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.

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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…

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…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…

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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.

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

Construction, construction, what else is new…

…in the snow.

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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!

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.

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.

From there we took a walk around, saw the shops and the church, and had some coffee. Then it was off to the airport, bound for Munich!

Me and my coffee and a comfy chair
On to Munich!

Join me next time for castles in wonderland! Okay, Munich. Same thing.

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A Tale of Two Valentines

It’s Thursday! But there’s no looking back today, only  forward. Okay, I’ll look back a little bit but only to this past weekend. Because you see, I had two Valentine’s this year: Ireland and John. 

I’ve never had a valentine…until this year. And then I moved 3,000 miles away. Oops! With that being said, if I couldn’t be with my boyfriend on Valentine’s Day; I was going to do the next best thing. Wrap myself up in Ireland. I’ll be honest, I love Ireland. There is just something so warm about it. It hugs you. The people, the countryside, the Guinness!

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So Friday I packed my bags, hopped a plane to the greatest place on Earth, and ventured out into the rain. I wanted something comfortable but whenever I travel I also want to do new things and see different places so I started my trip in Limerick. It was late by the time I got there and the rain was falling so I did what you’re supposed to do and headed to the pub.

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The next morning I headed to the Milk Market to start my day off right. One latte and a maple bacon crepe later and I had the energy to wander the quiet and wet streets of Limerick. I even saw King John’s Castle. Up close you could see the visitor center that was built around the building full of modern amenities desperately calling people in to visit. “We have Wifi!” “Look at this impressive glasswork!” Of course there was a bar with the name Katy (close enough for me) right outside, so it gets points for that. But as with most things, the best views came from afar. This time on the other side of a river.

And wouldn’t you know, there happened to be a coffee shop on the other side of the river so I had to go in and check it out. I needed the jolt to keep me awake as I headed to Galway.

I watched Ireland play France in the rugby match. It appears that some Frenchman made the journey. Or people who really like berets

Sunday morning, Valentine’s Day. First things first, I was on the hunt for coffee. Then it was time. See I knew I wouldn’t be spending Valentine’s Day with John so I decided to treat myself to a spa outing where I had my first massage, followed by a hot date with some cookies and a mimosa. Treat yo’ self. The rest of the day was spent walking along the bay, watching the sun (yes, sun!) bounce off of the water. Oh and drinking more coffee. Hence the crazy eyes…

Rise and shine valentine!
Welcome to the jungle, welcome to the jungle…
No but seriously, this place was called The Jungle
And they had great coffeeee
The depth of the clouds just makes the sky look so big. Or is that just me?
This is what happens when you have two cups of coffee too close together

The next day I said farewell to Galway and headed to Dublin to be ready for an early flight the next morning. Since it had been a while I went to the Guinness Storehouse, learned for the millionth time how to make beer (and yet I still don’t think I could tell you how it’s done), relive some of the past advertising campaigns, and of course enjoy the perfect pint overlooking the city.

First things first, how beautiful is this sunrise outside of my window. Good morning indeed.
The Spanish Arch
Hmm does this look familiar?
Made it out to your house, mom!
And this would be your view. Not too shabby
I went for a hot chocolate and got to pick any chocolate for free.
I went with the hazelnut truffle. Gosh I miss my hazelnut lattes!
Made it to Guinness
The water of life! Okay, Guinness water but that is basically the same thing
The guy in the background definitely looks like he hates me. Don’t worry, there are plenty of pints to go around!

I could go on and on about my love for Ireland and I kind of already have. Although most of this is pictures. But that’s not really the main focus of this post. Remember I said earlier that I never had a valentine until this year? Yeah, let’s get back to that. I know, you thought you were done with the whole valentine thing but this is the first time I’ve ever had one so you’re going to hear about it and you’re going to like it. Or you’re going to stop reading now. And if you do stop reading, I get it. No hard feelings.

We met watching the Patriots which means that he is now required to root for the Patriots at all times. I included the caveat that he can root for the Eagles if they ever play each other because, y’know, hometown ties are tight. And wouldn’t you know, this year they actually did meet and the Patriots lost. In a miserable, head-shaking, “what-the-heck-are-you-doing?!” kind of way. And for a brief moment I can actually say that I was happy to be 3,000 miles away. In a bubble where the Patriots didn’t exist and they weren’t majorly blowing it to the lowly Eagles (that may seem like a low blow, but they did beat us. And I will have to live with that for the rest of my life so I’ll take my shots when I can get them). But I digress. Back to the situation at hand: my phone was blowing up with video after video of the Patriots being utter idiots. And of course I had to pretend that I watched them (just kidding, I watched every single one and cried a little bit inside). And like I said, for those brief, horrible moments I was happy to be far, far away. But only for those brief moments…

Once upon a time, it was the first football game of the year. The Patriots were playing the Steelers and I was at the bar admittedly nursing a beer. And that’s when John came over. We chatted for a bit but I was so shy and quiet that he walked away thinking I wasn’t interested. I also vaguely remember asking him in a slightly accusatory manner if he was a Steelers and (gasp!) Eagles fan. So that could have done it. See, deep down I knew that just a couple of months later he would be rubbing my face in an Eagles victory.

Although I have to hand it to Philly. They may be on to something with the cheesesteak

But a friend of a friend (of a friend? Maybe, I still don’t know ) came over and asked if I wanted to join their group. Since I had been secretly peeking over there every couple of minutes, I joined the group and got a date for the very next day. See kids, it pays to have no life. Fast forward to three weeks later, after one cancelled date (my bad) and two vacations and we finally had date number two. And then three. And then four. Because once we started, there was no looking back.

And then I moved away. We could have looked at the logistics, the numbers, the facts: 3,000 miles, 6 hour time difference and all of that after only a couple of months of dating. And that could have been it. But luckily that’s not where this story ends. Because what kind of Valentine’s Day story would that be? For the record, we also closed out the season by watching the Super Bowl “together”. Well, the majority of the Super Bowl. I maybe (okay, definitely) fell asleep during the fourth quarter. It’s not my fault that it doesn’t start here until 12:30 in the morning. But how’s that for coming full circle?

It’s now been about three months since I moved away and in just a couple of hours he will be boarding a plane to come visit me. So you see, this year Valentine’s Day isn’t just a day for me, it’s a whole two weeks! So I just want to warn you all now that when you start to miss my posts for the next two weeks (because I know you will), I haven’t been kidnapped and I haven’t gone missing. (This message is especially important for you, mom.)

That being said, I can say with full certainty that I will be in a whole other world.

He loves Town Spa. Done. Keeper.
He loves Town Spa. Done. Keeper.

TBT: Ten Thousand Santas Can’t Be Wrong

I’m a big deal. No seriously, I hold a world record. Okay, technically I share it with about 10,000 other people, one of which is Lauren (hey-oh, shout out to us!) But I am part of a world record and I will be for at least another ten months.

It all started with a dream…and a sign in the metro. La Carrera de Papa Noel. Running? Santa Claus? Well, that’s all I needed to hear. So here’s the deal, the whole purpose of the race is to have the most people running while dressed like Papa Noel (or an elf if you’re a kid). And, of course, to have fun while doing it. So you sign up by paying an incredibly small fee and they give you a Santa suit to wear on the day of the race, complete with hat and beard.

You also receive a swag bag full of magazines, food and the glorious, felt Santa suit. I think there might have been protein powder too. Whatever, I was too focused on the Santa gear.

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Race day rolled around and Lauren and I joined the pack of Santas. And, gosh, did we look good doing it….

By the end of the race we were exhausted because it’s hard work to run three miles and look good.

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But it was all worth it because we were rewarded with post-race goodies, including this little guy.

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He’s just a tiny Coca-Cola reindeer; however, when the time comes, I kind of want to pack him in my suitcase and bring him home with me. He can be a reminder of back when I used to break world records for fun.

Blinding confidence, now brought to you by Coca-Cola.

Triple Header: Movie, Music and Football

They say when it rains, it pours. Well it poured this weekend for me. Friday night, check. Saturday night, check. Sunday night, check.

Friday night: movie!

I’ve never really been the going-to-the-movies type although I’m not sure why. I usually have to take a minute (an embarrassingly long minute) to think about the last time I went to the movies. For the longest time, Toy Story 3 was the last movie I had seen in the theaters. That came out in 2010. Now that I think about it I also went to see About Time (based solely on the fact that one of the characters had an Irish accent, true story). And that was in 2013. So I had been averaging one about every three years. I foresee that number getting drastically lower once I’m back stateside. Cough John cough. And dear readers, you’ll be relieved to know that I did see the new Star Wars movie in December. And yet, here it is only two months later that I found myself at another movie: The Big Short (La gran apuesta). Even though we are in Spain, we saw it in English because we figured that the vocabulary for the movie would be a little too specific to be part of our regular vocabulary. Looking back that was a great choice. I mean we probably could have understood it alright but something would have been different. And that something is swearing. Don’t get me wrong, Spaniards are master swearers; they drop them into conversations just like any ol’ preposition. That’s just how they connect thoughts. But there’s something about the way Americans swear, especially in this film, that just can’t be replicated. It’s all about intonation, facial expression and strategic silences. I can’t believe that last sentence was all about swearing, but anyway, English swearing was in full effect and it was glorious. Also the movie was pretty incredible so there’s that.

Saturday night: music!

I may not be a movie person but I dig live music. So when Lauren suggested going to see some jazz/blues, I was in! We went to La Coquette, a cute, little cave of a bar where we were able to snag front row seats. Like too-close-to-the-stage front row seats.

Somehow I felt like the leather jacket gives me a little more street cred for a blues bar
Somehow I felt like the leather jacket gives me a little more street cred for a blues bar

So close we could have been part of the band, The Downtown Alligators. We could have been alligators! The lead singer had that great raspy, bluesy voice and then in between songs he would rattle off some Spanish banter. It was actually very weird to hear him switch between the two.

Sunday night: Football!

You can take the girl out of America but you can’t take America out of the girl. I had to watch the Super Bowl…it was my patriotic duty. Plus it was date night. So I was ready: Skype on my iPad which John pointed towards the tv, FaceTime on my iPhone to chat with John (and judge commercials together…I was mostly unimpressed). The only problem: the game started at 12:30 in the morning so I definitely fell asleep somewhere in the fourth quarter. I woke up in time to see Denver win but I’m pretty sure I missed Helen Mirren scold drunk drivers. And the Clydesdales, were there Clydesdales this year?!

I was too busy dreaming..

Running Mad…rid

All of my posts so far have shown me outside of Madrid. For some reason I’ve been putting off writing about actual Madrid. I don’t know why but it’s hard to write about; how do I start? Destinations are easy. I went here; I did this; look, pictures! Everything fits so nicely in one post. I’ve been in Madrid for almost three months now; that’s a lot of words and pictures to fit into one post. So what’s the best way to break things up? Where do I begin? Well, let’s start with running. That is the general theme going on here so I’ll start with me running Madrid. Not running Madrid (although I did see the king’s hand once!) but literally running the mean, hilly streets (and parks!) of Madrid.

When I first arrived to town, we lived in Lavapiés so I pretty much had El Retiro in my back yard and quickly learned to get lost (and then found…wow, I’m so deep) in the labyrinth of tiny pathways, all the while admiring the small fountains, the scattered monuments and the golden colors of autumn.

The following month, Lauren and I found our permanent home in Madrid which happened to be right next to the Parque Deheaven Dehesa. Okay, okay, I’ve made that joke elsewhere but let’s just look past that and let me have my fun with words. But seriously, doesn’t this kind of look Iike heaven?

Those views are worth running for if you ask me, but then again so is beer. And so I find myself at that time again: training season. The time of year where Liz and I decide that it’s a good idea to run 13.1 miles (there was that one time that we thought 26.2 miles would be a good idea) motivated only by visions of beer and a medal. If you’re thinking ‘that’s not enough motivation to train for a half marathon’, well, you would be right. By the end, training almost always ends up being replaced by talking about training while looking at motivating pictures. But it turns out that beer and medals are just enough motivation to run 13.1 miles on a Sunday morning while the rest of the world is still sleeping. Although somewhere along the line, we got old learned that mimosas are actually much better rewards. So, eleven weeks from today, that’s where you will find us: chugging up one of Madrid’s many hills and chanting “medals, mimosas, beers…medals, mimosas, beers.”

Of Castles and Aqueducts

You may have noticed that none of my posts so far have been about Spain even though I do currently live there. Well it finally happened. Last weekend I took the opportunity to get out of Madrid without actually leaving the country. Crazy, I know. And I was rewarded with some snow-capped Spanish mountains but we’ll get to that later.

Lauren and I took a tour with Citylife Madrid, which plays host to all sorts of trips, get-togethers and social outings. It’s probably geared toward the typical study abroad student, but, whatever, we wanted to go to Segovia and they were going there. Scene opens to two girls grabbing croissants and coffee and running down the street to the bus.

Destination: Segovia
Travel time: one hour, thirty minutes
Mode of transport: bus, oh dear

First things first, the photo op. It was kind of funny to watch everyone like off of the bus and immediately start clicking photos. Even though the sun really didn’t want us to take pictures. The Alcazar de Segovia is said to be one of the inspirations for Cinderella’s Castle in The Magic Kingdom (another of which is Neuschwanstein Castle in Bavaria…which John and I will be visiting soon!). And for that reason it will heretofore be referred to as Cinderella’s castle. We quickly surveyed the exterior of the castle and then headed into town for a tour.

The city is itself incredibly old and was named a UNESCO World Heritage site in 1985, along the Aqueduct of Segovia. The aqueduct is 818 meters long and is considered the most important Roman civil engineering project in Spain. Over fifteen kilometers long and more than 160 arches! Let’s be honest it has to be one of the most impressive looking ones in the world.

 

But if you were to ask the Spanish, the Romans didn’t actually build the aqueduct, the devil did. You’re telling me devil brought water to the town of Segovia? Well sure. According to the legend, a young girl used to have to climb to the tops of the mountains surrounding the town in search of water and then carry it all the way back home. One day she made a deal with the devil to construct some sort of structure that would prevent her from having to trudge all the way to Timbuktu just to get water. (There’s no record of the conversation, so that’s probably not exactly how she worded it, but I imagine it was something like that). The devil listened to her request and said that he would do it for a price: her soul. The girl agreed but that night when the devil went to work on the aqueduct, she found herself regretting that decision. She prayed to the Virgen de la Fuencisla for help all night long. When the sun rose the next morning, there stood the aqueduct and yet the girl was fine. But how could that be? Well apparently the devil never actually finished the aqueduct; there was one stone missing. And in that space is a statue of the Virgen de la Fuencisla. Leave it to the Spanish to outsmart the devil.

But back to the town and more importantly the castle.

But wait, it isn’t over! From there it was on to Pedraza, a little medieval village that looks like, well, a medieval village. Not only that, but there are only 500 residents and one single road in and out. But most impressive was the view. In case you hadn’t already figured it out, I’m a sucker for mountains, especially cloaked in snow.

 

So there are my first check marks on the rapidly growing list of destinations to discover within Spain. Segovia: check. Pedraza: check. Two down, maybe about twenty five to go…

Throw Back…Tuesday? Christmas in Copenhagen

‘Twas the day after my birthday
And all ’round the land,
The snow was falling right there in my hand.
The children (okay, me) nestled all snug in an air mattress
With visions of hot cocoa and marshmallows, no less

Okay, none of that happened. Except for the air mattress; that definitely happened. But if years of Hallmark television has taught me anything about the Christmas season, it was that there had to be snow and mugs full of steaming hot cocoa and crackling fireplaces. Madrid had definitely gotten the memo about Christmas lights. Be on the lookout for that post! But snow, hot cocoa, roaring fires? Not really possible when it’s a balmy 18 degrees (Celsius, that is). Where could I find Christmas cheer and the weather to match? Why Copenhagen, of course! So I packed my things and touched down in the happiest country in all of the land.

That's quite the welcome at the airport
That’s quite the welcome at the airport

From there, it was the perfect night to go for a walk and get the lay of the land. A couple of Christmas trees later and after an Irish pub sighting or two, it was time to call it a day. The next day would be a busy one.

First on the agenda, breakfast and coffee. The most important meals of the day. I had heard of this place that made amazing porridge (believe me, I was just as surprised to hear that porridge could be amazing) and it did not disappoint. Plus the place was rather charming with an adorable window peeking out into the world. The coffee shop was literally a room with a La Marzocco machine staring at you as you walked in. I probably could have watched her make five lattes and still not know how to use that thing, but it was cool to see.

I took the rest of the day to meander around the river and the cute side streets of the city. Somehow the architecture and the doors really spoke to me, oddly enough. So let me take you on a stroll…

The rest of the day was spent at the Kastellet, a 17th Century fortress, complete with its own windmill. If you look at it from above its’s actually shaped like a star! On the way back I visited the little mermaid statue. This status was based on the Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale The Little Mermaid and was presented to the city in 1913 by brewer Carl Jacobsen (son of the founder of Carlsberg). Jacobsen loved the character so much that he hired sculptor Edvard Erikson to sculpt the mermaid. Erikson’s wife, Eline, actually posed for the statue!

I really love breakfast so I did plenty of research on where to have breakfast. Møller’s Kaffee & Køkken was by far my favorite while I was there. It was bright and cheery and downright delicious.

And it gave me the fuel I needed to tackle the Nyhavn canal district and Christmas market for the rest of the day.

The next day was the big day. I visited the castle and had afternoon tea at the Parliament building, which I rather enjoyed. I think that should be incorporated into my daily life from now on.

But the highlight and the whole point of the trip: Tivoli Gardens. Tivoli is an amusement park right in the middle of the city. Founded in 1843, the gardens often played host to Hans Christian Andersen and Walt Disney himself. During Christmas, the gardens are decked out in Christmas trees and Christmas lights and glogg abounds! How about you just see for yourself…

Heaven am I right?

Oh and for the record, glogg is mulled wine with cinnamon, raisins, almonds and rum. Aebelskivers are a cross between a pancake and a popover and are dipped in or filled with jam, usually strawberry, blackberry or raspberry. Yum.

The last day was a little out of the ordinary for me: Freetown Christiania. Christiania is a self-proclaimed autonomous neighborhood located within Copenhagen. They even have their own currency and flag. The area was originally created as military barracks; however, they were subsequently taken over by squatters in 1971. The area is known for its non-traditional lifestyle, most notably the ability to freely purchase marijuana; however, it is also chock full of all kinds of artwork. For a while the authorities in Copenhagen pretty much let them be; however, they are now requiring that the residents pay for the land if they want to stay there. They made their first payment in July of 2012.

Pretty neat, huh? That tree painted on the side of the building might be one of my favorite things ever. And it’s just there…in the middle of the city. No wonder they are the world’s happiest country. Alright, Carlsberg, I’ll give you some credit too. Skål!

 

Mountains and Coastlines and Villages, Oh My: Exploring the Welsh Countryside

I suppose I should start with introductions.

Everyone this is Wally; Wally, everyone. Wally was my companion on the rolling hills and gentle coasts of the Welsh countryside. And after witnessing my first car accident literally within 2 minutes of picking up my buddy here (key word here is “witnessing”. Don’t worry, Wally kept me very safe) and some arguments over the navigation system we got along swimmingly. So, fueled with coffee, I headed off on the open road.

Originally I was going to head through the gut of Snowdonia National Park; however, after a brief study of the map, I decided it made more sense to tackle the coastline first and hit Snowdonia on my way back. It turns out that Snowdonia is rather big so I crisscrossed in and out of it for much of my journey to Aberystwyth, my destination for the day. Anyway, first stop of the drive was Mumbles Pier because how could I not stop at a place called Mumbles Pier? I found the first of many houses that I could see myself living in, a nice boat to sail around the ocean blue and a lighthouse to always lead me home. What more could I ask for?

As for the rest of the drive, I’ll just let the pictures do the talking.

I made it into town just in time to see the castle (well castle ruins) against the nighttime sky. The castle was nice and all but it was the the view from the castle and the way that the color of the sky played off of the ocean that really caught me.

It was my goal to have some fresh seafood while I was on the coast and boy was that the right call. I popped in to Gwesty Cymru (google translate tells me that that means Hotel Wales) and had the sea bream. I don’t know what sea bream is, but it was absolutely delightful.

New day, new destination. Which means more time with my good friend Wally. My final stop was to be in Bethesda/Bangor but there were many stops to make along the way, to admire small towns, rolling waves and snow-capped mountains.

One such small town was the seaside village of Portmeirion. Architect Clough Williams-Ellis purchased it in 1925 and spent the next 50 years developing it. His intent was to show how a beautiful site could be developed without spoiling it. The resulting village looks like a little slice of Italy right there in the middle of Wales, overlooking the Traeth Bach tidal estuary and surrounded by a sub-tropical forest called Y Gwyllt. It may have taken him 50 years to develop but I think the final result was well worth the wait.

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I’m actually jumping in this picture although it looks like I’m summoning the heavens. It rained the entire next day. I can only blame myself…

After a pint at the very cosy, first licensed pub in Wales, I finally made it to my lodging which for the first (and only) time on this trip was an Airbnb. The lack of wifi was rather disappointing but holy cow did the view make up for it.

 

I had a long day ahead of me and coffee was a necessity so I stopped in at The Alpine Coffee Shop and made friends with a gorilla. It probably helped that he wasn’t real because monkeys aren’t usually my thing. But something about this shop converted me into such a softie that I wanted to go up and give that fake monkey a hug. Must have been something in the latte. Continue reading Mountains and Coastlines and Villages, Oh My: Exploring the Welsh Countryside

Cardiff, Wales

Remember in my last post I said that my feet weren’t surrounded by snow? Well, I was aching for snow (because I am almost always aching for snow) so I decided to change that. I realize this post is coming days before the east coast is going to be slammed by a nor’easter and I feel for you, I really do. Once I became an adult and lost the reality of snow days, I learned that less is more in the snow department. That said I would love to see how the madrileños would react to a foot and a half of snow. The coldest it has been since I arrived here is the mid-40s and you would think it was Antarctica. So anyway, I took off in search of snow. I didn’t go to the Alps or the Pyrenees or the Urals, I went to Wales. I wanted to see the land of my people. Well, my other people. But apparently my other people are rather popular…

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Or maybe they’re so unpopular that they don’t care enough to restock? At least I got to see one of them…

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Hello Eli

Wales is a beautiful country and I got a little camera happy so I may have to break this into a couple of posts. I’m thinking one of city living, full of history, castles and pubs; and one of the countryside, full of majestic mountains, smooth coastlines and snow, glorious snow.

I started in Cardiff, the capital city of Wales since 1955 which is surprisingly recent if you ask me. And like any good tourist, I went straight to Cardiff Castle. The site originally contained a Roman fort that was later abandoned in the fifth century, when the Romans had to get out of Dodge. The Normans constructed the current castle in 1091. It still stands today; however, through the years modifications have been made to suit the tastes of its many owners.

For me, the most interesting part was the blackout shelter that had been constructed within the walls. In 1939, Lord Bute allowed these walls to be breached with new entrances so that they could become public air raid shelters. Up to 1800 people could seek refuge within these walls and some even slept here. The walls are now full of propaganda posters, one of which contains a casserole dish that bears a remarkable resemblance to Winston Churchill. For a casserole dish.

From there I was finally on to the Keep. Originally it had been constructed out of wood, but was reconstructed out of stone. When I first got there at 9:30, it was closed due to icing but they were able to open it by the time I got around and, one hundred stairs later, I got to be the very first person to go up for the day. The views were well worth the climb.

Next on the agenda was the medieval, Gothic-style clock tower. It seems to me that every European city has their own fancy clock tower. I kind of want one of my own. The tower was designed by William Burges for 3rd Marquess of Bute and due to its intricate design it took five years to complete.

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On to the house! Now here is a place where I can envision people living. It’s so warm and inviting, even though the Bute family spent only a couple of weeks a year there. Psh, royalty, am I right?

Finally, the military museum. That’s where I learned that the Dragoons Guard cavalry captured an elephant when attacking rebel forces in the Battle of Lucknow in 1858. (Can that please be a Trivial Pursuit question someday?) And I also learned that traditionally a goat would lead the Welsh forces into battle. The story goes that during the Crimean War, a bleating goat warned the troops of a Russian attack. From there on out, Hebe, the goat was adopted as a mascot by the 41st Foot. Finally, I also discovered that the Welsh have a rather wonderful sense of humor.

What would I say is the most important thing I learned there? I would be very inexperienced leading troops into battle but, man, would I look good doing it.

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Next on the agenda was a walk down to the bay but after a full morning of learning (and climbing!), my body and brain were tired. So after a quick coffee stop in which I eavesdropped on two guys talking about protein shakes and Iron Man events in front of sewing machines and dainty teacups, I finally found my way to the bay.

The day ended with a walk around the Bute Gardens, where I tried to summon some supernatural spirits with the standing stones; felt incredibly small next to some very old trees; and made friends with a boar. At least I think that’s a boar. Or maybe he’s a creature from Where the Wild Things Are.

All in all, a successful day in the city. Join me in my next post when I take a drive…on the wrong side of the road…on the wrong side of the car.

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