:00

J! here, hoping to inform you of the *real* *new* *strange* and *bizarre* customs and cultures we encounter in our travel ventures through and around the world. And even though we're mostly settled here in D-Land, this first installment will take us all the way back to the high plains of Northern Conneticut and the *real* *new* *strange* and *bizarre* greeting habits of the local inhabitants. Many thanks to my father, whose frequent trips into this territory as "Knowledge Trader" led to our exposure to the "Bap 'N Tap."

You may already be familiar with certain aspects of the "Bap N' Tap," a lightening quick conglomeration of techniques often exhibited in both adolescent sports and thumb wars. As a two step process, let's follow the illustrations:

Step One, the "Bap:"

Simple enough, right? Experienced practitioners of this salutation will tell you all about how this first stage of the "Bap 'N Tap" is a teaser for the more complex and visually engaging motion of the "Tap." This congratulatory contact often goes by the names of "Jam Hand," "Pound City," and "Rock Talk." In these simpler forms of expressions, there are disadvantages abound. Oftentimes, one attempts to make fist contact only to realize that the accomplice is approaching with a "High Five," resulting in an awkward flesh connection of palm and knuckle (closely resembling how Paper defeats Rock). In those cultures that primarily practice the "Bap 'N Tap," there are no such worries--as the multifaceted form of expression is the predictable mainstay of the region.

Step Two, the "Tap:"

And now you must realize the amount of finesse necessary for such an expression. Of course, this medium does not lend itself to show the full motion--the "'N" that springs between the "Bap" and the "Tap." But a close observer may notice how the fist must rotate several degrees, and the thumb must extend quickly and accurately enough to collide with the adjacent thumb. Mind you, this is not a slow motion, but a lightening fast gesture indicative of the emotion that this intensity and precision is mean to represent. When first exposed, outsiders may gasp at the breathtaking combination, as children gasp at their first exposure to fireworks. The "Bap" an explosion that lights up the skyline, the "Tap" all the glitter, before disappearing, flickering toward ground.

Dotde signing off on another installment of *new* *real* *strange* and *bizarre* customs and cultures from around the world.

2005-10-14T18:19:00.000+02:00

We passed by this store today. Imagine--a whole store just for table tennis enthusiasts. If anyone needs some new grip tape or a ping pong jersey, just let me know.

2005-10-10T18:09:00.000+02:00

Below are some pics of the apartment here in Mainz. The apartment is actually part of an enormous house that was converted into several apartments. It’s a nice area—lots of trees and parks—and running in between the streets, along the “backside” of the houses are little bike/walking paths. Plus, we even have a local pub! J! and I stopped in last week and had a few beers. There weren’t that many people in it, especially given that it was a Saturday night. As far as we can tell, it consisted mostly of the bartender, an old man and his equally old date, and a group of 40-something men who were amusing themselves with a game that seemed to entail hitting a tree stump with a hammer and then shouting loudly. We’re not too clear on the rules or how you win, though. At one point, a guy got a little out of control with the hammer and the bartender had to go calm him down. Is it just me or does it seem like a bad idea to regularly mix hammers and beer?

J!, glutting himself on our new internet connection.

the dining room/study

Can you find the refrigerator?

The neighbors we spy on from the balcony.

2005-10-01T18:09:00.000+02:00

How do you say, "Can I get a visa" auf Deutsch?

So, we arrived safe and sound in Mainz after a considerable amount of Drammamine and some difficulties with the customs officials in Iceland. J! and I were actually very excited about our stopover in Iceland. Neither of us have ever been and in fact, on the way back, we’ll be spending a few days there. For this flight, however, we were only supposed to be in the airport for about an hour before our connecting flight to Frankfurt took off. As it turns out, you have to have a visa if you are planning to stay in Germany for more than three months. Both the university here in Mainz and Berlitz told J! and I that the visa wouldn’t be a problem—we’d simply have it all arranged when we arrived here. Ha! Germany was completely fine with this but the guards in Iceland were very worried. Very nice, but a little concerned. We had to sit in a hallway for about forty minutes while the guards called immigration services and a lawyer to make sure that they could send us along. Luckily it all worked out and now we have some lovely Icelandic stamps in our passports. One thing I will say—Iceland has a beautiful language and the guards spoke perfect English. The main guard helping us out told us he visited Los Angeles one time but he didn’t like it at all—it was too crowded.

Mainz is a great town—lots of nice, old historic buildings but not so historic that they make the city unlivable for everyone else. My apartment is actually in a suburb of Mainz, called Mombach, that is about a ten minute bus ride from the Hauptbahnhof (train station) in the center of town. So far we haven’t toured too much, most of our time being taken up by paperwork kinds of things (like visas), but the historic district is really lovely. We already found the natural foods store, which as far as I can tell simply seems to be more expensive than other food stores, and there’s a terrible Chinese restaurant about two blocks away from the Hauptbahnhof. We’ve also discovered that it is almost impossible to locate men’s slippers, unless you care to buy the kind that are made for really old men who never wear anything but slippers, even when they go out to walk their old man dogs.

2005-09-24T18:04:00.000+02:00

So, J!’s wardrobe consists mostly of t-shirts he bought at a store in Chicopee called “Savers” and so a lot of the stuff he wears has some sort of affiliation with a local high school athletics team (for example, Hingham High PE Staff). For his job with Berlitz, however, he’ll need some more professional clothes. Luckily, J!’s dad bought an amazing wool suit twenty-five years ago that he never wore, and dragged out of the closet last week. Who would have guessed that it would fit him perfectly!! Plus, his dad had this sweet leather coat that weighs at least 10 pounds.

Indiana J!.

2005-09-23T17:49:00.000+02:00

One of J!’s friends from CTY now lives on Cape Cod and works at the Wood’s Hole Oceanographic Institute. We went out to visit him for a few days and got a grand tour of the Institute, Wood’s Hole, and Martha’s Vineyard. RR’s a fun guy to hang around with and even better, he knows all the best restaurants in town. Wood’s Hole is a really cute part of some town that begins with an “L”—I can’t remember what it was called. Martha’s Vineyard was nice—I think it is probably a great place to visit if you can spend a whole day there, biking around and maybe bird watching. Some great boutiques, too, but not quite my style. The highlights of Martha’s Vineyard were definitely the beadniks store and the cooking demonstration we stuck around for. If you can, go to the Zepherus restaurant—the chef was amazing (I think his name was Brian). I’ve put below his recipe for a delicious green bean salad.

for six:

2 handfuls of haricot vert
(fancy French green beans,
but probably regular green beans would also taste lovely).

3 peppers—one red, one orange, one yellow

1 red onion

½ cup truffle oil

½ cup extra virgin olive oil

salt (preferably coarse) and pepper to taste

Blanch the green beans and then chill them in the refrigerator. Julienne the peppers. Just a tip: slice off the inside part of the pepper—the part that looks like tiny bubbles. According to the chef, what will be left is all the stuff with the flavor. The colors will be much more vibrant, as well, and the slices of pepper will be smaller. Slice the onion, French style (halve the onion and cut out the tiny yellow center; place the onion with the flat side down and cut at an angle, down to the center--this will make your onion slices evenly sized). Mix together the peppers, onion and green beans in a large bowl and pour over them your truffle oil and olive oil. Make sure the vegetables are evenly coated and then serve when ready.

My first east coast lighthouse!

RR and J-Ro, together again!

View of Wood's Hole, from the lighthouse.

2005-09-21T17:37:00.000+02:00

The Highlights, part drei

Miss Emily’s House:

J!’s a big fan of the Belle of Amherst—not so much of her poetry, but mostly because she was so odd. I think he rather likes the idea of being an eccentric poet in an old moldy house. For Dickinson fans it doesn’t get much better than Amherst (kind of obvious, since the only other place she ever went to was Boston). We cruised by the house to see if tours were available, but there seemed to be A Gathering in the parlor. We decided to give the horde of middle-aged, Miss Emily fans a skip and instead we toured around her garden a bit and then walked into Amherst itself.

Miss Emily and Robert Frost chatting together under a tree.
Guess she’s not as shy as she used to be.

Two poets, sharing a special moment.

Mt. Holyoke greenhouses:

I’m a sucker for greenhouses and these ones are particularly nice. The collection isn’t huge, or even that great, but the actual greenhouses themselves are quite old and so they are fun to walk through. Plus, not only are the greenhouses free for visitors but Mt. Holyoke has a lovely collection of orchids, the keepers will give you a free plant, and they have a mimosa pudica, or “sensitive plant.” This little plant, like a Venus Fly-trap, will move if it is touched. We spent some time stroking the leaves and watching it shy away.

The mimosa pudica, after J! pet its leaves.

2005-09-20T17:28:00.000+02:00

The Highlights, Continued

Mt. Monadnock:

According to the inside of the bathroom door at the state park, Mt. Monadnock is the most climbed mountain in the world. Mt. Fuji used to hold this distinction but as it turns out, so many people now arrive at the top of Mt. Fuji by car, bus, or other means that Mt. Monadnock is now number 1. I can’t tell if the park rangers are proud of this fact or if they think too many people climb the mountain who shouldn’t. There were signs all over the place explaining how one should always take things like water and a long sleeved shirt while hiking. It is a great mountain to hike, though—the lower half of it is covered with trees, which I’m sure must be beautiful in the fall when the colors begin to emerge, and then up above the tree line you can enjoy a great view of the entire valley. I was told that on a clear day you can see six states from Mt. Monadnock. I confess, however, that we didn’t reach the top. Not because we got tired but we started a bit late and we were worried that there wouldn’t be enough light to see by when we got down near the bottom of the hill. Too bad we didn’t bring a light—but really, the signs only mentioned water and jackets, not flashlights.

At least forty minutes worth of the
climb looks just like this.

Some pretty lakes.

2005-09-19T17:21:00.000+02:00

Conneticut River Valley

J!’s parents live in what is known as the Connecticut River Valley in a tiny town called Chicopee. Chicopee is nice—parks, brick school, good donut shops, and most of J!’s relatives have, at one point or another, lived there. This makes touring especially fun, because J!’s parents can point out all the houses where relatives/cousins used to live but no longer do, or where they still live but why those cousins are no longer on speaking terms. I don’t think Chicopee is especially small, but it does seem like everyone around here could play the six-degrees game via J!’s family. For example, the lady at Costco, who sold J! a new pair of glasses, just bought a house from a cousin of his mother’s, whose father gave the cousin the house but now lives next door. And also, the Costco lady didn’t like J!’s mother’s cousin’s mother. See what I mean?

There are a lot of small colleges around this area so we had fun touring all the college towns. J!’s parents had a great time driving me around, showing me all the little country roadside stands where one can buy local produce. It seems like every family owned dairy in the area has cashed in on the home-made ice cream market. Naturally, we had to stop and sample the local fare. Let me tell you, there’s nothing like snacking on a huge waffle cone full of delicious coconut ice-cream while breathing in the fresh aroma of the very cows that produced your tasty treat. Yum!

The Highlights

Paper City Brewing Company:

Paper City Brewing Co. isn’t really the best microbrew in the Springfield area. For that, according to several locals, you should look to Berkshire Brewing Co (BBC). My own personal favorite while I was a guest in Western Mass. was the Wachussets Blueberry Ale, which I highly suggest. But back to Paper City. The best thing about it, really, is that PCBC hosts a Friday night happy hour of sorts in an old factory in Holyoke, MA, on the eighth floor. For $5 (or $4 and a non-perishable food item) you get a plastic cup and as much of whatever they have on draft as you can handle between 6 and 8. After that, you can go back to drinking BBC at some other bar in town.

Souper Bowl:

Yeah, this is a soup place. As far as I know they also make some salads and maybe a sandwich or two but mostly it is just soup. This place opened when J! was a sophomore in college at UMASS. He went there often enough that when we went there last week to get some soup they still remembered him, even though he’s been on the West coast for two years now. The corn chowder is great.

Eric Carle Museum:

When Eric Carle was out in Davis for a book signing J! and I went--along with every child between the ages 2 and 8--to get our copies of The Hungry, Hungry Caterpillar signed. When he finished autographing J!’s book, Mr. Carle looked up at my boyfriend and said, “so, you grew up with the caterpillar?” Such a sweet old man. Anyway, the museum has a lovely selection from Eric Carle’s personal collection in one of the galleries. The other gallery rotates, usually showcasing a well-known children’s book illustrator for about two months. I admit though, that much as I enjoyed the galleries, the bathroom was my favorite. I can’t speak for the little poet’s room (as J! calls it) but in the little scholar’s room, some of the tiles were decorated with animals from Eric Carle books and there was even a step stool so that tiny girls could reach the sink to wash their hands.

2005-09-14T00:45:00.000+02:00

Granger, IN to Niagra Falls, NY to someplace outside Rochester, NY

I admit it--I thought Niagara Falls was going to be an highly overrated tourist trap. I also thought it was mostly going to be tall and skinny. I was completely wrong, I happily admit. Touristy, yes, but justifiably so. Cool things I learned about Niagara Falls: they keep getting bigger over the geological eons and in fact a huge chunk on the American side dropped off a few decades ago (there's a great photo of a lone tree that hung onto the edge of the Falls for a month before toppling over); a lot of ice builds up at the base of the Falls every year and in fact one year the Falls themselves completely froze; on the Canadian side a large boat got too close to the Falls and had to sink itself--you can still see it in the middle of the river; a while back the Army Corps diverted the water to go over the Canadian side and completely stopped the American Falls; finally, lots and lots of people have tightrope walked/jumped over the Falls--I thought it was only one or two but I was way off. I would have loved to have seen that. Actually, I'd love to see the Falls in the winter, too. This was our last stop on the Test Drive, which was fortunate because J! and I were both pretty tired, at this point. Also, the mini Niagara falls in the car every time we turned right or left was becoming extremely annoying, especially as it got worse. As a follow up--it turned out the drainage tube was blocked. J!'s dad unblocked it without too much trouble, but unfortunately he couldn't dodge the deluge quite fast enough and ended up with a week's worth of old air conditioner water on his shoulder. Gross. Our final campground was also a KOA near the Finger Lakes in NY. Pretty nice campground but way overpriced, at least for a tent site. If you are a serious KOA fan, on the other hand, this is the place for you--a stocked pond, paddle boats, and a diner. Also, you can rent a go-cart if you are willing to pay the steep $10 per half-hour fee. Go crazy.

So, that was the Test Drive. On the whole, I'd say the Honda did pretty well--held all our stuff and the only problems we had were with the air conditioning. Also, no one ripped us off and the car didn't get stolen. We didn't even find out until a couple of days after we got to J!'s parents' home that the clutch was about to go. Fortunately by that time J! had already sold it back to his dad.

J!, enjoying the hurricane deck.

Niagara Falls--the American side
(looking towards Canada).

Again, the American side (looking towards
the US/Canada bridge).

Lovely Canada, in the background.

2005-09-13T00:28:00.000+02:00

Kanakee, IL to Chicago, IL, to Granger, IN

number of free tix received: 2; number of miniature rooms witnessed: about 20; number of times we walked around the same block looking for the entrance to the art institute: 3; number of towels used to soak of air conditioning water from the floorboards of the car: 1.

Chicago seems like a very cool city--I'm afraid we were only able to see about six city blocks worth, but hey, that gives us an excuse to go back! On the other hand, the worst traffic on our 2500 mile long trip came in Chicago, which was a bit of a downer. The Art Institute was nice--not my favorite art museum but the Thorne collection of miniature rooms was great. Plus, we didn't even have to pay to see the artworks--the museum was hosting an exhibit on Tolouse-Latrec and Montmarte and a nice woman whose two friends couldn't make it gave us their tix. That was really about all we saw of Chicago. Granger, IN, on the other hand, we toured extensively, which wasn't hard given that it consists of about 1 street. Cute town, though--right near South Bend, IN, which is home to Notre Dame. There’s a good brew pub in Mishawaka that’s worth the visit—Mishawaka Brewing Co.

Millenium Park, Chicago

Guess who designed this bad boy . . .

2005-09-12T00:08:00.000+02:00

Lake of the Ozarks State Park, MO to Kanakee, IL

number of free tix received: 2; number of creepy campgrounds encountered: 1 (total at this point: 3); number of runs scored by St. Louis Cardinals: 2; number of runs scored by NY Mets: 7.

Illinois was kind of boring. I'm sure it is a fabulous state and there's lots of fun stuff to do there, but in all honesty, it was boring to drive through. On the upside, J! called his parents to find out if the Cardinals were in town and as they were playing the Mets and Martinez was pitching we decided to catch the game. Just to make J!'s dad feel better, we parked in a really dingy part of town near the stadium, put on our Red Sox hats to make sure all those Cardinals fans knew what was up, and went to the stadium to find out about tix. As we were standing in line, a nice man from ballpark services (he must not have seen our hats, I think) gave us free tix! So lovely. We got great seats--next to a lady who was such a fan that she was carrying around baseballs to be autographed.

Our original plan was to stay about an hour outside of Chicago in Chebanse, IL, at a KOA there, then to drive into Chicago the next day. Of course, when planning this trip back in Phoenix, we hadn't expected to go to a baseball game in St. Louis, which meant we were a bit late in getting to Chebanse. Around 11 we finally saw the sign for the campground on the freeway, exited and drove five miles east (a bit of a surprise for us as we'd been used to camping about five yards away from the interstate). Finally, some peace and quiet out in the country! As a disclaimer for my next comment--I'm sure, in daylight, the KOA in Chebanse, IL is a lovely, child-friendly kind of place where puppies delight in prancing around and no one ever gets mad. At eleven at night, however, this is the Bates Motel of KOAs. We pulled in and espied a flickering light on the top floor. Looking back, it probably read "Welcome tired campers!" or something equally harmless, but at the time we were both fairly convinced that it was a human skull. And also there was some kind of skeleton dressed up in a KAO t-shirt. But maybe they were just decorating early for Halloween. Anyway, we pulled in and backed out again in about 30 seconds and found a Motel 6 a half-hour up the Interstate.

Yeah, Martinez!

Huge Cross #2!
This one was more impressive--it even
included the 14 stations of the cross and
the scene at Golgatha with the theives.

Our Motel 6 bathroom counter came
conveniently equipped with a bottle opener
for those times when you want to
wash your hands while you drink a beer.

2005-09-10T23:47:00.000+02:00

Twin Bridges State Park, OK to Lake of the Ozarks State Park, MO

number of bats encountered: 1. number of minutes spent building our first campfire: approx. 60; number of minutes spent enjoying our first campfire: 30; number of times I stalled out while practicing driving stick shift in the campground loop: 3; number of minutes I drove during the Test Drive: 20; number of leftover logs we stored in the car for the rest of the trip but never used: 1.

Lake of the Ozarks is really, really beautiful and I wish we could have spent more time there. It was a short drive from Twin Bridges, so we arrived in the early afternoon. This left enough time to take a tour of the Ozark Cavern, which I highly suggest. I'd never been in a cavern before and this was a good one to start out with. A few tidbits from the tour: Ozark Cavern contains a unique natural phenomenon: Angel Falls. Water drips out from the ceiling of the cavern and drips down to the bottom. Over the years minerals in the water have built up and created Angel Falls, which looks a little like a shower head dripping into a basin. Rock formations like Angel Falls are very rare--there are, I think, 14 known formations around the world and only 4 in North America. Most of the cavern looks like Angel Falls--mineral deposits that appear soft and silky and curve into little spouts all over the place. Another cool aspect of Ozark Cavern is the fact that it has been used and explored for so long that there are still remnants from early spelunkers. In the 19th century, a man crawled through the cavern (using most likely a candle or flame lantern) and actually signed his name on one of the cavern walls. He's not alone--many others have also left a signature, but his is the oldest. What's more, you can still see it on the cave wall. As water dripped over his signature, it created veil of mineral deposit that is still so thin that it is translucent and you can read what he wrote. Wish I had a picture of that, but at this point in the tour the guide made us all turn out our lanterns so that the cave was completely dark. I pretty much forgot about the photo op at that point.

Bonus: it was at the Lake of the Ozarks that we noticed the air conditioner started spitting frigid cold water onto my feet every time J! made a left turn and onto his feet every time he made a right turn. J!'s father seemed unconcerned: when called about the problem he simply advised his son to avoid turning right.

Old Testaments--New Prices!

J! gets ready to spelunk.

Angel Falls

Lake of the Ozarks, MO

2005-09-09T23:22:00.000+02:00

Elk City, OK to Twin Bridges State Park, OK

number of state campgrounds avoided (total): 3; number of touchdowns scored by the Rangers: 0; number of members on the Rangers team: 10; number of cheerleaders for the Rangers: 15.

I loved Oklahoma. Granted, before this trip, I knew nothing at all about most of the middle states, but I was really surprised by Oklahoma. Northern Oklahoma was full of green, rolling hills with some lovely little towns. And Oklahoma City was wonderful--I've never been in such a clean downtown. They must sweep it about twelve times a day. In case you haven't been, I highly suggest the very cool botanical gardens (in a huge glass cylinder which is suspended above a man-made pond and surrounded by a public park) and the new public library. The art museum is also worth a visit--the Chihuly installation there is beautiful. On the flip side, the National Cowboy museum is a bit of a disappointment unless you want to see John Wayne's horse, stuffed.

So, originally we'd planned on staying in Bernice, OK, which is a campground on the Grand Lake O' the Cherokees but since we'd been having bad luck with actual campgrounds we decided to give it a skip and stay at Twin Bridges, which was closer to the Interstate and would therefore require less driving if we ended up backtracking. Twin Bridges is a tiny little campground near the town of Seneca, MO, which is right on the OK/MO border. We were very excited about visiting Seneca since it was a Friday night and really, there's nothing like a small town Friday night football game. As it turns out, the high school team was playing somewhere else that evening, but we did catch the first half of an 8 man game between the local Christian high school and some out of town visitors. The Rangers weren't doing so well when we left, but as some of the parents pointed out, the members of the other team weren't playing like good Christians.

A word about Twin Bridges State Park: This state park is very, very small--only about ten campgrounds. There are a few more up the hill, I think, but the campground is essentially cut in half by a state road. Judging by the state roads in Texas, we figured this wouldn’t be a problem since they seem rather empty. As it turns out, though, this particular state road was the major thoroughfare for the local dairy factory in Seneca. In other words, a milk-laden 18 wheeler drove by about every ten minutes. And as far as J! and I could tell, it was a 24 hour factory. But, at least they had free showers at the comfort station. No shower curtains, but that's roughing it.

J! presents the OK Botanical Garden fountain.

awww, so pretty.

Go Rangers! (Also, notice the serious mullet
on the left side of the photo?)

A whole country? Is that necessary?

2005-09-08T23:02:00.000+02:00

Grants, NM to Elk City, OK

number of times creeped out by a campground: 1 (twice, in two days!); number of state campgrounds avoided (total): 2; number of ginormous crosses witnessed: 1; number of times I'd like to go back to the Panhandle: 0.

We crossed the entire Panhandle in one day. Let me just say that the miles and miles of grasslands north of Amarillo just kind of freaked me out. They were so empty; I couldn't believe it. Even the roads were empty--long, long roads with absolutely no one on them. Pretty good radio stations, though. Anyway, we drove north of Amarillo for about 45 minutes to get to Lake Meredith State Park. According to the website Lake Meredith is an extremely popular place for boating and fishing aficionados. This might be true during July but on a Thursday in September Lake Meredith is an abandoned sinkhole. We drove to three different campgrounds and saw only two people. The large signs warning of rattlesnakes all over the place were also a bit of a turnoff. We stayed for about three hours, even picked out a campground, and then got weirded out by how lonely it was, so we packed up and headed for Oklahoma. For those of you traveling across the country, I don't really suggest the Elk City KOA--it is in between the freeway and an exit ramp and they charge you an extra $6 to take a shower. Those of you more rugged than I probably wouldn't mind this, but then you probably would have stayed at Lake Meredith, too.

The Cadillac Ranch!
east of Amarillo, TX

J! tries to put a little happiness into this sad, sad place.

Huge Cross #1

The Honda Accord Test Drive America

2005-09-08T03:30:00.000+02:00

So, two years ago when J! came out to CA from Western Massachusetts, he bought a 1997 Honda Accord of his dad for the hefty sum of $1. J! figured that because the car got better gas mileage than his dad’s SUVs, Papa Romano might be interested in a sweet bargain (taking into account inflation) of a slightly used car (but with a brand new windshield!). Naturally, before selling off such a gem of a vehicle, J! thought it would only be fair if we drove the car for a while, to make sure it didn’t have any intermittent defects. Hence, the Test Drive.

Phoenix, AZ to Grants, NM

number of KOAs: 1. number of times creeped out by a campground: 1; number of times slept on gravel: 1. number of signs we passed advertising "knife city": 4; number of times we stopped at "knife city": 0.

We got to Grants in pretty good time, exited the freeway (our good friend Interstate 40) and headed towards our first campground, Bluewater Lake State Park, NM. I was really excited about the camping, I admit. I figured we'd get into these lovely scenic places, hike around a bit, take some breathtaking photos and enjoy a brisk campfire before turning in. Let me just say that Bluewater Lake State Park was a bit of a disappointment--actually, to be more specific, we never actually saw the lake and I have no idea what the park was like. As it turns out, to get to the park you have to drive through a small one street town that looks like it hasn't seen a tourist in about twenty years. Not so bad, you say--plenty of hometown charm and undisturbed tranquility. We thought so too until I hopped out of the car to get a park permit and passing by us on the road were three men on bmx bikes, one of whom was being pulled by two dogs. The place was creepy, and the town was even worse. Plus, we didn't actually have anything to eat except about five pounds of red vines and the only store in town was named "Johnny's Country Shack" but as far as I can tell only sold liquor. So, we headed back to Grants and decided to try instead El Malpais State Park. Unfortunately, El Malpais (aptly named, meaning "the bad country") is a bit undeveloped--no restrooms. Actually, no campgrounds, either. We went back to Grants again and stayed at a KOA about 100 yards away from the Interstate.

A few notes about Grants, NM: There's a large mountain to the north of Grants that used to be a volcano. A lot of Grants is actually cooled lava, which is pretty much all over the place wherever it hasn't been developed. Our KOA had a large area in the middle of the campground that was off limits, labeled with a sign "Please Stay Off--Lava Bubble!" We saw a lot of these from the Interstate as we headed east--kinda cool.

Bluewater Lake State Park, NM. If you look carefully,
you can see one of the bikers in the background.

J! not keeping off of a lava bubble.

They cleverly hid the Interstate
with that sound-proof wood fence.