August 1 - Budapest (written by Andy)

We worked hard for a vacation day, hiking all over Budapest and traveling some distance away from town to further quench my thirst for retro-communism. At Jenny's recommendation we started by climbing the steps to a hill that overlooks the Danube on the Buda side of the river. There we walked at a slow pace, savoring the views and grooving on the quiet of a medieval village that hasn't been turned entirely into a Disney-fied version of itself. For lunch, Jenny sampled some goulash soup while I downed a regrettable slice of pizza. Oh, well. At least there was dessert, a Kürtőskalács pastry horn that tasted like a crunchy doughnut.

They say the steps downhill are than the uphill climb - harder on the knees at least - but I cheered each clomp toward the river and across Chain Bridge, because blue skies had finally begun to peek through the clouds. For a while we checked out St. Stephen's Basilica, which is perhaps most notable for showcasing the hand of Saint Stephen I who lived more than 1,000 years ago and is viewed by most Hungarians as the father of their country. Jenny found the display a little weird, wondering often afterward just how sure they were that this particular hand belonged to this particular guy. After ten centuries, how could they know for sure?

We'd hardly been on the Pest side an hour before I decided that we had to grab a metro back across the river to photograph Budapest's neo-gothic parliament building in glorious afternoon light. Jenny, ever flexible, agreed and we returned to one of Budapest's impressively ancient subway cars for the ride. Topside, looking out over the Danube, I remember another photographer grinning at me as we both studied the departing clouds, waiting for them to slowly spin apart enough to let the sun shine fully upon the building's facade. Once more I recalled William Gibson's words on the subject: "Architectural photography can involve a lot of waiting; the building becomes a kind of sundial, while you wait for a shadow to crawl away from a detail you want, or for the mass and balance of the structure to reveal itself in a certain way."

Throughout the day I'd made my peace with the fact that we'd probably not see one place that had attracted me to this town, Memento Park. I'd read that the Park boasts a collection of Soviet-era statues that had been torn down elsewhere and, rather than face demolition, were collected into this place. Our day's organization had precluded use of the tram that occasionally runs well out of town directly to the Park, and I've never been too excited about figuring out local bus systems.

Purse-snatching sign on Budapest bus

Metros, I can handle. Jenny, however, was feeling adventuresome (and she has the patience to sort through the picayune details), so she spread out the maps and charted a course. We found a tram and, after a few stops in the wrong direction, and alighted at a bus stop heading out of town. Then, after dropping off and picking up passengers every couple minutes, we arrived at Memento Park - two hours after we left the hotel.

Was it worth it? Well, anything that demands such time had better be worth the hassle. Actually, though the place was smaller than I expected, I was enchanted and saddened with the array of Communist-era art. At Memento Park, a vanguard of the revolution races toward the Worker's Paradise, carrying a flag that streams behind him. Elsewhere, stern but heroic women in bronze stand quiet and forthright, ready to bear any burden to help unleash the utopia that would never come [click here for more images]. The sun was setting, casting long shadows, and we walked slowly. Maybe five or six other tourists were were snapping pictures in the orange light. Just before the office, with its supposedly original memorabilia and goofy souvenirs, I spotted a new acquisition: a relief of soldiers sharing a fraternal handshake. They were lying on the ground, like cheerful corpses, next to an upright statue wrapped in plastic. When it was time to go, Jenny and I sat a while at a lonely bus stop while the sky turned pink. I imagined us waiting for a ride that might never come, far away from the city. But the bus eventually lumbered along and we drove another hour back to the city.

Back in Budapest, Jenny and I walked along the Danube once more, holding hands. Lamp posts cast yellow streaks over the water and we felt like we were inhabiting the kind of romantic movie that our grandparents might have watched. The evening was winding down when I spotted a guy hunched over on the sidewalk, using a spray can to paint a stencil onto the concrete. I'd been searching for spray art in every town we'd visited, but I never thought we'd see someone producing the stuff. I was flummoxed. Should I try to get picture, or should I avoid looking any more like a tourist than I already do? I'd decided to keep moving when Jenny insisted I turn around ("30 seconds later it would have started eating at your craw and you would have insisted we go back anyway!"). She was right, naturally, and I met him and his crew of pals who'd committed to painting fish around town to protest the Danube's declining water life. They were friendly, earnest folks who enjoyed talking about their project and offered me a map for their other spraying locations. I felt silly about my initial anxiety. How scary can anyone be who would spray paint fish onto the pavement?



We wandered a bit some more, searching for a place to grab dinner. Dodging taxis we crossed streets and quiet roads before spotting the glow of the basilica we'd visited earlier that day. Once more Jenny requested a bowl of goulash soup, and once again I opted for a regrettable piece of pizza. Nearby, a drunken group of revelers began belting out four part harmony that attained nearly operatic quality. A comfy bed waited just a few metro stops away.

Day 9 | Day 11

July 31 - Prague (written by Jenny)

Our second day in Prague and as soon as we get out of the hotel we know it will be a better day than yesterday. With the sky still grey but with less rain, we can walk without the use of umbrellas. I can appreciate this gorgeous city a whole lot more when I can look up and see things! And did I mention I love the night trains? Go to sleep and then wake up in a new place! And what a time saver! We have two full days in Prague with just one night because we didn’t have to use our days for travel. I love it!

We did so much today I don’t know where to begin. I guess I should start with the mundane; we got a new camera. It had to be done because there’s no way we could go the rest of this trip without it. But it seems like every two years we have to buy a new camera on a trip. I know we’ve done it at least three times. But it’s worth it so we can save our memories. Plus, it wasn’t that arduous. We researched a bit last night and then got a Canon PowerShot (the European version, at least). It seems to work just fine for what we need.

The fun stuff began with climbing the tower at the Old Town Hall in the square. This is the tower with the astronomical clock, and it has an amazing view of the city. You can see all the way to the castle and the Petrin Tower, with all those lovely red roofs speckled with towers and cathedrals along the way. While we were up there, the hour passed, and not only did the clocks go off below but a trumpeter came out and played the traditional tune that is played every hour. I grew to love that sound. I came to dread it too, as it meant another hour past. But it’s always a lot of fun to hear the trumpeter and see his red and yellow flag-like sleeve wave in the air when he’s done. There are lots of neat traditions that they carry on these days. Another one is the uniformed guards at the Charles Bridge towers and at the castle. It’s like going back in time.

We made our way to the Charles Bridge, always stopping along the way to look at shops or take pictures of whatever caught our fancy. We finally began to know our way through the streets that wind around closely packed buildings. But every street is charming, with cobblestones and beautiful old architecture, so even when we get lost, it’s OK because we enjoyed everything we saw around us. We found a spot just south of the bridge that juts out into the river, which allowed us a great shot of the bridge and castle: a great view for self-portraits.

On the other side of the bridge we found the John Lennon memorial wall. We’re not sure why there is a John Lennon memorial wall in Prague, but I suppose it’s because he did some cool things here or lived here at some point. Anyway, it is a living monument where people come along and paint or write whatever they want in remembrance of the beloved Beatle. Unfortunately, the message has degenerated over the years as other kinds of graffiti often obscure the original message. Who knows? Maybe that was the original intention and John Lennon wouldn’t have minded. It was a pretty neat thing to see, anyway.

A block or two away was another interesting cultural piece: an iron fence covered with locks. Again, we couldn’t figure out the purpose of this site, but we loved the idea of people adding to the artwork by donating locks. Throughout our trip we saw other similar collections. I think I overheard someone say that lovers lock their promises at these places. How romantic!

Our next wanderings led us through the “Lesser Town," up the steep hills toward the castle. The walk was a bit arduous, but we knew it would be worth it. We headed to the Strahov Monastery. I had seen some pictures of the chapel here, and it is gorgeous, so we thought we’d give it a try. It was a bit disappointing, though, because we paid about $3 for each of our tickets but didn’t find out until the end that we weren’t allowed to even go into the chapel. We saw several other beautiful rooms, some with paintings on the ceilings and ornate pulpits, even a funeral casket. Sorry, we often couldn’t read the descriptions, since they were in Czech. We did get to peer into the chapel from an outside door with windows, but we couldn’t really see much.

Afterward, on our way to the castle, we stopped for a quick lunch and encountered another stern waiter. This one just outright said that he had no tap water. Yeah, right. No matter, the castle was stunning! We started by seeing some gorgeous views of the whole city from the hilltop. The castle gate had two motionless guards in light-blue uniforms, one on each side. Once you walked through the gate, you were standing at the foot of a huge cathedral with ornate details. We could go into the cathedral, but we didn’t feel like paying for pricey tickets. Pictures from the back were fine with us. It was stunning enough from there. Stained-glass windows in mosaic styles showed the twelve apostles. Vaulted ceilings drew our eyes upward, and the pulpit was magnificent, even from a distance. We took our photos, but they wouldn’t allow Andy to use his tripod, which is typical for these places.

Outside we walked around the cathedral. We couldn’t learn much about the details, but it was lovely all the same. From one point, on our way out of the complex, we looked down again at the city. Not far from the castle, but at the bottom of the big hill, we saw a place that was all black and looked burned out. We decided that when we got down we’d look for that spot, and we’re glad we did.

We walked down the old castle stairs. There are also the newer castle stairs, but these seemed a better idea. We found our way to the building that was surrounded by a wall. Before too long we spotted a doorway. To our surprise, there was no entrance fee, so we just walked in to discover a beautiful garden. There was a lovely pool of water and hedges that formed pathways toward that burned-out area. On our walk through, we spotted a white peacock with her two chicks: a gorgeous bird with a crown of feathers on her head and the two chicks sticking close to her all the time. We got a bit sidetracked from our objective. We loved watching those peacocks.

Getting back on track, we meandered through the hedges to a back garden area in front of a large building marked “Senate.” Oh, so this was where the Senate meets, which kind of explains why the gardens were free. And just beyond the Senate building, we found the spot we’d been looking for. Only it wasn’t a burned-out building. It was actually part of the garden, and the black stuff we thought was charred remains was actually an artificial rock wall. It looked like it had been melted and dripped on. It had stalactites of dripping rock mingled with greenery and flowers. The placard said that it was meant to convey a blurring of artificial and natural elements. And that there were faces of monsters mixed into the rock to add a sense of mystery. We had to look hard, but we finally saw those creepy faces in the wall. What a creative addition to the garden! Nearby, owls kept a close eye on us from a large cage. And not far away, an alcove leading up to a building contained gorgeous paintings that hung form the ceiling. We were glad that we were led to this beautiful garden.

On our way back to the Charles Bridge, we found a spot by the river where we could photograph that romantic walkway from another angle. Not far from there was a real treat: a Franz Kafka museum. Though we didn’t go in, we were able to see the interesting sculpture in the courtyard of two naked men peeing. Yeah, it’s pretty much exactly what you expect, except the men were green with stripes, like they were created with layers. Andy, of course, was enthralled and made a video of it from several angles.


On the other end of the Bridge, just as we were about to come off of it, we heard music and saw people lined up looking over the edge. Well, of course we had to investigate! Though it was hard to see over the people, we caught a glimpse of two ballet dancers on a travelling boat stage who were practicing their art before a group of enthralled tourists. Andy found a good spot from which to see, so we stayed and watched for a few minutes. I love finding musical performances spontaneously, especially such beautiful ones. It’s these kinds of things that add the magic to each city.

We made our way back to the old town square to pick up our camera and get some dinner. We wanted to try the little stands selling ham on spits and sausage over the open fire. It just looked good and we thought it must be a bit cheaper than other places. Well it was tasty but not cheaper. Still, we got our fill of great food and then got some chocolate from a nearby shop. Really we were just waiting for the town hall clock to chime again. I wanted to get some good footage of the twelve apostles that circle two by two from tiny little doors every hour. This time was much better than yesterday because there wasn’t a bunch of umbrellas in the way. Andy got some great footage and, once more, we saw that wonderful trumpeter.

The last thing I wanted to do in Prague before getting on our night train was to get a good picture of the Charles Bridge and the castle at night, all lit up. So we took one more walk. While we waited for the darkness to come, we heard more music coming from the stage on the river. There was a lovely soprano opera singer performing a beautiful piece. Right afterward we saw another ballet couple performing something a bit more edgy (I could tell from the style of the woman’s red dress). I know these weren’t spontaneous shows, but I loved them anyway. We did capture some beautiful shots and then it was time to go. We knew we would miss this lovely city, and we wanted to preserve our memories.

From here, we took our first underground back to our hotel, grabbed our bags, and got right back on the metro. Our goal was the train station at the other side of town. Of course we were there a bit early so spent some time writing and editing photos. The train came right on time and we grabbed our sleeper cabin and got ready for bed. But the next thing we noticed was that we were stopping in the train station near our hotel. Shoot! That meant that we could have spent about another hour out in the city instead of going all over town and waiting at the first station. Well, there was nothing we could do about it, so we settled in for a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow we hit Budapest, Hungary. Another new city, another new undiscovered country!

Day 8 | Day 10

July 30 - Prague (written by Andy)

We woke up an hour before pulling into the Prague station, with just enough time to organize our gear and freshen up. Splurging on a private compartment on a night train may be bad for our budget, but I surely loved the quiet and privacy of the trip. Best of all, we'd traveled plenty of miles without losing an opportunity to spend all day in a city about which I knew almost nothing. Our only disappointment was the drizzle that drifted down from grey skies. At least our hotel was near by, a block away from the station. And the manager let us have a room, though we arrived at around nine in the morning. Right away we opened our laptops to gloriously free wifi, looked up a few Czech phrases, and picked a path to the Old Town.

Now if you've read this far you'll note that we use that phrase to describe the premodern center of a town where stone walls and narrow alleys typically surround a square a cathedral and other religious sites. That's what I expected from Prague. And since Jenny and I had crossed a facsimile of Charles Bridge at the 2010 World's Fair, I added that item to our itinerary as well. Otherwise I had no clue what to expect. What we found: block after block of centuries-old buildings, winding cobblestone streets, and cheery outdoor cafes. We'd turn one corner and see something even more beautiful: marionettes on display, folk dancers in the central square, hidden walkways that formed interior passages, flag draped battlements marking garrison edges, and stone castles set atop distant hills.

Before long we joined a crowd waiting under the astronomical clock, all of us hoisting umbrellas in the light rain. For our patience we were rewarded with animatronic apostles that rotated above us. To mark the time, a trumpeter in medieval costume played triumphant notes that echoed across town. I felt sorry for patrons of a restaurant behind us, though. The advertisement for Great View of Astronomical Clock likely didn't forecast the presence of thronging tourists standing in front of the tables to snap photos.

We sat down for a tasty lunch at a nearby cafe. Our waiter took one look at our white socks and Jenny's preference for tap water and treated us with disdain. Jenny made no friends in the restaurant's WC, either, especially after asking why we should pay to pee after already committing to buy a pricey lunch there. We'd miscalculated the exchange rate between dollars and koruna, and we dreaded the final cost of our meal. Later on we'd find that the cost of sustenance in Prague is not quite as awful as we initially suspected. It's merely insane.

I'd seen signs for something called the Museum of Communism; the image of a sweet Russian nesting doll baring fangs caught my attention. Jenny agreed that any indoor activity would offer a nice diversion from the rain, so off we went in search of the place. As many other visitors have noted, there is a certain irony in the placement of a museum dedicated to the Czech Republic's communist era: near a casino and above a McDonalds. Nonetheless the site is worthwhile, featuring a mocked-up classroom where a red kerchief-wearing girl is reciting some koan of Marxist dogma, an industrial workplace where the New Socialist Man is reminded that "Timely Arrival to Work Deals the Decisive Strive Against the American Aggressors!" and a bleak interrogation office where a desk lamp shines into the eyes of anyone unlucky enough to be dragged within. After a film commemorating the violence, upheaval, and courage that led to the events of 1989 the museum concludes with a walk along an ersatz Berlin Wall.

Later on we made a pilgrimage to the "Ginger and Fred" building, also known as the Nationale-Nederlanden building. In classes where I introduce postmodern architecture to my students, this is a go-to image. At the same time I've always felt a bit strange discussing a place I'd never seen personally. It was therefore a special treat to make our way toward the river's edge and see it for real. From there we followed narrow streets in search of spray art (a guilty pleasure of mine) and a restaurant called the Iron Curtain. I heard the owner had fashioned a clever retro-Communist enclave there. The place could easily be called The Dungeon, because the restaurant is built in a dark, almost cave-like, underground set of rooms. The ambiance is somehow perfect, with paintings of Mikhail Gorbachev competing with Maggie Thatcher, and a collection of Soviet-era posters that calls to mind the creepy optimism of a future that is now abandoned on history's ash heap. The food was pretty terrific too, especially for the uncharacteristically reasonable cost.

The weather continued to coat the city with a depressing pallor, a feeling intensified by the growing realization that our travel camera had ceased emitting occasionally quirky noises when the lens was extended and had finally died. Here we are, I thought, in freaking Prague, and our camera has gone kaput. I remembered a similar crisis in the Australian outback when we had to settle for a cheap plastic film replacement after another camera bit the dust [literally - One sharp gust knocked our tripod to the ground and we were without a means to take pictures of the amazing places we were seeing]. Hell, we had to replace a much more expensive camera just two years ago after a similar bit of bad luck! Somehow we regularly manage to offend the travel gods. Fortunately Prague abounds with tourist conveniences, including two camera shops across the same road. The next day, we decided, we would pay the price and get a decent travel camera for the rest of our trip. And who cares about a little rain?

Day 7 | Day 9

July 29 - Frankfurt to Prague (written by Jenny)

Today was going to be an exciting day for me. As a brief background, if you’ve known me a while you know that in 2007 I travelled with my company, Seagate, to New Zealand for a team-building adventure race: four days of training on bikes, orienteering, repelling and rowing and then a day for our team to race against 20 or so other teams through the wilderness. It was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. But when it was over, I didn’t think I’d ever see some of my teammates again. They were four guys from around the world: one from Milpitas, California so I have seen him a couple of times at employee meetings, one from Colorado who we actually met up with once in Miami when we happened to be there at the same time, one from Singapore and one from Ireland, though he is actually a German now living in (drum roll please) Frankfurt! Yes I actually put Frankfurt on the itinerary so that I could see my old teammate, Torsten and I was quite giddy with anticipation. But he and his family were not available until the evening, so we spent the day exploring more of Frankfurt since we didn’t get to see much the night before.

Also because we’d been on the road for a week already it was time for some laundry. The nearest Laundromat was about one kilometer away, or about .62 miles to you and me. We took the U-bahn to keep things simple. The laundromat itself was an interesting adventure. Not only was it all in German but you’re expected to select your washer and dryer, and pay at a central station on the wall (not at the machine itself). So it took us a few minutes of studying, guessing, and putting the puzzle together to figure out how to make one of the machines run. But we conquered it and felt pretty good about ourselves afterward. Once the clothes were in and we verified that water was actually pouring into the machine we were free to roam the streets - well, for 40 minutes anyway, until the cycle was over.

We were in a shopping district on Zeil street, and as we walked we saw malls and markets along the way. In one stall of an open market, we saw some men cooking sausages, all laid out on a big round grill hanging by three chains. The men were swinging the grill across a fire pit, presumably to cook the sausages evenly. It was pretty neat. Once the wash was done and dry, we stopped back at the hotel to pack, shower, and check out. We still had all afternoon to explore.

Just a block or two away from our hotel was the old town square that had been destroyed in the war. Romerberg, as it’s called, has been restored and has amazing old architecture that looks like new. Andy’s main goal of the day was to get a good picture of the buildings in this square, which turned out to be no easy feat. For one, the sun was in and out of the clouds all day so sometimes we’d have good light and sometimes not. Usually not, actually. Secondly, there were quite a few more people in the square than during the previous night, so composing a shot that didn’t involve people dominating the picture was difficult. We returned to the square several times, each with varying results. Finally, later in the afternoon, the clouds cleared away enough that Andy had a good window of opportunity to get his shot.

One of our stops during the day was Paulskirche, a church located about a block from Romerberg with a long history as both a religious edifice and a political one, where parliament was actually held at one point. Many important decisions in Germany’s history were made there. Paulskirche was ravaged by wartime bombings and fire, but afterward the mayor rallied the city to restore it as a memorial. Now it has been redone, with displays and a video on its history, a circular mural right in the middle of the main floor, and a bright, airy upper room that contains a lovely pipe organ. It was an interesting history lesson for us.

After Paulskirche it began to rain - and it wasn’t the light California rain we’re used to. It was more like the heavy thundershower type we had in Florida growing up. We ducked under the umbrellas of one of the pubs in Romerberg and had lunch: sausage and sauerkraut for me, again! I love that stuff. But, here’s the other edge of the sword of the orderliness and rule-following that we love about Germany. I asked if I could have half sauerkraut and half potato salad (a request that is usually accommodated here in the states) and I got a stern “no, no.” OK, no changes to the menu. I get it. Luckily, the rain didn’t last long and we were on our way again after lunch.

We wandered around for a while longer, saw a giant Euro symbol, kept trying to take pictures of the Romerberg square, found some open markets and narrow alleyways to enjoy, and stopped for a quick refreshment. Here, I got another dose of that double-edged sword. Andy got a cappuccino type drink with a lovely cube of dark chocolate on a stick for stirring. The chocolate was very tasty, and since I don’t drink coffee I asked the waitress if I could get just the chocolate. “No, no, no” was her reply before she walked away. OK, I have to learn my lesson better, I guess. Oh, and the Germans hate it when you order tap water, even if you’re getting a big meal. They want to sell you a bottle are are delighted to charge a premium if you’re the slightest bit vague about your preferences. When I am clear that I merely want tap water, I get dismissive glances. Oh well, I want what I want.

Late in the afternoon we went to see the Dom, which is one of the few cathedrals around in this largely Protestant country. It was a real treat. The inside was quite ornate like most cathedrals, and it had the most interesting pipe organ. Some of the pipes stuck out and curved outward to look like a couple of waves next to the vertical ones. It was very cool looking. The organist played interesting music, though most of it didn’t sound religious (and sometimes it didn't sound like music at all). It was more dirge-like, a conglomeration of dark sounding chords. But his playing revealed another set of pipes away from the main set. This was a bit surprising and lent well to the coolness factor of the whole organ. How many of you get turned on by pipe organs? I’m betting a least a couple!

Finally it was time to go and meet Torsten and his family. We waited patiently at the end of the iron bridge called Eiserner Steg. Then I saw him bounding up in a green t-shirt to give me a big hug. What a thrill to see someone I never thought I would again. It’s kind of like magic in a way, but then in another way I felt like it was meant to be. Have you ever experienced that? His little girl, Maya, came running up behind him. She is two and a half, adorable and so full of energy! Torsten’s girlfriend (Maya’s mom), Layla, came up after with the stroller. It was wonderful to meet her and introduce them all to Andy. Pleasantries done, we walked across the bridge together and sat down at a nearby restaurant on a boat for a quick refreshment. While the adults chatted, Maya explored, ran away as much as Layla would let her and played with her tiny stuffed dogs. She had three of them. Though each wore different colored hats, they were otherwise indistinguishable; she’d named them all “Jasper” – so cute! Maya sat on my lap for a while and we played with her stuffies while I half-paid attention to the conversation. Years of multitasking at work pay off!

Torsten and Layla then took us to their neighborhood, a short walk along the river. We saw ducks, geese, and swans, and Layla showed us a nearby island that serves as a bird sanctuary. Maya insisted on feeding the birds, so we took a few minutes to throw bits of bread out to them. Torsten then carried her on his shoulders as we moved on. In their neighborhood, Torsten and Layla found us a great authentic German restaurant where everyone sits outside at long tables to enjoy sausages, cured pork, pig knuckles, and sauerkraut. It was a great place with wonderful food (I had the schnitzel). Torsten and Andy got along famously. Of course, I knew they would get along as great drinking buddies. Torsten recommended biers and Andy drank them. It was a winning combination. Maya was a constant bundle of energy. She had too much to do to sit still. A gentleman pointed out a playground across the street, so we took turns taking her over for a few minutes at a time. Otherwise, we talked and ate and drank and had a great time.

Later on, Torsten walked with us back to our hotel to get our bags and help us decipher our train ticket while Layla took Maya home. Once we discovered we didn’t need to be to the train station until 1:00 am, and since the train station was right next to their apartment, we had extra time to hit a pub for some more conversation. This time the boys ordered apfelwein, a cider for which Frankfurt is famous. Then Torsten mentioned his bottle of LaPhroaig back at the apartment. Great. That’s Andy’s new favorite spirit, since he discovered it in Scotland. Torsten insisted on taking us back to his place so Andy could enjoy one last small drink. So while I worried about getting to the station on time, Torsten and Andy got more and more relaxed. Torsten would look out off of his terrace to see if our train was on the track, reassuring me that since it wasn’t there, we had nothing to worry about. I trusted him - mostly.

Finally and unfortunately the night had to come to an end. Torsten walked us to the station and made sure we got to the right place, and then we said our goodbyes. I don’t know if I will get to see him again, but I’m so grateful for the wonderful opportunity I had to see him and meet his family. Plus, if they ever come out to California, he knows we have a place for them to stay. Andy and I got to the train just fine and into our sleeper cabin. Andy was, of course, out like a light in a couple of minutes. I lay awake a while longer, remembering the wonderful times we just had with our friends in Frankfurt. I absolutely love seeing friends and this is now my favorite part of the trip (sorry bagpiper). Tomorrow we will be in Prague, Czech Republic, starting a new day and a new adventure!

Day 6 | Day 8

July 28 - Humburg to Frankfurt (written by Andy)

Sleeping in: such pleasure, such rarity! But today we splurged and allowed the morning to drift by for two hours. And why not? Aside from plans to visit Miniature Wonderland - the purpose for adding Hamburg to our itinerary - we had no specific agenda for this town. Nonetheless, Jenny and I agreed that we'd stumbled onto a lovely place. A working place, yes, with plenty of construction projects and a palpable sense that architecture must first be functional before it can be beautiful, but also an undeniably delightful place to walk. We bought a day pass for the U-Bahn, knowing that no one would check to see that we paid. What a difference from London, when every coming and going requires some queue to pass through a ticketing barrier. Jenny added to our reflections on the town by commenting how much she loves the German appreciation for punctuality.

I could therefore hardly be surprised to find at the Miniature Wonderland a long line to enter, counterbalanced by "fast pass" tickets for reserved times later in the afternoon. While I dreaded the prospect of shifting our visit so near our planned departure, I couldn't imagine an alternative. So we snapped up two early afternoon reservations and commenced to wandering the town some more. Aimlessly we crossed canal after canal and ambled as our instincts led us. Whatever caught our eyes - a sculpture, an outdoor market, or an interesting piece of architecture: that's where we'd direct our feet.

A couple hours later, though, we both were ready for a break. That's when I realized we'd paid for day passes and were hardly using them. I looked at the map and noticed a museum in a nearby suburb, Volksdorf, that appeared to showcase German rural life. Jenny was game and, about a half hour later, we were there. As much as we enjoy Hamburg, the difference between a relatively big city and this small village provided a calming respite. Figuring on the time it'd take to return, we estimated a window of only about 20 minutes to enjoy this place. Fortunately we had no difficulty finding the museum, which offers free admittance to folks who merely want to walk around the grounds. We loved our visit.

Our final stop was Miniature Wonderland, a fascinating collection of tiny worlds with blinking, moving, storytelling versions of places whose actual expanse exceeds the singular gaze. The place was packed with camera wielding folks jockeying for position to take snapshots - especially of the new airport with traffic-jammed departure roads, moving fuel trucks, and jets arriving and landing every few minutes. Best of all, like any great miniature attraction, lights dimmed and brightened to produce the effect of night and day. We stayed as long as we could, determined not to miss our train for Frankfurt, yet I am sure we could have wandered those cramped walkways all day and never discovered every little visual gag or clever depiction of everyday life, both simple and fantastic.


The minutes ticking away before our departure, we walked along the waterfront to a metro station. We'd grown comfortably accustomed to the efficiency and speed of the trains that whisked us through the city. After finding our hotel to grab our bags, we tramped back to the underground and then to the train station. There we snarfed down yet another meal of sausages and potato salad before boarding our train. Our bags were growing tighter as our collection of souvenirs continued to grow. At the same time we both felt more connected to each zipper pocket and hidden compartment, having spent so much time living out of our luggage. Traveling experts will tell you that "If it's Tuesday, it must be Belgium"-type tourism is a shoddy way to see the world. Heck, I'd agree. But Jenny and I love the newness of our experiences, where every day brims with fresh delight. Thus a little more than three hours later we found ourselves bumping along the cobblestones of Frankfurt's medieval center. Our hotel was merely a block away and we had a new place to discover.

Day 5 | Day 7

July 27 - London to Hamburg (written by Jenny)

Today started out pretty easy with just a flight from London to Hamburg, Germany on the docket. We slept in and got a late breakfast at the hotel, and then it was back to Gatwick to catch our flight. So far we’ve been flying EasyJet on these short legs, and we were skeptical because we’d never heard of them and because they have a strict one carry-on bag policy, which is lame since we never check bags. But we’ve actually been pleasantly surprised with their efficiency, attention to safety, and courteousness. So, today was an OK travel day.

Riding the underground (the U-bahn and S-bahn) was just as easy as in London, and it brought us within a five-minute walk of our hotel, which was within a block of a tall TV tower that is quite noticeable from most spots in the city. This hotel has a great location, but the architecture suffers from the lameness of the “International” style. It’s a big square glass box with lots of smaller boxes in alternating shades of light blue and white. If I were to see it in San Jose or Tampa, I would think it was really old and run down.

Thankfully when we got in it was clean, very neat and orderly - just how a German hotel should be. Speaking of which, we noticed the high German standards of efficiency and cleanliness right away and knew we would like this country. Andy said that this is what a country is like when people pay their taxes. Made sense to me, but I have also always heard of the German culture being this way, so I ascribe it to their history and way of life. I salute the Germans for that and for all their clocks (It’s nice to always know what time it is)! Anyway about the hotel: the room was more spacious than our London room and was comfortable and quiet.

We didn’t really expect to do much in Hamburg, but having arrived shortly before dinnertime we knew we had to get out and explore; and I had a hankering for some German sausage with sauerkraut. When we asked for a map from the nice lady at the front desk, she circled the city center for us and pointed out the correct underground to get out there. After another pretty easy U-bahn ride, we arrived in a beautiful downtown area with modern buildings alongside the old historic ones. There were a few spires of different cathedrals shooting up among the more modern buildings. And we were alongside a waterway.

It looked like a lake that connected to canals that crept through the city. As we walked, we came to several open-air tents, like a market. Sure enough, most of them were restaurants selling delicious looking food. I saw big vats of sauerkraut, as well as potato salad and some sort of mushroom concoction. And, yes there was sausage – lots of it. We were looking at each tent, trying to decide which one to patronize, when we heard an accordionist and guitarist playing German standards. Well, that one would be the one for us, so we found a seat. We each got their best sausage with kraut or potato salad on the side (Andy’s not a kraut man) and satisfied our cravings for that great German food.

For the next few hours we wandered the streets, taking pictures and seeing the sights. We came across the church of St. Nicolai, which had in its courtyard a memorial to those who were interred in the prison camps during WWII. The church itself had been bombed out and its walls are in ruins. Andy and I talked about a country that wrestles with many conflicting feelings about that war.

When the sun started going down, we went to a section of town I hesitate to tell you about. It is the St. Pauli Reeperbahn [Learn more]. This section of town, from what Andy researched later, is the most famous red-light district in the world. Because Hamburg is a major port town, sailors have traditionally come here in search of a good time, and they found it here. The Reeperbahn has since been gentrified, but there are still plenty of sex-shops, brothels and peep shows for any sailor.

Andy and I were just there for the neon, I assure you, and we saw plenty of it too. This section of town has also gained traction with the local punks, and we would see packs of them with spiky hair, chains, leather - and dogs, always dogs. In a way, we felt transported back to the ‘80s, but the punk movement remains a popular sub-culture in Germany. It was at least an interesting evening. But, don’t worry, we were quite safe; there were plenty of tourists our age and older folks photographing the décor and even taking tours. That was a bit surreal.

So, we really felt like we got to know Hamburg, and we liked it! I had never even heard of it before, but it is really a rich and wonderful town with lots of layers of culture. Tomorrow we would see even more. Andy has one thing he came here for: a “Miniature Wonderland.” If you’ve followed any of Andy’s writings, you’ll know that one of his major interests is “tiny towns.” We’re hoping this one fits the bill for him. Plus we’ll get to see more of Hamburg!

Day 4 | Day 6

July 26 - London (written by Andy)

Today began with proof that I've got the coolest spouse ever: We took the tube to University College London (South Cloisters building) to see Jeremy Bentham: founder of utilitarianism, theorist of the panopticon, social reformer, and corpse. I read this fellow first in grad school, following up on Michel Foucault's citation of Bentham's panopticon as a "humane penitentiary" whose design for anonymous control would provide a model for much of the discipline of contemporary life. And while yesterday I settled to photograph a statue of Thomas More, today I could see Bentham's actual body - though missing the head.

Bentham, you see, left instruction for his body to be placed in an upright box and dressed in one of his suits. He hoped for his head to be preserved enough to be mounted atop his body, but the postmortem procedure didn't work. A wax replica rests there instead. So, where's the head? In a vault maintained by the College, a safeguard against it being stolen by student pranksters (as they did in 1975). Happily, Bentham's head was not used as a soccer ball, though a myth to that effect endures even today. Gazing upon the box, which Bentham named an Auto-Icon ("A man who is his own image") hardly inspires reverence. The idea strikes me as quite silly, actually. Still, there I was, with Jenny waiting patiently, setting up my tripod to shoot photos. Students walking by have seen it before and hardly paid us any attention.

Later in Hyde Park, we spotted a troop of horses making their way toward Buckingham Palace. Jenny was smitten right away; we ditched our itinerary and joined the crowds. Amazingly we arrived a half-hour before the changing of the guards. However, the fence was already lined with hundreds of tourists hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever was going to happen. Well, it turns out that unless you arrive early enough to peer through the bars of the fence, there really isn't much to see. At least we could enjoy the band music and watch the horses clomp by. Finally when the guards had finished their ceremony a police officer informed us that the "next big thing" would occur in about 30 minutes. We'd had our fill of Buckingham Palace and began head back. Bobbies wagged their fingers and scolded jaywalkers with a "no, no, noooo," but they didn't care when we crossed anyway. What with all the fences to manage the crowds, there were few legal options.

For the next couple hours we strolled along Hyde Park, grabbing lunch at a cafe near the Serpentine, standing inside a cool, dark umbrella tree; sniffing roses on the Princess Diana Walkway; and gazing upon the Art Nouveau monument to Peter Pan. Then, after a brief stop at our hotel, we headed back to the Thames and its pedestrian walkway that leads from the recreated Globe Theatre to Tower Bridge. This was my favorite part of London. I love walking through narrow alleys and imagining myself a time traveler to an older version of the city, with each dripping pipe or pasted advertisement a sign of that alternate universe. Jenny, thank goodness, tolerates my passion for urban wandering. We also spent a bit of time bumming around the Tower of London, checking out a free movie near the information desk. Naturally I spent a few moments gazing upward to the room where Thomas More supposedly spent his final days before facing the executioner’s axe. We couldn’t abide the obnoxious pricing of the Tower, but we’ll surely add it to our plans when we return.

We wrapped our day up with a show at the West End’s Victoria Palace. While I'm not much for musicals, Jenny managed to find a performance that we both could enjoy: Billy Elliot. Weirdly enough, I think I enjoyed the show even more than her. The language and occasionally bleak themes, not to mention the melancholy conclusion (before the big dancing finish, of course) just don't gel with Jenny's sensibilities. As for me, I enjoyed the evocation of time and place found in the performance, especially in the hilariously over the top Act Two opener, "Merry Christmas, Maggie Thatcher." Once the show wrapped up, we strolled back to the tube and returned to our amazingly quiet and comfy room amidst the noise and spectacle of London. Tomorrow we depart for Germany, launching a new leg of our European adventure.

Day 3 | Day 5