Twenty Three - Drei und Zwanzig

I'm 23!

March 22nd rolled around without much warning, but we celebrated right. I walked downstairs to find that Sandra has probably spent half of the night baking an almond cake for me (my favorite German cake, so far), and decorating the table to say Happy Birthday! and 23! with a bunch of adorable balloons. Mathis gave me his present right away, and I love the shirt with a German Fairytale about being friends until the end. I need to exchange it for one a little bigger though (you know men and their judging-the-right-sizes -for-women skills). My birthday brunch was wonderful and was only women and boys under four allowed.
We had so much great food!

Sandra pulled out the deck chair for my birthday nap, and I fell asleep outside on the sunniest day I've had since I've been in Germany. Really! It was warm, and happy, and a great nap. Sandra and Christof spoiled me with a great dinner at an Italian restaurant that we'd never been to, and I came home to beautiful flowers and great birthday presents. I really loved my German memory game and a big map of North Rhine Westfalia marking scenic bike routes. Mathis! Let's go!

I can't call it the Greatest Birthday Ever, because two the "Greatest _____ Ever"s in a row is a little excessive, but I will say this: These people really know how to make a girl feel appreciated for being born.

Road Trip - (Christof has informed me there is no German translation)

Who knew you could see so much of two whole countries in a long weekend! Sandra and I set off on Thursday, March 10th on a mission to visit Brussels, Ghent, Bruges, the coast of the Netherlands, and Amsterdam, all in 3 days and 3 nights.  And did we ever.

Brussels

Ghent

Bruges

Atlantic Coast

Amsterdam

Sandra came home from work on Thursday, we packed really quickly, and were on the road with a set of directions in German. Terrible idea. I’m going to go ahead and place the blame on the instructions, in order to avoid blaming my German skills, but I literally could not find one single thing from the directions on the actual roads! I would read and reread, and the road names would never match up. It could of been worse, probably. If they were in Italian or Arabic or something, that would have been harder, I’m guessing. I ungracefully found our way to a few miles before the German border, just around the time Sandra realized she had no form of identification what-so-ever. No passport. No European Union ID card. Not even a driver’s license that stated her married name. Whoops. After laughing and brainstorming how we could attempt at checking into the hotels the next 3 nights, we realized it could have been worse, probably. I was so thankful that Grandma Martha had told me to pack my passport, so we could use it to check-in everywhere. That woman knows what she’s doing. 

In Brussels we turned on the GPS and were surprised to find it worked outside of Deutschland. I respectfully and immediately resigned from my position as Director Reader. The GPS lead us straight into a dead end, but with the use of my fantastic English skills, we called the hotel and found we only had to drive through a parking garage to get there. Logically. (I’ve said it before, but it should be said again: I am incredibly lucky to have English as my first language. It also needs to be said, though, that sometimes I have to ask Sandra what people are saying to me in English, and she can always seamlessly translate English into English for me.) We checked into our hotel, which was in the most central location possible, and headed out to explore!

We knew we had only have one night and one morning in Brussels, so we stayed in the Central Market area, which was beyond convenient seeing that every important site was one minute from the door of our hotel. I saw old market squares, old churches, old beer halls, and Manneken Pis, the smallest, most underwhelming statue that held historical significance that I’ve ever sought to visit. We went to a really classy retro bar that night, and in the morning we bought too much chocolate from the factory that invented the very first filled praline! The comic TinTin is from Belgium, which I’d never heard of, but we went to the store for Sandra and ended up picking up a present for Mathis and a magnet for me along the way. We left Brussels before we got too attached, and headed for our pitstop in Ghent. 

Manneken Pis, approximately 30 cm tall.  

I broke my no dessert in Lent promise
to eat so many chocolates.

Grand Markt in Brussels

TinTin

Beer Hall!

Ghent was the town that invented waffles, which in itself is spectacular, but it is also a booming university town with a lot to see. We found a parking place outside of the city center, due to almost the entire inner town being a car free zone. The waffle place I’d read about was closed, but it could have been worse, probably, because we found beer and french fries with mayonnaise to eat at an outside cafe. Belgium invited french fries too, so close enough! During our snack break Sandra said, “It’s times like this when you can’t really complain. Right now, life seems pretty great.” and I have to say I could whole-heartedly empathize with her statement. We made a tourist loop, got back in the car, and drove to Bruges.

Sandra's second time in Ghent!

If I had to pick favorites, which I don’t but I can’t help it, Bruges would be at the top of my list. The very, very top. It was the coziest town I’ve been to in Europe, and I love the mix of canals, bridges, white-washed homes, shopping, and churches. It was a beauty. I especially liked our hotel (which was wonderfully located once again) and an abbey community centered around a field of daffodils and creeks. That night we had reservations at a small, local restaurant with Belgian food, which was quant and delicious. This is your city in Belgium, everyone. Go as soon as possible. In the morning I didn’t want to leave, but knowing that the European side of the Atlantic and Amsterdam are next on the agenda is pretty motivating. Our thoughtful hotel gave us a little travel bag to take with us containing candy and two bottles of still water, not sparkling! (take that, Christof Niemeier)

Beautiful hotel room with super high ceilings.

Bruges!

Sunny Canals in Bruges

Belgium Waffle! from Belgium!

Belgien food is delicious.

After driving a couple minutes in an under water tunnel, we made a lunch stop along the coast in the Netherlands. It was the first time I’d ever seen the Atlantic from this side, and the daydreams quickly took over concerning my friends and family waving on the other side of the ocean. After Flemish pancakes and a trek to the shoreline, we were on our way to Amsterdam, with the help of the GPS, thank goodness. 

Yup, we're underwater.

Flemmish Pancakes! and Sandra.

Me almost falling into the Atlantic.

It led us straight to our hotel's address, and then things got exciting. After battling the narrow, pedestrian filled streets of quirky, inner city Amsterdam, Sandra breathed a sigh of relief as we pulled onto our street. And quickly as humanly possible, she sucked it back in again. There were bikers, at least a hundred motorcycles, on either side of us, and before we knew what was happening or where we should try to drive, cars had blocked us in from the front and the back. We both sat in silence, waiting for the English or German words to come to us that would dictate the hilarity/helplessness of the situation, but there was no time. Suddenly, every biker started its engine, and slowly bikes we never even saw peeled from the street from every direction until we were alone and facing the perfect parking place revealed before us.

And that was my first 5 minutes in Amsterdam. The rest of the day was a whirlwind of following canals, stumbling across cute shops, taking in the sights of the flower markets, and finding two pairs of high heels within 10 minutes. That night we visited the Ann Frank Annex right before closing time, something that I would recommend to everyone if I ever write a travel book. The line to the museum was a couple blocks long earlier in the day, but that evening, besides a few other stragglers, we were alone to take in what I remember as the most interesting story covered in all of my English classes. There was something eerie and completely mesmerizing about walking around during the only time the previous tenants were allowed to move, to breath without holding back, and to return ever so slightly back into themselves. My last hours in Amsterdam consisted of a cumulation of first time experiences:  visiting a typical Amsterdam coffee shop; seeing working prostitutes in the Red Light District; being enclosed on all sides by singing  intoxicated Dutch in a mini karaoke bar; buying a hot dog off of the street (which I’ve never done in the States!); ordering room service; and the next morning, getting to see 100 Van Gogh’s in the same room during a visit to his museum.

Hey! That's my last name.

Canals, Canals Everywhere. 

Flower Market

Secret Bookcase in the Ann Frank Haus

Those little red barriers mark the Red Light District.

Our Breakfast Buddy

Van Gogh Museum

I can’t even begin to thank Sandra enough for all of the planning and driving she put into our trip, to thank Christof for agreeing to take on the mission of “Mathis Alone for Four Days”, and to thank Martha for being the greatest fill-in Au Pair in existence. Thankies. Thank you so much. Danke schön.

Greatest. Christmas Present. Ever.

Carnival - Karneval

What is there to say about celebrating Carnival in Germany? Actually, not a whole bunch, since everyone I asked about it seemed to have a hard time explaining it to me. Christof said it was full of strange people. Sandra said I just need to see for myself. Sandra’s Thursday morning class said to tell me it was a mix between MTV Spring Break, Mardi Gras, and Halloween. Needless to say I was extremely interested, and  Alla and I headed out the Thursday before Lent to explore the possibilities. 

After some courage provided by champagne, I dressed up as a dinosaur in order to fit in with the masses, and was picked up by Alla (in a blonde wig and pink cowboy hat) headed with her family to Rietburg for the big parade. Too bad her host family had to meet me for the first time when I was dressed as a dinosaur, but what can you do. 

dinosaur.

By the end of the evening, which came early around 8pm, Alla and I still couldn’t pin point the meaning of it all. We’d witnessed old women dressed as witches, who captured men off of the street to put in a jail on wheels. We’d seen groups of people dressed in the same costumes and yelling “Hillaw!”. We’d been given way more free drinks than appropriate.  In order to seek refuge from the cold we found a beer tent and even though my feet were killing me due to wearing high heels for the first time since living in Germany, the music and the dancing got to us. However, after a man dressed as a doctor announcing to the whole tent I was an American, on top of a female proposing marriage to Alla, and on top of the heel breaking completely off of the boots Sandra let me borrow, we knew it was time to call it a night. 

Mass confusion in costume.

They just found these poor men in the street.

How do you say "politically incorrect" in German?

oh HI!

My next Carnival experience came the following Monday, when we dressed Mathis up in his Halloween bear costume, Sandra became a princess, and I found my trusty dinosaur costume once again. We met up with the Kückmann crew and watched the parade that ran from Rheda to Wiedenbrück. The parade was very similar to the local ones back home, and the best part was watching Ben scavenging candy like a wild man, seeing Tom walking constantly in the opposite direction (learning to walk is definitely more exciting than a parade!), and seeing Mathis completely satisfied with the whole situation, like the parade was put on solely for his viewing pleasure. 

Back in the bear costume.

Parades are so fun!

Greatest Picture Ever.

The Kückmann family and their great costumes.

Then I gave up desserts for Lent, and in return lost my reason to live. 

Baking and Bodybuilding - Backen und Körperkultur

I have a whole bunch of love for Paula Deen. Her creativity, her southern charm, her shocking ability to still be alive. But since living in Germany, I've had a lot of negative feelings towards her chocolate chip cookie recipe. I’ve blamed the baking soda. I’ve blamed the baking powder. Most recently I’ve blamed the German air. But I am very happy to report that through the careful utilization of the scientific method and the internet, we have chocolate chip cookies! 

What’s the secret? Yeast! Don’t ask me why, but it worked wonderfully and now I can check "chewy chocolate chip cookies" off my list of important American foods to fatten up the Germans with cook while I’m here. Paula is back on my good list.

In other news, Mathis is a wild man! He babbles constantly. He can crawl. He can sit on his knees. He can stand himself up holding on to anything for awhile all day. When his friend came over for a visit, I had to stand guard so Mathis wouldn't crawl all over her, literally. Oh, boys. Let’s all take a moment to feel sorry for his poor, more mobile Au Pair. Yeah, I figured that wouldn’t last very long. 

"Girls are confusing!" - Mathis Niemeier

MADRID, SPAIN

“Well, do you speak German maybe? No? French? Not that either? Well that’s probably best, those wouldn’t have been that helpful anyway.”

Now making an appearance on my To Do List: learn Spanish. 

This weekend I flew to Madrid, officially adding Spain to the list of places I’ve visited. It was literally a weekend trip in duration, and since it was so short, my observations will probably end up being slightly superficial. In a nutshell, Spain in wild, but not the wild I’d expected. 

On my way Saturday morning, I felt so incredibly ill for a number of reasons, including a number of beers Friday evening, not enough sleep that night, some sort of bug that I’d caught, and having to stand in a cramped, overly warm train car for almost 2 hours. This is not a good time to feel sick, since in order to get to my hostel from my house here, I had to take 1 car, 3 trains, 1 bus, 1 airplane, 4 subway lines, and then it was “just a short walk to the doorstep of the hostel”, quoted from the hostel’s website. Needless to say, I was exhausted. I fell asleep for an hour before Maria came to pick me up for a delicious meal of tapas and sangria.  I have known Maria and her family for as long as I can remember, and it was so great to be able to meet her in Europe, especially since she can speak Spanish! I fell asleep again for a couple of hours before Meredith and Sami burst into our hostel room. Meredith is my good friend from College of Charleston, and Sami and she are studying abroad in France this year, so it was really lucky it worked out for us to meet in Madrid. Meredith was down for the count for Saturday evening with a case of food poisoning, and after exploring the nightlife and finding nothing that impressed, Sami and I were back at the hostel within an hour. 

Maria and Me and Tapas

Saturday everyone woke up and felt better, so we were off to find this great market of which we’d all heard rumors. It was supposed to have over 500 vendors with everything from clothes, to jewelry, to spanish fans, to who knows what. We approached the spot on our map, but vendor after vendor had only coins. Coins and stamps. Plastic casings for coins and stamps, and more coins, and more stamps. We eventually asked our way to the right place, and the rumors were true. It was overwhelming huge ,and I bought a leather bracelet, a leather wallet, and found my magnet which I buy in every place I visit. Man, I love markets. The rest of the day including wandering through the huge city park, which held a lake with row boats and great modern art sculptures, and then a (free!) trip to Museo del Prado, which is one of the most well-known art museums in the world. Spanish art has never been right up my alley, but it was great to see some Goya and El Greco up close and personal. We ate churros with hot chocolate dipping sauce. We napped. Meredith was food poisoned still. Sami and I went in search of nightlife one more time. Everything was closed. We slept some more. 

Street Art

1/100th of the Market

Colorful Spanish Fans

Buildings with Frescos and Blue Skies

Spaniards enjoy strangely shaped trees.

Monday morning, we made one last trip back to the market area in search of a specific food. The day before we’d seen over 100 people eating a fried calamari sandwich, and knew it was something we had to try. It was exactly as can be expected: fried stuff on bread. I would love to see more of Spain. I’m sure this is going to be an overgeneralization, but Madrid felt so alive. There was so much walking and talking and fighting and kissing, and even though it rained a couple times while I was there, thousands of umbrellas were still bobbing around the pedestrian streets, coming in and out of the subway, and greeting each other whole-heartedly. Also, I love how different their Spanish is from what I’m used to, saying most words with a slight lisp. It’s like they are biting their tongues while saying “Gracias”. (Try it! It’s fun!)

Love how many trees are in the city.

Madrid makes me want to tile everything I own.

A couple exciting things happened on the way back, which ended up lasting 11 hours. I saw the flipping over of an airport luggage cart in tow to fill an airplane. It was within 100 meters of its destination, meaning all of the passengers got to witness their checked luggage flying threw the air. The shuttle bus driver gave me free transportation to the train station, which was great. I looked in correctly at the train timetables and had a minor panic attack when I thought I’d be arriving home at 6:30AM, but I didn’t, which was great. Some guy tried to explain to me in one train station that he wasn’t bad and asked for money very forcefully, and a total stranger walking by yelled at him to stop and leave me alone, which was also great. If you happen to read this, Random Hero, thank you for saving me. Great food, great friends, great weekend. 

Very next on the To Do List: not being sick.