Standing even abroad

We had a 25 hour stop-over in Frankfurt. Here is what we did with it...

Here is the ornate end-terminus train station in Frankfurt.

I suppose this photo tells what's going on all by itself!

Our guidebook walking tour took us through the red light district. It suggested entering the towers but we did not!

We went up the Frankfurt version of the Rockefeller Center for views over the city.

Can you find the train station?

In this one, find the € sign.

It really seems like every European smokes. People are more likely to assume that you're a smoker than not.

Where's Kevin?

A very cool mall.

M.C. Escher? This is inside the building pictured in the previous photo.

The old town, which was completely destroyed and rebuilt (untrue to the original due to lack of funds) after WWII.

We spent the evening reminiscing over dinner in the district known for "apfelwein" or apple wine, which has outdoor biergarten set-ups. Our waitress didn't really speak English. We had handkäse mit musik (hand-made cheese with onions) and attempted to order leiterchen (which translates as "little ladders" also known as ribs, a traditional dish that we wanted to try) but ended up with a pickled porkchop to share instead. It was surprisingly tender and tasty, which was good because when she set it down and we tried to politely explain that we had ordered the little ladders, it became clear that we were eating what we were served. She must have felt a little bad about it later, because she gave us some schnapps on the house.

We walked back to our hotel along the River Main, which was lined with food booths and a few stages with free concerts. I tried to win a giant box of tic tacs by rolling a ball down a tube and running to catch it with one hand at the other end, but failed. I received a handful of tic tacs as a consulation prize. A block before we reached our hotel, it started pouring, just to prepare us for life back in B.C.

And finally, here is smug Kevin in his business class pod of luxury, champagne in hand. Though I'd never pay for it myself (we used aeroplan points and there were no economy seats available), having seats that turned into beds and multiple course meals made me want the flight to last even longer than it did.

Goodbye, Europe!

Dubrovnik, a city atop an isthmus on the Adriatic, was the last stop of our Central European trip.

On the first night, we walked the walls which encircle Dubrovnik. This takes about 1.5 hours.

You can see our room, which overlooks the harbour in this photo. Look at the row of buildings on the far side of the harbor. See the fortress on the far left? We were in the second black window towards the right from the fortress.

Walking the walls in the late afternooon sun... I would love to be back here!

A view over the isthmus.

You can see the bustling Stratum, where it's too expensive to eat or shop. We had one coffee there for the people-watching, but headed to the alleys and side streets for our other meals.

I really like the Croatian checkered flag.

Kevin waving from a fortress along the wall.

Here's a view of both the wall and the harbour from our room. We could people-watch from a few feet above. If tourists happened to take their eyes away from the harbour, they were startled to look up and see they had a little audience peering down at them.

A pile of mussels... we ate them all, plus shared an octopus salad! It was a sea-feast!

The view from our window by night.

A sad, sick, patchy market kitten which we encountered on our second day.

When Croatia declared its independence from Yugoslavia in 1991, the Yugoslav army (made up of Serbians and Montenegrins) attacked Dubrovnik. Dubrovnik held its walled city the entire length of the siege, but the map below shows the damage. We found where we were staying on the map and it is marked as having had some damage to the roof. Unlike in Mostar, Dubrovnik has been completely repaired since its recent conflict. You need to look for evidence of the war if you're interested in seeing it: some shrapnel scars on the church, and most telling, the gleaming new orange roof tiles on the majority of the buildings when you look out over the walls, which should be uniformly old and dull:

Frozen water to go? I've had ice, but never frozen water! Sadly, we didn't try it.

Never have I seen a movie in a more lovely setting. I paused often to look around me and take in my surroundings. We could bring in our own snacks and drinks--I had chocolate milk and Kevin sipped a beer.

We encountered an impromptu orchestra practice along the Stratum at 11:00 p.m. after our movie and paused to listen.

This is the beach where we spent our last day, alternating between napping in the sun and cooling off in the Adriatic. Nearby we explored an huge, abandoned, former open-air communist theatre which used the ocean as a back-drop (this photo was taken standing on the stage).

One last beloved shot from our window...

We hired a driver to take us to the airport since the taxi drivers are known for being crooked and this way it would be cheaper and less sketchy. At 5:00 a.m., we passed the silent, empty Stratum (the long promenade with shops and cafes) and as we approached the gate leaving the city, we met a dark figure looking out over the harbour, our driver, Pepo. He takes people on private tours by day, and is fascinating to talk to. He is a veteran who fought during the siege of Dubrovnik in the early 90s. Pepo saw Dubrovnik nearly destroyed by the Serbians and Montenegrins during the 7 month siege (during which time there was no running water, and there were still many civilians living there). We found it particularly interesting how he commented on the importance of travel, and added that he learned after the war that 95% of Montenegrins did not even have passports at the time before the conflict. How different things may have been had they seen and understood more of the world.

The bus we took from Split made its way to Mostar by winding its way along the coastline of the sparkling green Adriatic. The scenery was breathtaking, and every inch of coastline was used as pebbly beaches for sunbathers.

Mostar was unexpectedly beautiful, and possibly the most interesting place we have visited in all of Europe. The town is mostly Muslim but there is also a concentration of Catholics. We enjoyed the taste of Turkish culture, everything from the call to prayer echoing from the minarets of the mosques multiple times during the day, to the delicious sludgy Turkish coffee, and the Turkish bazaar-style market.

See the minarets? (They are the spires on the mosques)

Kevin and the Stari Most (Old Bridge).

I thought this was a paper frog at first. Nope, it's the real thing but dry and flat.

There were pomegranates in the trees!

Turkish coffee and turkish delight, mmm!

It was much quieter in Mostar than in lively Split. The people here went out of their way to be hospitable. When we arrived at our Sobe, weighed down by our packs and bathed in sweat, the owner came all the way back up the stairs just to bring us icy classes of water with mint and sugar. Again, when we were sitting outside of and internet cafe/bar using our netbook, the barman came out to bring us a boiled cob of corn on the house, saying simply, “Is good!”.

On our first night we had a mixed grill of meats since it had some traditional Bosnian cevapi (little sausages) and such. It said it fed two people, but it actually fed two people plus a cat family. I had one bite of the calf liver and fed the rest of the liver to the cats, who slept contentedly next to our table after their little feast (they were thin “market cats” as we call them... wild little scavengers who roam the markets for scraps). No mom, I didn’t pet them as I am aware that cats can carry diseases.

Never have I received such a large pour of wine as in Bosnia Herzegovina. Can you guess what Kevin is looking down at? See next photo...

Contented cats with bellies full of calf liver.

The morning after we arrived, we visited a mosque and climbed the extremely narrow minaret, which is like bell tower, with barely room for one person to squeeze up to the top. We had the views to ourselves for a while at the top, but on the way down a bunch of tour group members were on their way up. There wasn’t enough room to pass, so I clung to the center of the minaret to let people squash themselves past me, but they just kept coming, and the large man behind me impatiently decided to attempt to pass me at the same time (impossible!). Unable to move backwards or forwards, and convinced that the minaret would plug up so I would be stuck immobile in a kind of people-gelatin, I actually started panicking, some tears came ... it was not a good situation. Guess I am claustrophobic. But this resulted in people letting me unwrap myself from the concrete centre post and make my way to freedom, phew!

A view of the Stari Most, taken from the top of a minaret.

Inside the mosque

See the "mini" Stari Most? It is called the Crooked Bridge.

I love figs. There was a fig tree growing in one spot on our walk into the old town so we ate some straight from the tree. Delicious; they taste like they are jam-filled with crunchy little seeds inside. Later we bought a kilogram of fresh figs at the market for the equivalent of $1.40. Good deals on fruit like this delight me, as I have “European-fruit-buying-anxiety” since I have been grossly ripped off a couple times when I didn’t know how much fruit should cost in Europe and wasn’t confident in my currency converting (an apple should never be $3...). We happened upon a sleepy land turtle who loves figs as much as I do and he chowed down on a chunk of fig that we shared with him.

I looked so cool that another tourist asked to take a picture of me in my fez.

Kevin making himself at home in a traditional Turkish home...

Turkish turtle.

On our second day it was 38 degrees in the shade at 5:00, an incredibly dry heat that had us filling up our water bottles at the mosque fountain repeatedly. Finally we decided to swim in the icy Neretva River under the Stari Most, the arched “old bridge” which was built by the Ottomans and lasted 427 years. Sadly, it was destroyed in 1993 during the Croat-Bosniak War, but the one that links the Muslim and Catholic side now was rebuilt in 2004 in the exact same way as the original, even using the same ancient technology. We saw a video of the original bridge under fire, finally crumbling into the river, which was very emotional and disturbing. After standing so long, its destruction is a symbol of how much people can hate one another.

Cooling off at the mosque's fountain

Inside a second mosque

This guy collected money and then dove off the bridge.

Mostar was eye-opening. There is still so much evidence of the war between the Bosniaks and the Croats. There are starburst patterns from shrapnel in the pavement, ruined buildings, and bullet holes in nearly all the buildings from the conflict that only ended in 1997. There are many destroyed buildings, shot full of bullets. Nature is now reclaiming them, with fig trees growing out former window frames and gaping holes. Nobody knows who owned them, and nobody wants to buy them since the ownership is unclear. There is a cemetery filled with graves of young men caught up in the conflict; nearly every grave is from ’93. We counted several graves of 17 year-olds. There are bullet holes in the trees bark. The city is a beautiful and haunting place.

Bullet damage

Before and after

Holes from being shelled

Star burst patterns in a parking lot

We spent our five year anniversary in Split. The irony of this didn’t occur to us till later. To describe Split, it is a place of many smells... most of them bad. It’s located on a sulphur spring, which creates the base smell, then add in some fish market scent, spiced raw sewage wafting up from the manhole covers, with a peppering of collective body odour since it’s hot and humid. Now you have Split perfume.

Split is a port town right next to the Adriatic Sea, and its main draw is the ruins of Diocletian’s palace, in other words, Roman ruins which thousands of slaves died building for awful Diocletian, who also persecuted many Christians. We explored parts of the palace, including the cellar. From medieval times onward, people have just continued cluttering it up by tacking apartment buildings onto to palace walls like barnacles.

Inside the cellars of Diocletian's palace.

Diocletian's excavated olive oil press.

Kitty would like some service.

This was an open courtyard any tourist could wander into. A carefree Croatian woman in her underwear was hanging up laundry.

Statue by a famous Croatian sculptor. I like the birds' nest in his hand.

Political correctness was lost in translation, apparently.

For our anniversary dinner we headed out for seafood, of course. Then we sauntered back in the heat of the night along the palm tree-lined and crowded Riva, stopping for dark chocolate gelato.

One of the only pictures of us on our anniversary (taken by ourselves because the restaurant was very busy).

Kevin's fish. It doesn't look amazing, but is. You eat the skin!

This guy was lounging in his toga, usually drinking wine and eating grapes and selling shoelaces on the Riva at night. What a life!

The next day we took a bus to Trogir, which involved standing in the aisle of a crowded bus with no air conditioning for 45 minutes. There was nothing in our guidebook about Trogir, so we were on our own. We had heard that there were Greek ruins in Trogir; we checked them out, unconvinced that they were the original ruins and not reconstructions since they looked pretty new.

We liked the juxtaposition of the scooter zipping through the quiet alley strung with laundry lines. Only in Europe.

On the taxi-boat on the blue, blue Adriatic.

We took a taxi-boat to a nearby beach, swam in the warm Adriatic and then fell asleep in the sun. Not wanting to repeat the morning’s bus experience, we took a boat back to Split (for nearly the same price as the bus!). In fact, sitting on the breezy boat-taxi and cruising the shore on the ferry boat were probably the best parts of the day.

We also gave ourselves a whirl-wind two hour tour of Zagreb on the way to Plitvice, which included checking out a cathedral, taking in some views over the city, and getting some fruit at the open air market. Two photos to remind ourselves we were ever there:

Plitvice Lakes National Park was my main reason for wanting to go to Croatia; I’ve longed to go ever since I saw a photo of it years ago. It looked like my definition of paradise, so I photocopied the picture and filed it away. Now here I am.

The real Plitivice Lakes is indeed impossibly beautiful, but it has to be Croatia’s worst-kept secret, as I did not picture quite so many hordes of slow-moving tourists on the boardwalks of paradise. (Tourist hordes not pictured)

Despite the fact that paradise is not as exclusive as I thought, we enjoyed our hike. There were countless little waterfalls linking the terraced lakes together. And the water is so clear that it looks in a surreal way as if the fish are simply suspended in the air.







Plitvice Lakes was one of the few places where we had booked an actual hotel for lack of any nearby hostels or sobes (rented rooms in people’s houses). We had a pleasant surprise when we arrived to find our economy room upgraded for free to the nicest type of room in the hotel. It was complete with two bathrooms (and first bidet we came across in Central Europe), sitting area, and king-sized bed. We felt like royalty!

We day-tripped to Lake Bled, Slovenia, and it was my favourite day of the trip so far. It is a town on a small but very clean emerald green lake. We started by renting a wooden row-boat and rowing out to the island in the middle of the lake which is very tiny with just a church on it. I discovered that I’m a pretty decent rower and rowed all the way back. As we passed by the swimming area near shore, women were smiling and watching us pass by, probably because we were the only boat with the woman rowing along and the man lounging back happily (the situation was reversed in all the other boats we saw).

Starting to get the hang of rowing

We walked the perimeter of the tiny island (which took about 5 minutes... small island!) and then hopped into the lake, which was ridiculously clean and clear... maybe too clear, as I have a little bit of fish phobia leftover from childhood and don’t particularly like seeing fish circling around me...

On the island

Castle as seen from the island

The church on the island

Cream cake and cappuccino by the lake

The highlight of the day was a big dose of “kid fun” when we saw that there was a metal toboggan track with a chairlift going up to it, with people zooming down it on little yellow toboggans attached to the track. We did something similar to this on our trip in Germany, but that was more like luge and this is more like a roller coaster in your own personal seat, and you can brake or let it fly down the track taking full advantage of gravity (we did the latter, of course!). It was so fun whizzing around the corners and down into the dips... rarely do I shriek out of pure fun, but here I confess that I did.

The toboggan track

We also biked around the lake on a path next to the water, pausing to check out the rowing centre (they have rowing championships on Lake Bled and Olympians train there... we saw some of them rowing!). We also wanted to see the inside of Tito’s former villa (the ruler of the former Yugoslavia), which is now a hotel, so we walked confidently in as if we were staying there and then searched around upstairs till we found the ballroom with the communist-realism style murals.

Don’t read this paragraph if you like horses. Back in Ljubljana, there are many late-night places to eat, including countless non-stop, 24 hour kebab and burek places (burek= Turkish, with dough wrapped around different fillings). We hadn’t eaten dinner yet, so we went to the Hot Horse stand at midnight (open till 6 a.m. with a steady stream of Slovenians, that’s how popular!). We shared a giant horse burger. It was not bad, a little chewier than beef and rather gamey-tasting with spices that seemed intended to try and cover up the gameyness. Also I kept thinking of horses while I was eating it. And that concluded our two-day foray into Slovenia.

More communist cola. This stuff is called Cockta.

-Kimberly

We woke up early so we could buy enough food/ groceries for the 9 hour train ride to Ljubljana. Unfortunately, the “Hungarian Tim Horton’s” which is actually called Fornetti’s (sells pastries instead of donuts) was closed on Sunday. So we found breakfast at the Turkish restaurant next door, and the lady seemed bemused to see us eating baklava for breakfast since it’s a dessert (crispy phyllo layers with honey and walnuts... why not?) so she gave us each a glass of strong Turkish tea to try. It’s certainly better than the salty Ayran drink!

The train to Slovenia lazily chugged along the tracks, stopping about every 5 minutes on the 9 hour trip. We had a compartment of 6 seats all to ourselves, and the seats slid forward till they were flat, so just as we were about to turn it into a giant bed and nap away the time, the train starting splitting itself up (sending some cars off to other places) and attaching new cars. Just then, two young Irish guys (who almost got detached from the train and redirected to who knows where instead of Slovenia) joined us. Alas, no giant bed, but even better was having the chance to chat. They even said that they find Canadian accents “less obnoxious” than American accents. Thanks? But they were nice young lads, who used cool words like “dodgy” and confirmed the Irish pub stereotype (one of their families owns a pub in Ireland).

We hadn’t planned what we were going to do in Ljubljana very thoroughly, so we were a little disappointed to discover that it was a national holiday on our one day there; meaning that much of the town was closed, and had just about emptied itself of locals. Luckily the really important things were open, like the gelato stands! It’s so close to Italy that they have the really good stuff, and we were sure to sniff out the best, homemade gelato (mascarpone cheese with cherries flavour, chocolate-orange, etc.).

Of the handful of locals we saw, there were some interesting modes of transport; among them were a number of dirt-bike riders cruising the town and a strange electric scooter. But our favourite was the guy in the golf cart blasting “Highway to Hell”!

The town was made for simply wandering anyway, so that’s how we spent the day. And interestingly, we came across plenty of free and accessible things. There was a little glass building standing all on its own with an automatic door and no one around, and the door opened up for us. Inside were items from the Roman ruins in Ljubljana (which was called Emona in ancient times) including sarcophagi, mosaics, columns and other remnants of Roman civilization, which were not behind glass so I was free to touch them as if I were in Rome again. I love that they have so many ancient Roman artifacts in Europe that you don’t have to treat them like precious museum objects that cannot be touched! You could even get away with rubbing a jelly donut on them (I didn’t).

Then we headed into Tivoli Park, which had a long walkway with an outdoor photography display of giant prints of Serbia. It was some of the most beautiful and thought-provoking photography I have ever seen. I never thought I could gaze at photos for so long.

It was a huge, quiet park with trails, so we headed deeper and deeper into it and found the few remaining locals. Some were practicing a little dance that they had choreographed, unaware that we were watching. Others were just lounging in the tall, weedy grass, which looked more like a field you’d see at the side of the road in Chilliwack than a park (since much of it was not mowed or well –groomed). The rest of the locals were hiding out at the horse-burger stand and the little watering hole next to a run-down mini golf course.

We had wanted to check out the elaborate interior of the Serbian Orthodox Church (supposed to be very different from Catholic churches) but it was closed according to our guidebook. Yet when we walked by, the door was open. So we wandered in, saw a few other “tourists”, stared up at the ceilings, took some pictures... then bell struck and the “tourists” started chanting in unison. We high-tailed it out of the little church service we had inadvertently crashed.

We watched evening fall from the patio of a restaurant that was also an experience. We walked a ways out of town to find it. It is a place with no menu; they use all fresh ingredients and you pretty much say if you’re in the mood for chicken, fish, pasta, or what then they give some suggestions and whip up something super delicious! Kind of like when I lived at home, right mom?! And it’s the price of a standard, nothing fancy restaurant meal at home.

-Kimberly

We wrapped up our stay in Hungary with Kevin confirming affectionately that he does indeed like Budapest. Despite its faults, it is so full of character, and I suspect that in a few years it will be completely cleaned up and rejuvenated till it looks more like Vienna or Prague. I was glad to see something a little more crusty and real. Anyways, Kevin made this comment after we left a ruin pub (more on this later), and we simultaneously passed two men wearing yarmulkes deep in conversation in Hebrew, as we walked under an apartment balcony where two people were playing violin together with the music drifting into the night.

Kevin hanging out in a bathtub at the ruin pub... a pub in a genuinely ruined building!

We left our mark at the ruin pub.

Parliament buildings up close.

The Chain Bridge. It was the first permanent bridge connecting Buda and Pest but has been rebuilt many times.

Notice the special shadow on the Terror House? It is a museum about the Nazi (Arrow Cross) occupation and subsequent Soviet occupation of Budapest.

Smiley peppers at the market

On the last day I also satisfied my need for corn on the cob, as a street vendor was selling it in the park! Never has anyone been so excited about corn on the cob, I’m sure.

I found it interesting to think that had our parents wanted to visit places like Budapest at our age, they couldn’t (and wouldn’t have wanted to!) because it was communist... closed borders, violent uprisings, and no freedom. It only became a possibility as a travel destination in ’89, and probably not a very desirable destination till quite a while later than that. And, our timing is ideal, while things are still relatively cheap and it’s not hard to fine and appreciate un-touristy Budapest.

-Kimberly

Budapest hates us. Nonetheless, we like it. It all started the moment we arrived and decided to quickly buy our tickets out of Hungary to Slovenia while we were still at the train station. Normally, buying international tickets might involve waiting in line for 5 minutes, but not in Budapest. There were a couple ticket windows open and a machine for taking a number, so we took one. We looked from our ticket to the screen displaying the current number in confusion... our ticket was several hundred numbers later in the queue. Something must be wrong, we thought. We asked around, but no, it’s the norm. A TWO HOUR WAIT to buy a ticket got us well-acquainted with the crumbly station and with the system in general as we saw people crying who clearly weren’t going to be able to buy their tickets in time to make their intended train departures. In fact, our wait would have been over three hours, but we were lucky enough to find a crumpled up number 417 slip of paper on the floor to replace our 483. Unfortunately, we didn’t truly catch on to the system till we finally got up close to the ticket window for our turn... anyone “in the know” simply walks up to the window, hands over an extra little wad of forints (the currency here) and buys their tickets with no wait involved...

Having spent a chunk of our first afternoon in the train station, we were eager to start sightseeing. But the morning of our first full day in Budapest, before we could actually get anywhere, we were slapped with a $30 fine for misunderstanding the public transport system (transfers are allowed, but not to trams as it turned out). Despite having a stack of already-purchased tickets, enough for our remaining time in Budapest, we were still fined about $30. The ticket checker and her security entourage assured us we were getting a “great deal”, as only one of us was being fined. During the rest of our time in Budapest, we saw many other tourists (often teary-eyed) going through the same ordeal; apparently it’s more of a “welcome to Budapest” fine than a legit fine. I think some lessons in hospitality might be in order.

These experiences were frustrating but Budapest is still pretty great, and seems more culturally different than where we have been so far. After hanging out at the train station on day one, the only activity we were interested in that evening was lounging in thermal baths for which Budapest is well-known. Inside, there are different pools with interestingly green-tinged water (minerals...hopefully), sulphurous-smelling water, ice-cold water, aroma-saunas, steam-saunas and a sauna with coloured lights that keep changing (Disco sauna? Can’t read Hungarian...). But most of our time was spent outside in either the relaxing pool (very warm water from the springs but not as hot as a hot tub) with many rotund European men in Speedos, some of them playing chess in the pool. The outdoor setting is also nice, as the pools are in a courtyard surrounded by bright yellow historical buildings and sculptures. There was also the fun pool which was cooler, and had some great features, particularly the fast-flowing whirlpool that carries you around in a little loop with its jets and strong current. In fact, at one point Kevin exited the whirlpool and decided to stand at the only exit point and keep pushing me back into the current each time I floated past so that I was stuck like a ragdoll whirling infinitely around and around the loop. Also, at regular intervals, tiny clusters of jets on the bottom of the pool would turn on and create bubbly sections you could go stand on and float so that it felt that we were in the midst a pocket of carbonated pool water.
That’s my description of the baths.

But I also like the way the “Official Budapest Guide” describes them:
“Only by sitting in the steam and listening to others, you will learn more about public life than by reading any newspaper. Following the chess party with one eye only and catching only one of two bids will get you further than chasing for sharp-sighted comments in the office tea kitchen. To top it all off, bathing is an activity that will give you a feeling of satisfaction by only the mere appearance of doing sports.”

Well, I agree that it’s better than the office tea kitchen but I’m afraid there’s really no appearance of doing sports...

After the transit confusion on our second day, we eventually made it to Memento Park, which has all the old communist statues moved to one place, such as inartistic statues of stiff workers proudly doing their duty, soviet soldiers as heroes, and of course giant Lenins and other “admirable” communist figures. Brainwashing even through statues... it’s interesting (okay, frightening). We then explored more of “Buda” (Buda and Pest are two different sides of the Danube river,) including the castle quarter and the cave of an old nuclear bunker. We supped at a vegetarian restaurant--a welcome change, except that the generous amount of balsamic vinegar we poured on our salad turned out to be soy sauce... not recommended. Perhaps back to dumplings and red meat tomorrow!

Hanging out at Memento Park...

Looking out over Budapest (parliament buildings in the background)

About to share “family dessert” from the grocery store. What could it be?

Surprisingly yummy (coconut and chocolate flavour)! Yes we were staying somewhere with orange walls.

-Kimberly

Jayme and Steph were kind enough to be our temporary parents and let us stay with them in Vienna, and they even planned out and accompanied us on our first couple days in the city. After unpacking at their lovely and surprisingly historical apartment (stained-glass in the lobby proudly stated the build-date: 1891!), we headed to the Turkish market to load up on fruit, which has been lacking in our strictly red meat and dumpling diet. They also made sure that we experienced Ayran, which is a Turkish drink. You can experience it too: pour the liquid off some cottage cheese, add a few tablespoons of salt to the liquid, bottoms up! It’s an acquired taste. Then they took us to a park whose name we don’t recall, so it shall be referred to as Jurassic Park since it was the kind of place which wouldn’t have shocked us too much if a raptor popped out of the foliage. Jurassic Park had beautiful views over the city, including the many church spires and several old Nazi flak-towers. Once back in the city, delicious face-sized schnitzel and lemony potato salad, along with a night-time walk through the dramatically-lit old town center concluded the introduction to Vienna.

Jurassic Park

Vienna by night

On the second day we rented city bikes (the great kind that you borrow by putting your credit card into a machine and releasing the bike, then re-locking it at any other bike station you feel like). It was a hot day, so we went to Schonbrunn palace and wandered around the never-ending manicured gardens (similar idea to Versailles in Paris) and tried to get free peeks into the zoo. We also stopped for a picnic of juicy chunks of watermelon.

Entrance to Schonbrunn Palace

Nice place for a picnic, eh?

In the afternoon, we all headed out to a small town called Stammersdorf on the outskirts of Vienna, flanked by vineyards and full of family-owned wine cellars stuck into the hills like hobbit houses. We ate a massive meal of traditional Austrian food, including a softball sized dumpling full of bacon, various peppers stuffed with soft cheese, and surprisingly inexpensive local wine. For dessert, there were scraps of cake soaked in rum with pink icing. Fawns ran between grape-vines below our balcony as we ate, and Vienna’s beautiful sprawl was the distant background. It was a great experience that would have been inaccessible without our guides.

The next day we spent mostly on our own as Jayme was working and we had some super-touristy activities on our agenda. We took a tram into the old town and went straight to the treasury at the Hofburg Palace. Full of beautiful jewels and treasures once owned by the Hapsburgs; highlights included a rose bouquet made of solid gold and the ridiculously extravagant crib for Napoleons’ kid, which we shall model any future child’s crib after. The next day included more museums and wandering of almost too-perfect Vienna.

We sheepishly admit to sharing a touristy Sacher Torte (cake with layers of apricot jam)

Views over Vienna from Stefansdom (cathedral), after climbing 340+ steps

Karlskirche baroque church

We departed Vienna on the “Rail jet”, which is a train that thinks it’s a plane. Three hours after departing, we arrived in Budapest, Hungary. It is certainly a step up from the Polish and Czech trains... this becomes evident when you sit down on the toilet and can’t see the train tracks whizzing past under your bottom.

-Collective effort of K und K

We spent a day and a half in the little Austrian lakeside town of Halstatt. On the first day a boat shuttled us across the lake, and we set off at a run with our packs to make it for the last salt mine tour. We made it up the last cable car with 4 minutes to spare, then hiked uphill another 10 minutes and arrived like exhausted sweaty packhorses. The highlight (and our main reason for going to the salt mine) was going down the super long slide down into the cave (wearing miner’s jammies because it’s cold). Kevin’s top speed on the slide was 35 km, but mine was only 25 km. I started feeling a tad homesick... I am looking forward to sushi, corn on the cob, a walk with a certain jaunty, naughty dog, and a hug from my parents when I get home!

Kevin licking salt off the mine walls.

Turns out maturity is not a prerequisite for traveling.

View from our hostel window

On the second day, we met up with our practically-an-ex-pat friend Jayme from high school and his girlfriend Steph. Our group, now armed with the ability to read and speak German at will, took a series of cable cars up into the mountains, did some hiking, and had delicious dumpling soup at a mountain hut. The mountain range was like a slightly scaled-down version of the Alps in Switzerland, and we caught ourselves staring in awe in every direction. In the evening, after cooling our feet in the freezing and crystal-clear Hallstattersee (the lake), we had the most amazing trout, caught fresh and cooked with spices on the crisp skin... so fresh that you’re supposed to eat the skin and it’s actually good—not fishy at all! Beer and radlers (beer mixed with sprite for ladies and bikers) washed things down, and we ended the night wandering the sleepy town and listening to a brass-band playing traditional medleys on a boat moored in the lake.

Hanging out on top of a mountain

Also, bonehaus.

-Mostly Kimberly

Today included a variety of new experiences including rafting down weirs and tasting mead (and I didn’t know what these things were before today!).

We started the day with delicious cappuccino on a tiny square and wandered past some shops. Kevin found an army surplus store and was happy; there were all sorts of soviet-era weaponry and uniforms at thrift-store prices. One soviet fur hat later and we were on our way.

Next was a walking tour of Eggenberg Brewery. It was a realistic, grainy and unpolished view of a working brewery. We peeked into sweet-smelling copper tanks of barley malt whirling around and creating the beginnings of the beloved Czech drink (Czechs drink more than any other country and our guide’s doctor even specifically prescribed Pilsner beer as a solution to one of her husband’s ailments).

Our guide explained an unusual way of getting the beer bottled and finding a solution for the homeless people in Cesky Krumlov at the same time. The homeless people get to live at the brewery, and work only when needed to bottle the beer and recycle the old bottles. They also receive unlimited free beer. Yep. Until recently, they were even allowed to drink while working and typically had bottles of beer at their feet from which they took swigs while working the heavy machinery. Also, they’re only allowed to collect their cheques when clean (not from drugs or alcohol... just not smelly). I doubt we’ll be seeing similar programs in North American anytime soon.

We found out that many Czechs don’t consider beer to be alcohol (remember, it’s cheaper than water here, and was much safer than water back in the day) and they will say that they don’t drink even if they have beer every day. Likewise the tolerance is zero for blood alcohol level when driving here, yet Czechs drink beer and drive because it’s "not" alcohol...

We spent the afternoon rafting down the river on a three hour trip from our little medieval town to the Zlata Koruna abbey (it’s supposed to be beautiful, but you can’t actually see it from the river... false advertising!). Anyway, the gentle current carried us slowly among drunken Czechs in various types of flotation devices, including a wooden palette, all of whom shouted “ahoy!” until we responded. Some paddling was required as well. The wildest parts were going down the weirs, which create a small-scale version of Disney Splash Mountain.

We unwound with some tea at a Czech tea-house before dinner, then went out for a medieval feast of pork, beef, and turkey cooked over open flame, with mead (honey wine... rather medicinal tasting) and red wine straight from the barrel. It was delicious and so cheap compared to at home. I’d be gaining a lot of weight here if it weren’t for all the walking and hiking we are doing.

Before...

...after!

-Kimberly

Cesky Krumlov is a cute medieval Czech town which welcomed us with sunshine. One of the highlights was just wandering the town’s cobbled lanes, gazing up at the church spire and the colourful castle tower on the hill, as well as taking in the views of the terracotta-tiled roofs in the valley. It is almost as though the whole town it is surrounded by moat, as the river meanders around the old town.

Highlights included: the cute bears in the bear pits at the castle, scratching their tummies and looking curiously up at us (interestingly, free to see the bears but it costs money to go to the bathroom almost everywhere). There was a sign inviting tourists to donate money to provide the bears with “delicacies and variety in their diet,” and apparently someone donated a lot as one bear was napping next to heaping pile of cheese danishes. Another bear sauntered around with a carrot stick hanging out of his mouth like a cigar.

Dinner was a shared blue cheese and bacon crepe from a crepe stand. The making of it was a comedy of errors, and on the second try, we were presented with a burnt crepe that took up two crepe trays because it was accidentally double-wide with buckets of blue cheese added to it—I don’t think they made a profit on that crepe. It was still tasty-ish and we were entertained.

-Kimberly

I’m typing this as the train takes us rattling past fields of sunflowers, corn, solar panels, and the rolling green landscape of the Czech countryside (including a little girl standing in a field and waving to our passing train). We’re en route to the small riverside town of Cesky Krumlov, but we definitely fell in love with Prague and were sad to leave.

The last day in Prague was the best day yet. We started the day with crisp, sugary tubular pastries that are sold everywhere here; the dough is wrapped around a hot, rotating metal rod to bake over a fire and then we get to unwind and scarf down the fresh pastries like delicious hollow cinnamon buns.

We headed into the Jewish quarter for the morning, which is a more polished version of the Jewish quarter in Poland. Again though, most synagogues were now used as museums rather than practicing synagogues. We saw many torah shields and pointers and learned about Jewish rituals. I found it interesting to see religious items that I’ve read about in the Old Testament, and to come to understand the Jewish religion a little more.
For a souvenir of our time spent in Europe’s Jewish quarters, I bought a necklace at a market stand with a little silver Mezuzah on a thread of black leather. Mezuzahs are special because the Jewish people would put a verse from the Torah inside them and place them over the door posts of their houses, and we saw quite a few of them at the museums in the synagogues. Kevin asked “Will your parents be offended that you’re wearing a Jewish symbol?” I say no, because Jesus was Jewish!

We took a break at the Franz Kafka cafe for Turkish coffee, which is a sludgy black coffee that slides down your throat and leaves a thick layer of grinds at the bottom of the cup... yet is surprisingly good and puts a spring in your step!

We spent some time on Wencelas square, where there is beautiful gothic and art nouveau architecture mixed with blocky utilitarian communist buildings. This was also where two young men set themselves on fire in protest of communism in the 60’s. It seems horrible, but they are celebrated as heroes in Prague because their actions rallied the people to protest for freedom. We darted off to the side of the square into a quiet courtyard with a park, where naturally we had to try out the Czech playground equipment (interesting how playground equipment is so different from country to country). There was a merry-go-round that provided everyone with a little seat and bike pedals to make it whirl faster and faster, which Kevin almost caused me to fly off of, and a long banister to slide down (perhaps less safe than our North American version of a slide, as I fell off both times I tried!).

We had one of our best meals yet in the cellar of little restaurant which included a shared bottle of green muscat (white wine) from Moravia, and chicken. The best part was the life-changing traditional honey-walnut cake. It was not too rich, with many thin spongy, honey-flavoured layers. Then we wandered across the illuminated Charles Bridge to take in the views of the city lights. I think it will go down in our history as one of our favourite dates.

Kevin in front of the astronomical clock

-Kimberly