March 2016 – Running Free

Thanks Doc, It’s Been Real

I like to think that I’m a polite person. I’m always minding my please and thank you. Pleases and thank yous? Well, whatever it is, I’m doing it.

And that is why one year ago today, immediately after waking up from surgery, I proceeded to shake my surgeon’s hand and thank him for a great surgery. Or so I heard. I wish I had been lucid enough to remember that because, damn, do I sound like a badass!

I owe a lot of my current life to that surgery and I suppose that’s to be expected. After all, hearing lung surgery, the natural reaction is probably more like ‘Um, a lot of your life? How about just life. Period.’ But it never really felt that way, both looking back on it now and at the time. For me, it never really seemed that serious because, for the most part, I felt great. Except for those weeks with pneumonia. Those were terrible. Thank God for orange sherbet ice cream. Oh and whatever I did to my ribs when I fainted. Those were some dark times too. I have never wanted to sleep so badly and been so unable to do so.

Gosh, what a pathetic look

I spent quite a long time in the hospital when I really think about it. Mostly because they couldn’t immediately identify what was wrong with me. That probably should have scared me. Or at least make me worry. But it didn’t…because at the time I felt fine. I will openly admit that I had a case of the invincibles: I felt good; therefore, nothing bad could actually be happening. Plus that’s what parents are for. And to be perfectly honest, I’m not one to worry about things until there is actually something to worry about (school presentations aside, those gave me some serious anxiety). Don’t get me wrong, I can worry like the best of them; however, for my sanity, it’s much better to look on the bright side until there are actually clouds on the horizon.

I did learn some very important lessons though

With that said, after much worrying (on my parents part) and ice cream and cake eating (on my part), the mystery was solved; the culprit, identified. There in the middle lobe of my right lung was a carcinoid, basically a small tumor in the middle of my airway. You know how annoying it is when people just stop in the middle of the sidewalk and they are positioned in such a way that it is literally impossible to go around them? I hate those people. So I guess it only stands to reason that I would have one of them in my body. Jerk.

So the date was set, the room was booked, and the middle lobe was removed. I thanked the doctor, hopped on the transport table, and refused visitors for about as long as I could. So if it seemed like a long time that first day, it’s because I refused to see you people the first time around. No hard feelings, I just wanted to sleep!

I spent the next four days in the hospital, again eating ice cream and cake with just about every meal. Hospital food really isn’t so bad after all. But of course it can’t hold a candle to Town Spa, which Shelagh was gracious enough to bring me. Heaven. It was like nothing had ever happened. I hadn’t fainted. I hadn’t had pneumonia. I hadn’t had a carcinoid in my right middle lobe and they hadn’t removed a part of my lung. (Of course, I still had the epidural in so it actually didn’t feel like they had gone in and removed a part of me). John, for future reference, the way to my heart is through Town Spa pizza but I think you already know that. Bacon. Well done. Yes, I really do mean well done. I was released the next day. Granted the release date was scheduled all along but I’m pretty sure Town Spa has healing powers.

Or maybe it was the chocolate covered strawberries. They make everything better too.

The days and weeks that followed I was anxious all the time. Not anxious in a bad way, just anxious to get back to being me. I was antsy to get up and out of the house, antsy to go running, antsy to go back to work, antsy to go back to living.

And then Spain happened. I had talked about it, even dreamed about it, for years but up until then it had only been a dream. And as much as I wanted it to happen I figured it would always stay a dream because getting a job was impossible. Believe me I tried. However, after three long, winter months (wow, was it really that long?) of literally being unable to do anything, all I wanted was to do. I didn’t care that I didn’t have a job. I didn’t care that I didn’t have a place to live. I just had to go or I knew that I never would.

On the plus side, my cupcake game improved dramatically

Six months later I bought a one way ticket, packed my bags and hit the open skies. I know, six months doesn’t sound all that quick but I had a lot to do in the meantime. I had to officiate a wedding (actually two, we did sneak in that other one before my license expired!), find Nessie in Scotland (or maybe just fairies), and meet my boyfriend…just weeks before I was set to leave. Life is funny that way, isn’t it?

When I changed the calendar to January 2016 I got to thinking about January 2015. How dis appointed I was that there had been no snow for Christmas and no snow in sight when the new year rolled around. Well, they do say that you can never really know what’s coming. Three weeks later, it started snowing. A lot. And it didn’t look back. Three weeks later, with the snow finally knocking on my door, I fainted and dashed through the snow to the hospital. We had record amounts of snow and I didn’t get to make one snow angel, or build one snowman, or throw one snowball. Or shovel, come to think of it (sorry parents!)

But back to 2016. The new year opened, and I looked ahead to a year of unknowns. But one thing I did know was that this year would be different than the last year. This would be a year of action. I would be doing…something. March 23, 2016 would be very different than March 23, 2015. And so it was.

I started the day with nice long run. (I promise I did run in between those pictures, but, y’know, I have to compensate for the hospital pictures!)

Then had a nice hearty breakfast, with ~~way too much~~ just enough coffee and some episodes of New Girl (sorry Lauren, I skipped ahead!)

And later I will close out the day with a train ride to Logroño to start my Easter weekend vacation. Well, hello wine country.

…and action!

Munching in München

It seems that the general consensus on Facebook was that we had too many beers and too many pretzels in Germany, but isn’t that kind of the point? We took our first full day off to go live the life of a fairy tale, but the rest of our time there was dedicated to experiencing Munich, and all the beer that it had to offer! That meant we had to start right away so we went to a cozy little restaurant down the street from our hotel for our first night in town.

Leberkase

Wienerschnitzel

Beers

And us!

For our days in Munich, we woke up early to fit in as much as possible. Munich is a pretty small city and all of the areas of interest are in the same general area so we walked a lot.

On our way into the city center, we passed the Sendlinger Tor (conveniently located steps outside of our hotel!) which is one of only three remaining gothic town gates which were used to defend the old town.

We also happened to pass our restaurant from our first dinner in town. And it looked so cool in the daylight that we had to take pictures. Lots of pictures.

From there we made our way to the Marienplatz, the main square in the city. Both the New City Hall and the Old City Hall are located along the edges of the square. The New City Hall was constructed in a gothic style and actually kind of looks like a church from the outside. The tower includes a Glockenspeil, which reenacts two stories, three times a day (11:00, 12:00 and 17:00). The first is the story of the marriage between Duke Wilhelm V to Renata of Lorraine and a joust between the two cities to celebrate their union. Spoiler alert, Bavaria wins every time. The second is the story of the dancing coopers. I kind of want to leave you with just that. ‘Dancing coopers? Whatever could that mean?‘ The story goes that during the plague the coopers took to the square and danced to convince the townspeople that it was safe to leave their houses. At the very end of the show, an owl hoots three times to signal the end of the show. And while it’s probably not the effect that they are going for, it’s pretty adorable.

After taking in the show we wandered a little bit along the streets in the old town and had some snacks along the way of course. We even made our way down to the shore of the river where I made friends with some ducks.

While we we wandering, we did stumble upon a beautiful memorial that is built right into the streets of the city. The average Munichian? (…Munichite?) well, person from Munich was not an actual supporter of Hitler and the Nazi party and did what they could to resist. One such example is the Golden Line (Goldene Linie in German). The story starts with the Bierhallputsch in 1923 where Hitler first attempted a coup. He was met by a group of police in Odeonsplatz and was defeated, ended in the death of four policemen and sixteen Nazis with many more being arrested. Fast forward a decade to when Hitler had gained control of the city and had placed a plaque there commemorating his comrades who had died there during the putsch. All who walked past the memorial were required to give the Nazi salute or would be arrested by the guard stationed there and in all likelihood sent to Dachau, the nearest concentration camp. In order to avoid that, many citizens would cut down a side street before the memorial and avoid the whole situation. Of course, the guards caught on and another guard was sometimes stationed at the other end of the street in order to catch those who refused to give the salute making travel in the area near impossible for those who resisted the Nazi party. After the war, the memorial shown below was installed to trace their footsteps and to honor their courage.

There’s no good way to transition from that but somehow a church seems like a decent option. Actually two churches. First, we went for a walk inside St Peter’s Church and then climbed to the top of the tower for the view of the city. It was quite the climb since the staircase was really narrow and there usually wasn’t room for two people to pass each other. But the view was worth it.

There is another church on the street to our hotel and it was amazingly beautiful for such a small space.

And still another one. Europe loves their churches!

Now let’s get back to light and airy: the Hofbrauhaus. I mean what is there to say besides beer, pretzels and music?

And because there hasn’t been enough food already, I’ll end with weisswurst, a traditional Bavarian sausage. It literally translates to white sausage, which is actually 100% accurate. It is traditionally eaten for breakfast and the saying goes that the sausages should not be allowed to hear the noontime chime of the bells. And because this is Germany, it is to be eaten with pretzels. So we did.

Walking in a Winter Wunderland

No offense to Amsterdam but the fairy tale didn’t really begin until we arrived in Germany. That’s because we spent our first full day here…

…at Neuschwanstein Castle.

Apparently the design for Cinderella’s castle in Disney World was inspired by this one and can you blame her? When I have a castle, I want it to look just like that too. Some people (probably the Spanish!) claim that this castle was actually the inspiration for Cinderella’s castle. Whatever the case, I was ready to slip on a gläserne Pantoffel and move right in.

But let’s start at the beginning, shall we? Getting to the castle from Munich is not difficult per se but it does involve multiple steps, including taking a train and then transferring to a bus, all in German of course. With that in mind, we booked a day trip which included transportation, a tour of the town, and a tour of the castle.

Knowing that we had a full day ahead of us, we arrived at the train station early. Early enough to have a nice, hearty breakfast to start the day off right.

Well, what else would you expect?

From there we got comfortable on the train, ready to take in the sights and start the adventure. Riding through the countryside actually kind of reminded me of driving through Vermont. There were open fields covered in a blanket of snow, tiny cabins with swirls of smoke streaming out of the chimneys, and big, tall pine trees struggling to hold the freshly fallen snow. Apparently it snowed the day before we got there. Munich must have heard that I was coming and wanted to make the right impression. Well, it worked.

See? Just like Vermont…

…well, except for the giant castle.

Speaking of the castle, now seems as good a time as any for the history lesson. The castle was commissioned by King Ludwig II to be his personal retreat from the world and is largely influenced by his admiration for close friend, Richard Wagner. The majority of the rooms play homage to the works of Wagner through the artwork on the walls. Ludwig II was sometimes referred to as the Fairy Tale King and the design within the castle certainly reflects his eccentric sense of style. The palace was designed to be a personal refuge that would never be open to the public, or to visitors of any kind, really; however, just a couple of weeks after the King’s mysterious death (he was found dead of supposed suicide in the nearby lake along with one of his psychiatrists), the castle was opened to the public, for a fee of course. Pictures of the interior are not allowed though, so I suppose they kept some of his wishes in mind.

We arrived in the small town of Hohenschwangau and had time to grab a bite to eat and take a walk around the town, with a quick tour before making the climb up to the castle.

Isn’t it a cute, little village? The yellow building on the hilltop is actually another castle: the Hohenschwangau Castle, where King Lugwig II spent most of his childhood. It now lies in the shadow of Neuschwanstein Castle and is largely forgotten. Can you imagine? A tiny town with a superfluous castle? From here, we started the long climb to Neuschwanstein.

As mentioned before, pictures of the inside are not permitted so you’ll notice that there are only pictures of the exterior. Too many? Nein! No such thing! On the subject of pictures, all shots are courtesy of my handsome and talented companion, John. I meant to say that in the previous post, but that’s what happens when coffee is involved. My brain works faster than my fingers. Or maybe it’s the other way around?

All in all, it was a fairy tale of a day. John got to see his castle (and our future home, I’m counting on you!) and I got my winter wonderland…although maybe a little too much of it. My poor booties struggled to survive the encounter! And somehow I don’t they appreciated the promise of beers and pretzels the next day as much as I did.

Although that’s really a post for another day because, well, there were a lot of beers and pretzels…

Adventures in Amsterdam

I started writing this post at the coffee shop the other day so this post is coming to you on the wings of the caffeine. I feel it’s important to warn you of that up front!

I’ve been out of commission for a couple of weeks now and as I sit here trying to recount those long weeks, I discovered that writing is a lot like running. They say it only takes two weeks to lose your fitness and boy was that true yesterday when I ~~ran~~ crawled through a six mile run. Apparently it must only take two weeks to lose your writing mojo too because I can’t seem to find it.

Hence the coffee shop. A change of scenery does the mind good. George Harrison doesn’t hurt either.

Why me of course!

These past couple of weeks were a bit of a whirlwind, four cities, three countries, planes, trains, automobiles. I do have faith in you, my loyal readers, but I can pretty much guarantee that you won’t sit there and read a five thousand word post about it. Okay mom, you probably would. But it sounds a little too much like schoolwork (“class, I want you to write a theme”) even if it is littered with pictures. So the weeks will be split up in separate posts, probably according to city. Chronological probably makes the most sense but I think I want to keep Madrid for last. So that brings us to….

Amsterdam. The land of sex, drugs and stroopwafels.

We landed and made our way to the Swissôtel, where we were treated to the penthouse! Okay not really, but it was the top floor with a pretty incredible vaulted ceiling and exposed beams. Plus a beautiful view of Dam Square. The fact that we didn’t get any pictures of it actually makes me a little sad. Anyway we decided to take a walk around to get the lay of the land.

Side note: Did you know that the Dutch love their cheese? I didn’t, but I sure as heck do now. I’m pretty sure we made a meal out of cheese samples. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. We even ran away together to run our own cheese farm…

…but the cow only spoke Dutch so logistically that was just a nightmare.

Anyway with ~~local food~~ cheese in our bellies, we had to sample some of the local beverages as well. For strictly cultural experiences of course. So we started with a couple of beers…

That newspaper would later catch fire due to a blissfully unaware barstool companion. John blew it out and the man still had no idea. True story. — That newspaper would later catch on fire due to a blissfully unaware barstool companion. John blew it out and the man still had no idea. True story.

And then we moved on to jenever, the national liquor of the Netherlands. It is juniper-flavored and is actually quite good on its own. It is served in a tulip-shaped glass (of course) which is filled to the brim and placed on the bar. The drinker then bends over to sip a little bit off of the top before picking it up.

Fun fact: we had the hardest time getting into this place. By which I mean, we literally had the hardest time of getting in the door. I swear there were people inside but the door didn’t open. Anyway, we eventually made it in and took turns snapping pictures in the nook while sipping away on our drinks.

It kind of looks like the heavens are coming through the window. Drink the jenever, drink it!

The next day started with a beautiful walk around the city…

Construction, construction, what else is new…

…in the snow.

In actuality, it only snowed for a little bit and then it stopped. In fact a lot of the pictures above were taken after the snow. But did it really have to snow first thing in the morning? My poor toes were all wet!

All was well when we were rewarded with Dutch pancakes in the Upstairs Pancake House. It’s this tiny little place with 4 tables and about 800 teapots. That’s only slightly exaggerated. There was one with red polka dots which I picked out as my favorite. The pancakes were delicious. We split a ham and cheese one and a regular old “plain” one (which is anything but plain, just check out that dollop of buttery creamy goodness).

From there we went to this tiny little town of Muiden…to see Muiderslot. It was mostly geared toward children with all sorts of interactive activities which led to many a rowdy child. But we were able to try on suits of armor and dress in old times garb. We even got up close and personal with an owl!

He certainly did NOT want to have his picture taken

Yup, that armor is heavy. Do some squats with this and I would have buns of steel!

The fairy tale came to end when we remembered that we are not actually royalty. So…how do we get out of here? The wifi wasn’t working at the castle and nowhere in the town seemed to offer free wifi (or lights, oddly enough). We finally wandered into a very dark Italian restaurant so that they could call us a cab and we learned that the whole city was out of power. I’m still not really sure if that’s a regular occurrence or not. There were varying broken-English accounts of the incident, some of which made it sound like it was normal not to have power before five. But I guess we will never know for sure.

Regardless, we escaped to a well-powered civilization and had, what else, beers. But these weren’t any beers. They were beers in a windmill. Okay, technically beers beside a windmill, but I don’t think that makes it any less impressive. The atmosphere was homey so we stayed to sample quite a few. All in the interests of learning, don’t forget. Plus another jenever or two…this time with flavor. Future reference: the chocolate cherry tastes like cough syrup. Super disappointing.

The next day we were off to Munich. And because it was so much cheaper, we went through Eindhoven. So we walked around Amsterdam for one final farewell, which included a yummy, yummy, yummy cookie. This bakery makes only one cookie and, let me tell you, they make it well.

Those look beautiful even inside the package

Then we went to Eindhoven. What is there to do in Eindhoven? Well shopping, for one. And eating at the automat. Actually eating at the automat is popular all over Amsterdam. We had an entire meal of sausages, croquettes, hamburgers for less than five euros. That is the reason for my excitement. For the record, there was no alcohol involved in the making of that photo.