XI: The Hills are Alive...

...with the sounds of tourists.

With apologies to Rodgers & Hammerstein, and of course, Julie Andrews:

Dough, for beer, delicious beer!
Ray, the guy who drove the bus;
Meat, something I ate for lunch;
Fall, a season of the year.
So? What punks say in high school;
La, a tele-tubby name
T, says 'I pity the fool!'
and that brings us back to
Dough, dough, dough, dough, dough!


(that was a whole lot funnier when I hadn't slept in forty hours, hehe.)

Thanks for coming back, I know I haven't blogged much this month and the reason is simple: I didn't go anywhere until yesterday. I had a trip to Belgium planned but that night I had such a migraine that I decided that sleep was the better idea. (Oh man, was it better.)

If I haven't given you the rundown on how these trips work, let me take a second and describe the USO Bus Tour Process.

  1. Payment is made in advance and you get a 7 euro discount if you pay 5 or more days early
  2. Departure, at least for the trips I've taken, is between midnite and 2 am on Saturday morning.
  3. Bus: uncomfortably seats, but you generally get two side-by-side per person so even though you can't stretch out, it's a lot better than it could be.
  4. Drive to the destination and we usually stop a couple times, once for some breakfast. If you've ever taken a long road trip in the U.S., then you know that roadside dining is not the best food in the world; same is true in Germany.
  5. Arriving at the destination means a tour. They are about an hour, maybe 90 minutes, often informative though.
  6. After the tour, it's free time until the bus leaves. Every time I've gone the USO escort provided a map showing the general area, handed out an emergency contact number, and shown you where the bus pick-up location is. Then you're off on your own. This is generally the point where I go find some lunch!
  7. Lunch is on you, some groups bring food (why???), but most go in search of something local. I'm a big fan of doners, which is the German equivalent of a burger joint. It's like gyro meat, but not necessarily lamb. Although I disagree with packing a lunch, I heartily endorse bringing your own beverages. (Unless you're a beer/wine drinker, that is.) A glass of soda at a restaurant was nearly 5 bucks yesterday. And, if you order water, it's mineral water and usually carbonated. Just letting you know, some people like it that way.
  8. Free time is just that. You get to explore the local area and see what you want. Vienna, in particular, is full of museums, art galleries, shops, even a casino. Like many metropolitan areas, there's plenty to do. There's also plenty to avoid, but which is which is a matter of personal taste so I leave that to you to determine. I'm yet to have a problem using English, but since most of the places I go to cater to tourism, that's probably more of a function of the economy than the universality of the language.
  9. Find the bus, come back. The returns range from midnite to 3am. So, if you've done the math, that's basically 24 hours for one trip. And, unless you're one of those rare few who can do it, sleeping on the bus is a terribly ineffective way to get rest. Couple that with having to work on Friday and taking more than half of Sunday to recover, and you can see why these trips are not exactly something I want to do every Saturday.

Here's some pics. I hope you like them.
I don't know if I'll be making any more of these excursions before I leave. I return to the States in less than three weeks, so there's only a couple opportunities left and I don't relish another long bus trip especially since I'm still recovering from the last one. However, the one trip that interests me is to Geneva; I'm going to have to really think about that one!

Tchuss!
David

X: Pass the Duchy

The land-locked country of The Grand Duchy of Luxembourg (hereafter notated as Lux because that's a tough word to have to keep typing) is located west of Germany, east of France and south of Belgium. It is slightly less than a thousand square miles which means it is roughly two-thirds the size of Rhode Island, which makes it very small indeed. Because of its diminuative nature and centralized location, Lux has been conquered, divided, re-conquered and re-divided for nearly two thousand years by many of the larger more bullying countries that surround it. Throughout it all, the good people of Lux have survived (and thrived) by being excellent negotiators, businessmen and hosts. It was to this Lilliputian land that I was destined on a bleak rainy Saturday morning.

After a restless two hours of sleep, I arose at 1:45am and journeyed to my designated bus departure point. To my dismay, the weather was most uncooperative and the chill on this August morning was not at all pleasant. Slightly shivering, sleepily awaiting the motor coach, my thoughts turned to the recent news story of a 22 year old Canadian bus passenger who was rudely awakened by his seat mate at the point of a knife being repeatedly thrust into his torso and then beheaded. This tale of woe had recently hit the local papers, and I am certain I was not the only would-be bus tourist eyeing his fellow passengers for the outline of a machete unsuccessfully hidden beneath a T-shirt. The bus arrived promptly at 3am and I, along with my fellows, boarded, relishing the warm dry interior. Finding a seat, I stowed my gear and prepared for the long ride ahead.

After a couple of stops for food, drink and rest-room use, we arrived at an American military cemetery located in the heart of Lux. After WWII, the Grand Duchy honored the American fallen by providing a beautiful resting place for our brave sons, and one daughter. The most famous resident of this hallowed place is General George S. Patton. Fields of crosses and Stars of David line up at attention facing a stunning memorial with Patton at the head, as if he's reviewing the troops into eternity. It is a fitting remembrance of a horrific time.

We left the cemetery around 9am and travelled to the City of Luxembourg, which is, not surprisingly, the capital of Lux. Our USO escort doubled as tour guide for this trip and he took us around the city center showing us many of the old buildings as well as the entrance to the catacombs that lie beneath. We were fortunate to find that there was an outdoor market, but I found nothing of interest to buy. Rather than spend the entire day in the middle of downtown Lux, we again headed to the bus and left for a tour of a castle located a bit north.

The Castle of Vianden was built hundreds of years before Columbus landed in the New World. There are a few restaurants and tourist-y spots around the castle, but what I found most interesting was the village at the foot of the hill on which the castle sits. This is a living breathing town. Residents must contend with excessive traffic, people blocking drive ways, leaving trash, and making a general nuisance of themselves. I'm sure many of them cater to the tourist trade, but that seems like an enormous sacrifice to me. I believe if one were to look at a similar historical land mark located in the States, you would find that the castle as well as the lands surrounding it would be designated a federal park or preservation area. Of course, I haven't visited many castles in the States, so this is just conjecture on my part.
There was also a medieval faire going on at the castle that weekend and there were many people dressed in pseudo-authentic costumes trying to coerce visitors into buying hand-made crap. Yes, crap, just exactly the kind of junk you find at similar fests throughout the world.

As usual, you can find pics here!
Please enjoy and feel free to comment as you desire.
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Next week's trip is still up in the air. The USO is offering a bus tour to Poland, but I have been warned by several co-workers to avoid that particular trip as it is predominantly a 'shopping tour' and has nothing to do with the history or culture of Poland.

Until next time, Ciao!

IX: Taking a Walk on the Wild SIde

I don't recall visiting a zoo as a kid. Sure, I went to Busch Gardens Tampa, which is part zoo and part theme park. This was in the days before Disney opened up their bigger, better, more expensive version, Animal Kingdom. And, of course, I watched Mutual of Omaha's Wild Kingdom every Sunday night with Marlin Perkins and his erstwhile assistant, Jim. I fondly recall Marlin narrating the day's adventures and Jim nearly getting gored, eaten, trampled, or molested by the local wildlife. Only by the grace of God, fancy foot-work and judicious editing did Jim avoid those life theatening (and embarassing) engagements.

Last weekend, I bundled myself onto the U-bahn once again, and set out to visit the Wilhelma Zoo, conveniently located here in Stuttgart. The closer I got to the zoo entrance, the larger the percentage of children onboard the train. Happily, I realized I could follow my fellow animal lovers to the entrance of said zoo. The price was quite reasonable: 11.40 EUROS, that's less than $20, for those who are interested.

My first impression of the place was a vague recollection of The Wizard of Oz. Allow me to explain. When Dorothy is caught in the twister and plunked down in Munchkin Land crushing the first Wicked Witch, she opens the door to a world in technicolor. No longer is she relegated to a Sepia-tone environment. I was similarly stunned. Flowers stretched out in multiple hues, reds, oranges, blues, yellows, all on a field of green green grass. It was somewhat breath-taking. I whipped out my trusty Fuji digital camera and started snapping pics.

YOU CAN VIEW THEM HERE!

I saw all kinds of birds, fish, African Safari-type critters and their famous new resident, Wilbur the baby Polar Bear. Wilbur was born in December 2007, so he's not even a year old. He frolics to the delight of young and old alike in a huge outdoor swimming pool. On this particular day, he was playing with an older Polar Bear. I don't know if it was Mom, Dad, an uncle, perhaps an acquaintance of his parents, who can say? What does matter is, they were swimming and splashing and having a grand time, and all I could think about was some chuckle-head scaling the glass wall and getting eaten right there in front of all those kids. If you've never seen an actual polar bear, friend, you don't stand a chance against one. Even Wilbur could rip out your liver and feast on it while your steaming remains cooled in the Arctic perma-frost. Cute as they are, these are dangerous animals. Fortunately, no one was foolish enough to jump in, so I have no action shots for you today. ;-)

~dave~

VIII: My Day in Court

Way way way back when, nigh onto thirty years or so, I took up racquet. I took up ball. I moseyed into a racquetball court and found that it was GOOD! I wasn't, but IT was.

In due course, I learned angles, ricochets, spin. I learned the art of the kill shot, the sublime perfection of a cross court winner, the awe inspiring roll-out and the all-important double reverse pinch. This is not to say that I can perform these shots at will, but I have, on occasion, been successful in performing one from time to time.

When I was living in the great state of Florida, I had a reliable cadre of fellow enthusiasts and we would meet on a somewhat weekly basis to prove our mettle against each other, vying for alpha dominance in the landscape that is floor, ceiling and four unforgiving walls. I do not believe I am at all incorrect when I state that my win record was squarely above 500, and my friends would agree that I was always available for a game or two...or five.

Leap forward to the Fall of 2006...

I move to the D.C. area for a job, and since I know no one in the area, I immediately start looking for a public racquetball court because I know that my fellow aficianados will congregate there, and I can get both my game 'fix' and assert my dominance in a whole new state. I do not find one. Dang. Realizing that Washington D.C. is the shrine of capitalism, nay the Mecca of capitalism, I scour the nearby gyms in hopes of finding one that offers racquetball as part of the amenities. Again, I fail. My dear friends and readers, in the land of the free and the brave, in the city where the legislature of our country is formed, where the inalienable right to 'pursue happiness' is not only encouraged, but mandated by LAW! I cannot find a freaking court! Despair sets in. Waistline expands. Skills diminish. (sigh)

Leap forward 22 months...

I'm sent to Germany to work for three months. Again, I don't know anyone, but this time I don't speak the language, understand the culture, and certainly do not know my way around the area. However, as an American working on a military establishment, I am granted some perks, one of which is free use of the gym. Since the pastry and bread here are fantastic(!), I decide it might be a good idea to make use of this perk. Lo and behold, a court. No, two courts. With wooden floors. Glass rear walls. Free for my use! GOD BLESS AMERICA and ITS FIGHTING MEN AND WOMEN! Tears spring unbidden to my eyes. Tears of joy. Tears of rapture. Tears of disappointment, because all my gear is rotting in a closet in Virginia.
Arghh!
I am not deterred.
I buy new gear: a racquet, a glove, eye protection, balls.
I play; it is glorious...almost.
I have no opponent to awe.
No one gasps at my command of the playing field.
There is no dominance.
My ebullience is short lived.
Until...
yesterday I saw another lone racqueteer. "Care for a game?" I asked, hoping like a sophomore chess clubber asking the cheerleader captain to the prom. The game was ON! Now the glory. Now the kill-shot. Now the sweat, the strain, the reach, pouncing, swinging, running. Now the ecstasy that can only be felt by Olympians who win the gold. Ahhhhhh....!

I got my ass kicked, but damn, I loved it.
~db~

VII: Lions and Tiger and

BEARS!!
Bears Invade Stuttgart!
Heroic American Visitor Captures Them!


Today I took the U-bahn (that's a train) to Stuttgart. The Buddy Bears are visiting the area, and I went down to take a look.

CLICK HERE FOR ALBUM

Some artists stylized the bear in native garb, some added accessories, many just used the bear motif as a canvas and added all kinds of country specific items.

There were over a hundred bears, and I took a picture of each one. I didn't realize how long it was going to take to crop and rename them all, whew! It's a good thing I took pics of the footplates on each statue so I'd have a record of what country went with each bear.

There weren't many people there when I started this morning, but as the day went on, more and more viewers showed up to bask in the awesomeness of ursine statuary.

There were lots of different styles, and many really neat looking ones. Of course I'm partial to the U.S. bear, but the Chinese bear looks kinda-sorta like a deranged Winnie the Pooh, which really tickled me; the Irish bear was designed as a leprechaun; the Yemen bear actually looked more pig-like, but I still thought it was pretty cool. The Iraq bear had some kids on a flying carpet; it was very Aladdin-like. If you look closely, and I don't know if it's noticeable in my amateur photography skills, you can see that the four children on the carpet are black, white, red and yellow. I was pretty happy to see that, especially on a bear from Iraq...makes you think, no?

However, the greatest bear of all, in my humble opinion, belongs to the fine specimen from Moldova. I thought it was both original and hilarious.

Since I was in the area, I took a few shots of the local park that the bears were inhabiting. (I think the fountain needs Monica, Rachel, Phoebe, Joey and Chandler in it though. Yes, I realize Ross isn't in that list; I don't like him.)
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Enjoy!

VI: The Benefits of Simple Exercise

Dear friends, we all know how hard it is to begin an exercise program. We are constantly bombarded with unrealistic images from Hollywood, Bollywood, the world of advertisements, television, newspapers...you name it, there's someone thinner than YOU selling something you don't want with the promise that you can also achieve their success if you just drop a couple pounds. Keeping that in mind, today I decided (after three weeks of gorging myself) that it would be an excellent idea for me to 'do' something other than sit in front of a computer screen.


So, I went for a little walk, not far, not fast, just a little jaunt around the hotel. The sky was threatening rain, but it held off, and although it was a tad humid, the overall temperature was probably no higher than 72. I saw a couple of bunnies frolicing in the grass. I saw children biking. I tried (in vain) to read the signs on the establishments in the area (although, truth be told, I believe I was successful in deciphering a few of them). I found a fifty Euro note on the sidewalk. I then...what? Wait a sec? A fifty Euro note? Equivalent to eighty bucks American? Is that right? Yes, that's exactly right. While walking down Plieninger Strasse back to the hotel, I saw some paper on the ground with the number '50' on it. Honestly, I don't know the descriptions of the Euro very well, so I half expected it to be a fake with some kind of ad for a local bar or club. When I got back to the hotel, I asked the desk clerks (Fabianna and the exceedingly lovely Sarah) if it was real. They confirmed its authenticity and I was instantly eight bucks richer.



So, my dear readers and friends, exercise and you will reap the benefits. And sometimes, those benefits are financial.

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Sorry no pics of the Netherlands this week due to inclement weather to the North; I'll try again next week though.

V: Nuremburg

I don't know if this is going to work, but here's an album of pictures I took while in Nuremburg last week.

Nuremburg

I hope everyone can open the file and take a look.

I was going to go to the Netherlands this weekend, but the weather is supposed to be rather miserable so I'm not going to invest 70 Euro on a trip that gets washed out.

Maybe next weekend will be a little less moist and I can get to a new location. If this post works as I hope, then expect more pics.

Thanks for looking!

IV: History^2

This is going to be a historical weekend for me. And not historical in that 'I'll remember it for all time', but historical in that 'there will be a lot of opportunities for me to reflect on history.'

Friday is Independence Day. Since I'm working in Germany, it's just another day for the natives but, there's going to be a little shin-dig down at Patch Barracks for the Americans stationed there. Sure, there's going to be a whole swarm of kids running around and lots of military ceremony, but there'll be some grilling going on, too, and it's been a long time since I had burgers and dogs off a grill. Hopefully there'll be some fireworks going off as well; yeah, pyrotechnics are awesome!

On Saturday, I'm going on a day-trip to Nuremburg. I suspect that there will be some focus on the Nazi trials that were held there, but I'm hoping that's just a part of the trip. From what I've read, the people of Nuremburg are trying to move past that ugly time in history.

This will be the first 'real' tourist-y thing I do, so I'm hoping it's both fun and informative. My camera hasn't even made it out of its case yet, so I better be sure to charge up the batteries before I go! If all goes well, I will be posting actual pics next time around.

III: "Tell him what he's won, Rod." "It's a new TOY!"

I have taken the wireless plunge and purchased a laptop. Mostly because I sit in my hotel room on work nights and get bored senseless. All the T.V. programs are in German and, frankly, that shit is hard to understand. Sure, the late nite stuff is all ads for the German version of '900-' numbers and there are lots of tits, but still(!) between the hours of six and midnight it's just painful.

Now I can come home after a hard day of modeling and, instead of watching television I don't understand, I can surf the web, and blog, and catch up on Facebook, and play games, etc etc etc. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know it's a pricey toy, but what else am I going to spend my hard-earned money on? Also, I can now take pics with my handy dandy digital camera and post them, at least I assume I can post on blogger.

The only thing I lack is access to Lord of the Rings Online (a MMORPG). I left the software in Virginia, shazzbat! Not that I can't break down and buy another copy here.

II: The Fatherland Beckons

Oh my, what a long flight!

I started my Friday (that would be Friday, June 20th) slightly behind schedule. I had nothing packed. I didn't get to the ATM. My apartment was woefully unclean. But, I didn't really care. Packing would take an hour...there were ATMs in Europe...and I wasn't going to be there, so who cared if there was some grime and filth left behind?

First order of business: set up a ride. So, I let my fingers do the walking and picked up my handy-dandy Falls Church Yellow Pages. Guess what? 'Cabs' aren't listed. Nor are 'Automobile Rentals', 'Transportation Services', or anything else that that I could think of that would get me to the airport. Ugh! Defeated so soon! Oh, wait, try 'TAXICABS', ah yes, there we go...

By noon, I had succeeded in putting the majority of my life into two bags; one to check and one to carry and my immigrant waited at the lobby. The journey to Dulles was uneventful except the dam thing cost nearly $60! Holy Toledo, who knew? Fortunately, there's both a Fuddrucker's and a Pot Belly Sandwiches in the airport, so my lunch was delicious. Farewell, American food! I'll miss you!

Check in was the usual airport hassle. I managed to time my arrival just in time to get behind a pack of wild hyenas, or were they just adolescents in a tour group? The ticket agents were very nice, and moved me (without my asking) to an exit row so I would have more leg room. Security was long but very tolerable. The only problem was my toiletries. Since I was going on a very long trip (three months!), I did not pack travel sized items, so my tooth paste was confiscated. A harbinger of things to come? No, just an annoyance.

The flight itself was quite nice. We had some turbulence midway across the Atlantic, but it was a minor shake-up, if you'll pardon the pun. The entire crew was French, apparently Delta sub-contracts flights to Paris via Air France so that was understandable.

The layover at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris was about four hours. Then it was off to Stuttgart. I have a rental car that's about as big as two shopping carts, a hotel room with a teensy weensy kitchen-ette (that is it has a mini-fridge and a microwave) and, best of all a breakfast buffet. At least, I assume that's included in the bill. I'm going to have a very unhappy realization if it isn't.

I've started my new job, but mostly it's all paperwork at the moment. There's a whole load of processing that happens for a new hire and even more when it's overseas, but I'm getting through it.

Now, if I can just get caught up on my sleep and defeat the evil jet-lag.