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Friday, December 14, 2018

Seeing the Sights: Dachau for the Holidays

As strange as it sounds, I did break up visits to Christmas Markets around southern Germany with a sobering visit to Dachau, the first Nazi concentration camp. I've been to Munich a few times, and hadn't comprehended how close the Dachau camp is to central Munich. Very easily reachable on the S-Bahn, free, and an odd piece of open space in a packed city. Obviously, the space was set aside for historical education purposes, and was the first camp to be set up as a museum (opened in 1965 and with much consultation from survivors). And in a new segment I'm adding to the blog, it's a 10/10 on the introvert's travel scale. I spent the day there and talked to no one. You don't need an entry ticket, signage provides all the info, and while not everything's in English, most is.

Since it was December, there was intermittent snow, and with each flurry, I thought about the person/movie/poem/wherever that talked about how, when crematoria first went into use in these type of camps, the residents thought it was snowing as the ash fluttered out of chimneys, and were horrified when the realization hit them.

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A short walk from the bus stop, past the visitor center I briefly walked through on my way out, is the guard house with the "Arbeit Macht Frei" gate. This one is a recreation, since the original was stolen, later found in... Norway?, and is now under glass in the museum section. In addition to this note about the value of work, paint on the roof of the main building read: "There is a path to freedom. It's milestones are: Obedience, Honesty, Cleanliness, Sobriety, Hard Work, Discipline, Sacrifice, Truthfulness, Love of thy Fatherland."

Buildings left on the property describe various parts of life in the camp, and the property itself is mostly empty, with outlines of where barracks would have been. There's a nunnery at the back, crematoria off to one side, a Jewish memorial, block of solitary cells, and a maintenance building used as a museum and theatre (for a documentary about the camp) now.

This stands near the roll call grounds of the camp, and reads (in four languages): "May the example of those who were exterminated here between 1933-1945 because they resisted Nazism help to unite the living for the defence of peace and freedom and in respect for their fellow men." 
I started with the "Bunker," which was used for solitary confinement. Georg Elser was one of those kept here, who attempted to assassinate Hitler. Interestingly, cells were renovated for him, giving him three cells to move between, and he was allowed some personal effects. The "why" was never discussed, and I haven't been able to find it anywhere. Seems he should have received very different care...

Other individuals kept in the Bunker were clergymen, who had a set of cells to themselves (one person per cell), one for religious services, and another for day use. Three other cells were subdivided, leaving no space in each for a prisoner to sit or lie down: the "standing cells."

After liberation, the Bunker was used as offices for US military personnel, and was given a new coat of paint, which is still visible. A nice teal. Cell by cell, one can see peeling paint, broken pipes, etc., which probably aren't a whole lot different from what it would have looked like in it's heyday.

Shower room: then and now
This room had many purposes: bathing house, cinema, site of corporal punishment, concert hall
The museum started with an overview of the war's progression, specifically with the opening of concentration and extermination camps, subcamps, youth protective custody camps, ghettos, etc. throughout Europe. This system stretched the length and breadth of the continent. Dachau itself was opened in March 1933 to house political prisoners. By accounts, it doesn't operate in the modern conception of a concentration camp for some time; people are under watch, under fed, and barracks overpopulated, but they don't have the same level of suffering as modernity ascribes to concentration camps of the era. This would change, ramping up toward the end of the war. Medical experiments begin in 1942 along with corporal punishment, typhus breaks out in 1944 (63,000 people live in barracks built for 8,000).

At the end of the museum, some Dutch high schoolers had been part of a project to follow the lives of Dutch political prisoners in Dachau, called "Names, not Numbers." This exhibition was done in German and Dutch, so I couldn't follow much of it, but students read through their biographies, and many had artifacts from "their" prisoners and interviewed family. Another room had headstones of those whose last known location was Dachau.

After liberation, tens of thousands of people remained at Dachau, with no where else to go or awaiting assistance to return home. Refugees lived here for years after the war, with only the crematoria set aside as a place of remembrance. I did visit the crematoria area, which was expanded as the war went on, and it also included several gas chambers. I had some thoughts on how I might have portrayed things differently to make more of an impact on those visitors, but this is also a subject in which capturing realism isn't always possible... or a good idea.

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As this post is being written 10ish months after I visited, all the thoughts aren't as fresh. I've probably missed things, but that's the way life is. In summary: I visited a Concentration Camp for Christmas. 

Friday, July 27, 2018

Seeing the Sights: Colonial Williamsburg




Oh, hi, there. Long time, no see. Yesterday, I did some touristy things, and though I'd quickly share what went down, since this "Travel Blog" hasn't experienced my last handful of travels with me.

So, I'm in Virginia for the week, and Williamsburg seems like it's THE place to hit up while in the area. It's definitely a good place for those with an interest in history (esp. American) and politics. *raises my hand*

First Stop: Lyft to Williamsburg. (pre-soak in sunscreen)
Second Stop: Acquire tickets. We used a ticket machine because the ticket lines were long, but no one was at any of the ticket machines.
Third Stop: Info desk to hear about the mysterious "First Timers" map. X It's a lie. But she did give us some pro-tips and suggestions.
Fourth Stop: Reapply Sunscreen

Your typical colonial backyard, complete with British POW (not pictured).
All right, now we're ready. We took a loop around town in the shuttle bus (so convenient) to get the lay of the land, and got off at Market Square so we could walk Duke of Gloucester street before the sun rose too high in the sky and killed everyone. Overall, more cars than expected. While the main drag is pedestrian only from 8a-10pm, it's surrounded by streets that hustle and bustle. I'm still looking at satellite maps to figure out how it fits into Modern Williamsburg, because it is does seem to be two-ish streets, amid the 21st century. It was interesting to hear how the Rockefellers found a typical small town in the 1920s and 30s and over the course of decades turned back the clock, rebuilding old structures, taking down power lines, and were very involved in the reconstruction of the 1770s (the town operates in the year the Virginia House of Burgesses have decided to separate from the British Crown). It's created a tourism bubble filled with costumed employees, only a few of which are characters. AND employees can live on the property, which seems pretty cool.

  1. Public Armory/Tin Shop:
    • The Tin Shop was one that really illustrated the difference between characters and costumed employees. The woman mid-teapot-construction explained the types of things soldiers needed the tin shop to make, and how they were constructed. She used traditional methods, but also incorporated how those materials had been altered to fit OSHA standards (because no one wants to spend their days breathing in lead fumes). With most displays, a costumed individual gave information that was period appropriate, and some that wasn't. The costume is the uniform, they're not "time-traveling." Definitely interesting.
  2. Peyton Randolph's House
    • So, now I know a bit about Peyton Randolph, a prominent Virginia who dies the year before revolution. Bummer. Speaker of the House, President of the First Continental Congress, elected president of the Second but dies before it starts... making way for John Hancock. 
  3. Stockade
    • I stole a horse... or something. Photo credit to my mom.
  4. M. Dubois Grocer 
    • Emergency ice cream break, because its still hot. I had orange... orangesicle? Hard to tell. Reapply sunscreen.
  5. Rockefellers' Basset Hall:
    • We ended up getting a private tour of the Basset Hall, and the introductory video illustrated how Colonial Williamsburg came to be, thanks to time and $$ (68 mil) from the Rockefellers, who purchased property and spent many weeks of their year at this quiet retreat where few knew who they were. They picked up furniture and art odds and ends, not caring what matched, or if they knew who was in the paintings. The small Basset Hall wasn't special to them because it was grand... they had five houses after all.
    • Study of John D. Rockefeller, Jr. The room is designed around the painting above the fireplace.
  6. Stage discussion of religious freedom with James Madison, George Mason, and Thomas Jefferson
    • This was a recommendation from the information desk, and it was a pretty well attended event. These founding fathers discuss religious freedom in Virginia in the 1770s, and debate what it should mean in the future. At the time, you can practice whatever religion you want-ish, as long as you pay church taxes and attend a Protestant service once a month. But the issue has been brought before Virginia's several times, and they don't want change. Complicated. 
  7. Governor's Palace
    • Of course, colonial Virginia is run by a Royal Governor appointed by the King. The most prominent is Lord Dunmore of Scotland. He's got an impressive house to send subtle signals to the gentry, naturally. Because who doesn't. Why'd we move away from bold colored walls in houses, again? 
    • Backside, from the garden
  8. Chowning's Tavern Garden
    • Emergency root beer stop at a tavern... which was packed, so we went to the garden in the back. Remember, it's still hot. And humid. We did peek inside to use the restrooms. 
  9. Capitol
    • There was a 22-year-old (presumably) college student giving this tour, who was enthusiastic and impassioned about Virginia's history, its impact on the founding of the United States, and the responsibilities of each citizen. Much of the discussion in Williamsburg centers around the Declaration of Rights, a precursor to the U.S. Declaration of Independence and the Bill of Rights. The House of Burgesses worked to redefine what constituted a "right" rather than a "privilege" under a changing system. 
    • The capitol itself burned... several times. And in 1904 a stone marker was placed on the site, until in the 30s and 40s the Rockefellers rebuilt the dual-turret structure. The only original item is the Speaker's chair of the House of Burgesses.
    • The elected House of Burgesses (such a cool name) and the appointed Governor's Council make up the legislative branch. The Royal Governor is the executive. And the General Court of the judicial branch is made up of justices from the Governor's Council, and the Royal Governor acting as judge. There are juries, in which five people are allowed to personally know the defendant. Obviously, this system was changed as Virginia and the U.S. moved forward. 
    • In the "room" where the Declaration of Rights was debated by a committee of 37.
      King William's portrait is in the background. He's a big deal. 
We didn't do everything, but we hit the big stops. And it was hot. An interesting, educational, and enjoyable way to spend the day. AND! No one was sunburned! √√

Tuesday, May 15, 2018

Holidays 2014/2015: Central Europe Edition

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Remember that time I studied abroad? As is evident from the title, this post is loooong overdue and has just been waiting in my draft folder. I haven't reviewed it much, except to finish it (the last few days are, for lack of a better word, lackluster), since writing it in January of 2015. So have fun with that.

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As weird as the finals schedule is here (and by "weird" I mean very different from what I'm accustomed to, not "wrong" or "bad,"  just different) I pretty much had a month and a half off between semesters. A month and a half in Europe. With not much I was required to do. Sounds like a dream come true? It was in a way, though it had its ups and downs. But the bigger question is: what did I do with it? If you'd like to know the answer, stay tuned for a fairly long post. Feel free to come back a few times to get through it all. Grab yourself some crisps and ice cream, sink into a comfy chair, and let's get crackin'!

THE PLAN: I catch a bus early-early-early, to arrive at the Riga Airport just in time to catch the first flight of the day to Amsterdam. I'd spend the day eating cheese and stroopwafels and the night at a rock 'n' roll themed hostel before heading to the airport, landing in Rome just after my family. They would fly to Seattle, spend the evening there, then head to Philadelphia and on to Rome. That's what was supposed to happen. But everything went... Awry.

December 24th: My bus leaves from Tartu around 2am, so I'm packed, ready, and waiting at the station at 1:45am, just to be on the safe side, having not slept in a long while. A bus comes, different logo on the bus than my ticket, so I know it's not my bus. But time ticks on and its the only one there. So, I ask the driver if this bus is going to the Riga airport; he looks at my ticket, points at the logo, and tells me my bus will be at the one platform on the other side of the building (something that might not make sense unless you've seen the Tartu bus station). Checking my watch, I hustle around to the other side of the building and watch the last couple minutes pass before my bus is scheduled to depart. Waiting a bit longer, I finally call the company, who says the bus has come and gone. I must have rounded the corner as it turned out of sight, a few minutes early. I head across the street to a hotel and ask if they have a bus schedule. While the receptionist pulls one up, a bus arrives at the station, a bus on the same route I need... But going the other direction. So close! Alas, because it's the middle of the night, the next bus isn't until 6am, just before my plane is supposed to take off. Fantastic.
     I settle into a couch in the lobby of the hotel, having begged the wifi password off the receptionist. From there I had to make a new plan. Luckily, my parents hadn't left home yet, and my mom helped me figure out a new set of flights and I had a new bus ticket. Unfortunately, this took the majority of the time I had between buses, and wasn't able to go back to my dorm and take a nap. From there, the ride was pretty smooth sailing. I ended up with a layover in Frankfurt over night (15 hours), with a whole wing of the airport to myself. I found a bench near an outlet.  I chatted with my mom as they went to the airport and found themselves in Seattle. I watched movies, felt the annoyance of having to pack up all my things every time I went to the bathroom. After many hours, my family packed up to head to Philadelphia.
     Sooner than expected, my mom's back online. She pops up to say she's got bad news. I'm thinking lost baggage? My dad was already not feeling well, so maybe that's worse? But no. Getting on the plane from Seattle, my brother was denied entry to Italy, so he and my mom were headed back home. My dad was still on his way, but all of us wouldn't be together for Christmas. After one extremely long and trying day, and little sleep over the last days, I broke down. It's a good thing I was alone because I likely looked ridiculous. I attempted to lift my spirits with Christmas movies, but the moral of most of those stories is the importance of family, and my family was half a world away. My mom decided to stay up with me until I left Frankfurt.



December 25th: I got a second wind in the wee hours of the morning, between crying at Christmas movies, and I went completely berserk. I ran up and down the halls, was jumping around like a crazy person. But as the time of my flight approached, I dropped like a fly. If only I had been actually able to sleep.
     I had to cross the Lufthansa portion of the airport to get to my new gate before the sun rose and before many of the moving sidewalks had been turned on. Frankfurt is not a small airport. Still pretty exhausted, I was having the occasionally tear-filled breakdown. I made a note for myself that says, "I love Christmas, I'm just tired and frustrated. I love Christmas, I'm just tired and frustrated. I love Christmas I'm just tired..." to remind myself that I don't hate Christmas, since there were definitely moments where I needed that reminder.
     As I boarded, my mom went to bed. My dad was already most of the way there, so I had a new focus. Not "waste the next 15 hours" and "quit crying like a baby," but get to Rome and find my dad. I attempted to sleep on the plane, but that's typically impossible; I might have slept for a few minutes over the course of the flight. My flight did land early, early enough that I hit Roman soil before my dad's flight from Philadelphia. Not having to go through passport control, I hit baggage claim even sooner. I did manage to pack everything for our 17 days in my school backpack, and my mom had said my dad was just traveling with a duffle bag (no surprise there). But I know enough about airports to know everybody ends up at baggage claim. So, I waited. And I waited. Turns out, while I can receive his texts, he can't receive mine. Eventually, though, I found him. We found the train station and headed into Rome before continuing onto Naples. Lesson #1: He's really into buildings having roofs. (The countryside is covered in these little farm buildings, which for whatever reason seem to be missing their roofs.)
The two empty First Class seats on the train.
   After two days of travel, and a losing battle with fake sugars, we were still in need of sleep. From the train station in Naples we went to our hotel. After acquiring the wifi password, I did some things, and in no time at all, Papa was snoring. And he stayed that way for many hours. He woke up every now and again to say, "So, what's the plan?" before snoring again. Dinner eventually called and we we headed out to the "best pizza in Naples."

Naples was dressed in its Christmas best, here's a blurry picture to prove it. There were Christmas lights in every alley. Unfortunately, we walked past the pizza place the first time, and by the time we found our way back, it was closed. We ended up at a pizza stand, though it did have the best pizza Papa ate while in Italy. Apparently, he's picky about his pizza crusts. We video chatted with my mom and brother, and did the gift exchanging thing. Then I called my grandma, after my dad had the genius epiphany on how I could call her. Twenty-seven minutes, zero dollars. :) Pizza, Mrs. Santa Claus, and not getting hit by cars in Naples. While it wasn't the Christmas we'd planned or hoped for, it was Christmas. A memorable one, even if for reasons I'd rather it had not.

December 26th: We got tickets for a tour of Pompeii and so headed out to find the dock where our bus would meet us. The cab dropped us off in front of a couple of gentlemen with guns keeping watch over a couple of US naval vessels. Finding our way back to the buses, none of them seemed to be ours. We walked back and forth along the dock asking drivers if their bus was going to Pompeii. No, nope, nada, nyet, ei, nein. Finally, we called the company, since the departure time of the bus had come and gone, and they sent a driver to pick us up. We met up with the rest of the people who were on our tour and our guide, Lucia, and headed into the ruins.
There are a bunch of pictures on Facebook,
so I don't want to fill up all the space
with duplicate pictures, but here's the carriage
wheel ruts in the road and the stone crosswalk.
 
I definitely loved the orchestral ampitheatre, and it was, of course, fantastic to walk through historic streets so well preserved. It did have a bit of that "too well preserved" feeling that I've had in a few different places; a place so well preserved it's hard to imagine people actually living there. It wasn't as intense in Pompeii as it was in Anne Frank's house. Though, the most memorable portion of our trip to Pompeii was the New Jersey Mafia member on our tour. He had the stereotypical look you'd find in a movie, and asked the most ridiculous questions. If you've seen the photo album on Facebook, he's the guy we named "Don't Be That Guy", and tried not to be for the rest of the trip. He had to know if everything was original (most of which was very clearly original), why the houses didn't have roofs, how much the ash covered, etc. These weren't even the craziest of his questions (unfortunately, I'm not remember the specific questions, but he also fulfilled the stereotype of the stupid American tourist). At the end of the tour, we were offered limoncello, which Papa accepted, apparently not totally aware of what it was. The look on his face = priceless.
   We had lunch in Pompeii (spaghetti, beef/seafood, Tiramisu gelato) before heading with a family from Illinois up the Amalfi Coast. Our driver drove for Nicholas Cage (who was a jerk), and Kevin Costner (who filmed a canned tuna commercial). We stopped at scenic viewpoints along the way overlooking several of the towns: Positano, Amalfi, Ravello, etc. We saw islands used for celebrity's birthday parties and the houses of world famous designers, and the Italian coast, warm even in December. We touched the Mediterranean, and totally would have swum in it, it was still warm. And we saw a Christmas Palm tree.
     We headed back to Naples over the mountain, through lemon tree groves. Between a long day and a long car ride, we had to work at keeping awake. My camera wouldn't capture the lights of the city as we headed down the other side and toward the hotel, crashing almost as soon as we got back.

December 27th: We checked out of our hotel and headed to the train station, bound for Rome once again. From there, we bought bus tickets and found our way to the apartment we were renting, just off the walls of the Vatican. We didn't do much, just wandered. We had to pass the Basilica anytime we went anywhere, and ate dinner right across the street. It looks spectacular lit up at night.

December 28th: We made a walking plan, to hit a lot of the big sites in Rome: Colosseum, Circus Maxima, Forum, etc. A big loop that would hit most of them. We walked up hill from our flat and ended up on top of a hill next to the Spanish Embassy. Our loop was certainly not the shortest route between these points, but we saw lots of Rome off the tourist trail. And the entire time we walked through the streets of Rome for the next several days, I had an entire soundtrack of songs about Rome playing in my head. We saw some awesome street performers near the Colosseum. Along the street to the Colosseum, there are pieces of the Roman Forum in the middle of the road. America has medians, Rome has a bunch of pits with ancient marble work. My dad was in Italy 30 years ago, so we stopped by a couple of places that he remembered, like Piazza Navona. Apparently, when he was there last, it wasn't a big tourist spot, but now it's up on all the tourist signs with the Pantheon, Forum, Colosseum, etc. We attempted the to see the Trevi fountain, but since this is "off season" it was covered in scaffolding and being worked on. So much for that.
   That night, we went out for the "best pizza in Rome", which happened to be about a 15 minute walk from our apartment. All the reviews online raved about this place (Bonci's). It's a tiny, tiny little pizzeria, but we loaded a box up with different kinds of pizza (unfortunately, the one with orange marmalade was left behind), and took it back with us. It can be hard separating everything I know about pizza from Italian pizza, since Americans and Italians do pizza differently. The pizza was good, and I'm sure by Roman/Italian standards it was high up on the list of pizza places, but from this American's perspective, it wasn't the best pizza ever. While it never claimed to be the best ever (just the best in Rome), I was still expecting more. The pizzeria definitely had unique flavours, which I could easily see as being part of the draw. Good, but not fantastic.

December 29th: With my parents being split up at the beginning of the trip, some monetary kerfuffle took place. That's lead us to several ATMs this morning. After trying a super high-security bank, my dad gave up. But! In our visit to the bank, we ran across one of the many people who stand on street near tourist spots and entice you into the tours their company offers. Having looked through many tours online, the man we came across was offering the same tour for about the same price as the Vatican would, so we figured, why not? We toured the Vatican museums with Ribal, who started by taking us down into the newly reopened exhibit on the Pope's transportation throughout time. Horse drawn carriages, gifts from dignitaries, the Pope-mobiles, etc. While the Vatican museums contain some interesting and amazing pieces, everything seems set up to funnel everyone into the Sistine Chapel. While that is why many people are there, it didn't seem like anyone was there for the sake of the museum; as if the museums were nothing more than historically decorated walls and signs pointing the way to the Chapel.
Apollo Belvedere
     I saw an extremely old copy of the Apollo Belvedere (which my history of English literature professor has not shut up about for the last semester), St. Helen's sarcophagus, and the residence of former Pope Ratzinger. This is the first time there have been two Popes living within the walls of Vatican City. We ended up, of course, in the Sistine Chapel. I found out that the chimney used during Conclave is removed afterward, which explains why I didn't see it when I looked. There were so many people; I can't imagine what it's like in the summer. Places like Rome don't seem to have an "off" season, just a "less on" season. The Chapel is rigged with a speaker system, so you could hear these loud announcements telling everyone to be quiet. I imagined that the place would actually be much quieter than it was, but alas. While the ceilings are massive, the space wasn't as big as I'd expected it to be, though that could have been due to the amount of people there. 
     From there we headed into the Basilica. We saw the tomb of St. Pope John Paul II, which only the previous day (or was it the day before) had been visited by the man who attempted to assassinate him. There was clearly an incredible amount of time, effort, and money poured into the creation of that building. It certainly puts other churches to shame with the amount of sculpture, guilding, etc. I'm not sure it does it successfully, however. As impressive as it is, there is so much being shoved down your throat that after a while you don't notice how much is there. We visited the catacombs below the floor of the Basilica; the oldest Pope whose sarcophagus we saw died in the mid 1200s. He's got nothing on St. Peter, age wise, but still impressive. The waiting list to see St. Peter, however, is miles and miles long so we didn't partake of that particular experience.
     Next we headed to the top of St. Peter's Basilica. It's a 7 euro ticket to take the elevator most of the way up, and the last 320 steps you do on your own. There was a large Southern family in front of us who were bringing their grandmother(s?) up to the top. Not a choice I would have made, but more power to them. At the top of the elevator, you can look out over the heart of the Basilica below. I'm not great with heights, so I did less looking and more shuffling.
With the curve of the dome, the staircases and the walls aren't perpendicular, and you almost feel the need to lean to the side as you go up the stairs. Trippy. But the view from the top was fantastic, in between skipped heart beats at how high up we were. We'd made it to the top, which started us climbing all sorts of things as we visited other cities. On the roof of the Basilica, there's a gift shop (of course) and we picked up a few post cards to mail in the letter box up there. We were on the roof as the sun went down and the lights of the dome came on! And that was our day in Vatican City!

December 30th: I'd been desperately trying to find an "Angels & Demons" tour of Rome/Vatican City, but to no avail. With the holidays and the year winding down, there weren't any :(. I read through a self-guided tour online, and we'd already been to several of the places on the list, so I looked into visiting the others while we were in Rome, though not necessarily all at once. So instead of visiting the "Angels & Demons" book and movie locations, we toured the Forum & the Colosseum. Lots of pieces of things that had fallen over, lots of green, plenty of people. The sun was shining, though a bit windy. And when it came time to find food, we headed for the Hard Rock Cafe Rome, conveniently located across the street from the US Embassy. We got there around 3pm, figuring post-lunch pre-dinner the place would be fairly empty. Wrong. It was completely packed, but 45 minutes later, we were squeezed into a two person table.
Streets were lined with national flags, so of course I found the Eesti Flag! 
     Since we were unable to book an Angels & Demon's tour, I booked another tour with the same company: and hour and a half "Dark Rome" tour of ghost stories. Of course, the most decent time for this is at night, so we had a few hours to kill before finding our way to the church where the tour would start. We picked up a variety of cannoli, found the Spanish Steps (I was expecting... more), checked out the lit up display of world flags running down one of Rome's central streets, etc. We got to the church a bit early and stepped inside. It's crazy to have these huge, massive churches in the middle of such a hustlin' bustlin' city and have them be so quiet. Our tour guide was from Maryland, and many of the members of our tour were Americans as well. Personally, I really enjoyed the tour. It was very different from the usual tour of Rome, and you really get a sense of the age of the city by hearing the stories of its inhabitants from centuries ago. Yes, the Colosseum is a good indicator of it's age, but personal stories are different. A monk with radical ideas who taught and was taught by incredible historical people before being burned, lowering the crime rate by simple placing pictures of the Virgin Mary strategically around the city, a single mother who made a living selling poisons out of an apartment she now haunts and that has been vacant more often than not, a woman wrongly imprisoned and then killed who sparked a change in Rome's prison system. Real people who really walked the streets, lived their lives in the buildings that have been standing longer than my brain can comprehend.
     My dad thought otherwise.

December 31st: We moved accommodations to a different part of town for our last night and spent a bit of the day wandering our new area. In the evening, we trekked to the Circus Maximus for my first open-air concert, put on for New Years Eve. Unsurprisingly, I hadn't heard of any of the bands playing, the first of which was "Spiritual Front" followed later by "Mannarino." I didn't catch the names of the others in rapid-fire Italian. The weather was a bit chilly, and when we finally grew tired of being shoved around in the mosh pit near the stage, we headed back. Papa, per usual, passed out, but I read until just before midnight and ran outside with my camera. No one does fireworks like Rome. They were everywhere; any direction you turn, any street you take has fireworks at the other end. Each significant building launched their own. It was incredible. (I took a bunch of photos, and shockingly, they're all blurry...)

January 1st: Today we journeyed to Florence, which, if I'm honest, I wasn't really expecting to enjoy. Being the city of artists and the Renaissance, I could understand how my dad and Tyrnan would have liked it, but I just didn't think I would.
Hospital? Really? 
    After checking in to our hotel (which took us plenty of time to find), we headed out. I don't think we had il Duomo in mind, but it's hard to not wind up there. While the Baptistry was being worked on, the duomo certainly packs and eyeful on it's own. I love that it's so very different, being green, 'n' all. We were there before the crowds, though there were still enough people in the piazza. My dad led the way, as he'd been here before, and I got a bit of history lesson. We stumbled across the most incredible looking hospital, and found ourselves in front of the obligatory welcome-to-a-new-Italian-city-let's-try-the-pizza restaurant. This wasn't so much pizza as pizza ingredient soup on a warm tortilla. It had the world's thinnest crust and couldn't even hold up its own toppings, which proceeded to slide off. All in all, could use a bit of work.
All up in baby Jesus' face. 

January 2nd: It's gallery day! We picked up tickets to the Galleria dell'Accademia and began exploring. Impressively, there's no glass between you and 99% of anything, so you can get up close and personal to inspect brush strokes (and believe me, one of the two of us did... and it wasn't me). Even with as old as some of these paintings were, from the 13th century, you could practically stick your nose on the thing! And, of course, we saw the David and watched a short clip on his creation and restoration. Seriously, that guy is everywhere in Florence. Replicas in squares, on hill tops, tiny replicas in shops. There is no escaping him! Among other things, I developed my conspiracy of 7. Throughout a selection of the paintings depicting Jesus & Mary, Jesus' little baby fingers are holding up a number 7. I want to know why; across space and time (more time than space, really) artist have depicted this same hand-shape. What up with that?!
     Exit the gallery and you find yourself a short stroll away from the Ponte Vecchio, and we thought to ourselves "Don't mind if I do?" On the other side, we picked up one of my Italian bucket list items: gelato. One cup, four flavours: egg cream, coffee, stracciotella, and coconut.
     From there, we picked a spot and went. There was a building on a hill above the city and decided to explore. We found a man with a giant bubble wand along the way, before ending up, initially, at the Piazza Michelangelo. We'd stumbled into another tourist trap. Run away, run away! And run away we did, continuing up the hill to a church with the most spectacular view. The Abbazia di San Miniato al Monte reflected a bit of the colour scheme in il Duomo. Outside there was an extensive cemetery. And I'm talking extensive with a capital E, and probably a couple other letters. The graves didn't seem to be very old, most of them within the last century. The interior was covered in art, as Italian churches tend to be, and there were monks moving to and fro. The gift shop advertised cookies made by monks, and we were game for that, but the number of people in the tiny space immediately had us changing out minds. Honestly, the most spectacular part was the view, across the city, up into the hills behind it, dotted with castles and houses. I thought it'd be a bit cliche, and I guess it is, but I totally understand the fascination with Tuscany. Aside from all of the other amazing things we saw in Florence, that view alone had me in love.
Ugh.
     By the time we reached Piazza Michelangelo again, the sun was setting and the sky, with it's pinks, oranges, blues, purples, and thin clouds looked like it had been painted there. It didn't matter how many pictures we tried to take, the camera wouldn't capture how incredible it looked.
     We made our way down the hill and walked along the river. Peering over the wall we saw what looked to be a beaver with a rat tail. We hoped it was a beaver with a rat tail and not a rat the size of a beaver. We watched this thing and it's family occasionally whispering, "It can't be a rat. It's huge." In the Hard Rock, we started chatting with a couple from Texas about these animals and I did some searching and found out what it was. Papa didn't want to know; he preferred the ignorance of believing it was a rat. They call it a river rat/nutria/coypu, and often eat them.
     Anyway, after moving back across the now basically deserted Ponte Vecchio we headed toward the spires of the Firenze Library. While closed the public, I did take a picture outside. From there, we tried to find the building attached to the next tower, which turned out to be a type of trade school, though the big "do not pass" sign convinced us we shouldn't wander closer to learn more. It was just down the street from the piazza of the Basilica di Santa Croce with it's huge imposing statue of Dante Alighieri. The piazza was empty, so I took the opportunity to lay in roughly the centre of it and attempt to star gaze. Unfortunately, the weather did not allow for this activity.
     For dinner, we decided upon the Hard Rock Cafe. In case you don't know, one of the activities on my bucket list is to visit every Hard Rock Cafe in the world. Not necessarily the cheapest place to have dinner, but... The nachos are pretty good.

January 3rd: The obligatory bus trip to Pisa. Who knew that everything there is to see in Pisa is found within a 3 block radius, and if you're not interested in the international school for super smart kids, it's all in the same piazza! We found a lucky lizard, saw the international school for super smart kids (because why not), and climbed the Tower of Pisa. We heard the story of the church at the base of the tower, and how it's single red column was stolen from another building to try and make this one cheaper to complete; I seriously doubt that the single column made any significant difference, whatsoever.
Smart kids enter here. 
     Anyway, we climbed the tower, which is actually a bell tower, though the bells are no longer rung. I didn't really feel much of the tilt as I was going up, but once at the top, you can definitely tell. It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, though I didn't move around much. The experience would have been better if I hadn't realized I was missing my wallet on the last few steps to the top. After that I was a bit preoccupied. We ate a few apples, pretended to hold up or knock down the tower, as you do. While we were there, the sun went down and the moon came out, giving us some incredible views of the full moon over the piazza. Our camera's weren't bad, but not great either. From there we traveled back to Florence, where (as Papa guessed) I found my wallet exactly where I'd put it the night earlier. Good thing we hadn't needed much money all day!

January 4th:  We started off with lunch at Burger King, since it's right across from the train station, we had time to kill, and it's so very "foreign" since there isn't one at home or in Tartu. From there, we were off to Venice. Oddly enough, it doesn't smell like saltwater at all. No where smells like saltwater as much as home does! You can hear the water, you can see the water, but you can't smell it. I do not understand. We walked around in circles trying to find our hotel, but eventually we got there. The room was huge! But we weren't there long before we were back on the canals of Venice. I'd always dreamed of visiting Venice with my brother, who's been dreaming of going for a very long time. So it felt a bit weird not having him there. I thought about going somewhere else, when it was just Papa and I and we didn't have any real plans, but one of the few plans we did have were tickets from Venice to Munich so we went.
     Of course, the first stop was St. Mark's, because where else do you start? We found some cool graffiti along the way, and an "Alaskanized" sticker on a pipe. There are a million little piazzas; it seems there's one around every corner. There were manticore all over the place. It was pretty great. While part of me had hoped the place would be flooded, I'm glad it wasn't. As awesome as those boardwalks looked, I'm not sure I would have enjoyed sharing them with the number of people present.
     Stumbling across the nearby Hard Rock, we checked another one off the list and had some snacks. Big snacks. And walked back along the icicle light lit Rialto bridge.
     Upon returning to the hotel, we turned on the TV, just to see what was on. Surprise, surprise, a travel program on Seattle. It's like they knew we were there. Instead, we turned on Netflix and watched the "Vampires of Venice" episode of Doctor Who. As you do.

January 5th: Venice is full of street art (canal art?) and we spent plenty of time wandering and taking pictures of it all throughout our time in Venice. We also enjoy frequenting grocery stores and seeing what's different. Also, the number of period costumes with hoops feet off the ground makes me cringe.
     After breakfast on the terrace of our hotel (waitress thought we were crazy), we went in search of the Bridge of Sighs... which disappointed me. It was not at all what I had pictured in my head (which better matched the Oxford Bridge of Sighs). Alas. Today we took the water taxis out to several of the islands to check out the changes in scenery; each island is a little bit the same and a little bit different. And they all offer different perspectives on Venice proper. (The boats rock around A LOT when their engines aren't revved up.) I loved watching waves wash up against stairs into the sea, with the seaweed growing across them. In the afternoon, we took a nice walk along the seawall.

January 6th: More islands, more wandering, more "street" art. One of the taxis we took ended up coming back to Venice after the sun had set, which adds to the experience of floating past an island-cemetery. Oh, and we saw some churches. Did you know Italy had churches? Just a few.
     And if anyone can explain to me how Europeans manage using a mobile shower head without having a holder to put it into, that'd be great. Wedging it between the stationary rain shower head (not enough water pressure to get through all my hair) and the ceiling only lead to soap in my eyes. :( Ew.

January 7th: Today we're off to Germany! We took a night train, which was a new and cool experience. We're big fans. Would do again, do recommend. Still mobile, and yet comfortable enough that I was actually able to sleep. As soon as the train hit Munich, we were on another bound for Neuschwanstein via Füssen!
     Hohenschwangau is a quaint little place, and pretty much dead in the a) early morning and b) winter. Such fun. We "hiked" up the hill toward our hotel, which is at the base of Neuschwanstein Castle. Then we wandered.

The view from our window. No zooming. 
We took many-a-panoramic shot, went up to the castle, but not inside, and then headed up toward Mary's Bridge, which overlooks Neuschwanstein. With the ice and snow, it wasn't always... safe. But we did it! Pictures were taken quickly, and without looking down, before a cautious yet hasty exit was made. Great view, totally worth it. 
But did you die? 
     We weren't allowed to take photos inside the Hohenschwangau Castle, which is on the next hill over. That one is completed (unlike Neuschwanstein) and has been lived in for generations. One of the floors isn't open to visitors because the family still uses it. Honestly, while possibly a less interesting story, I found it much more interesting because it actually has history to it. Down by the lake (where the swans hang out, giving the place its name), we took a mazillion photos for my mom. In walking back up, I managed to slip down a grass knoll. After rubbing most of the muck and mud off in the snow, I was damp... Naturally, we went into a museum on the history of Bavarian monarchs to dry off. Who knew the place would be white on white on white, leaving me worried about sitting on anything. Fun, educational times. 
     Dinner time approached, but since we were visiting in the off-season, nothing was open. We tried to think if we'd seen a vending machine around and while headed to one found the only open restaurant, which was closing soon. We hustled in, ate, and hustled out. Best? Maybe not. Only? Yeah... This meant we headed back up the likely-wolf-infested hill in the dark, but did lead to some cool photos of a well-lit castle.

January 8th: The only smell that comes through our window is that of donuts. We couldn't figure out why, until we saw the dude with his donut-making cart. Real cool, real cool. And there's no way to turn down donuts if they're all you've been smelling all night. Luckily, they were delicious.
     During our hike back down the hill, we were greeted by a man driving a horse-drawn carriage, lederhosen and feathered cap, who tilted his hat at us with a "Morgen!" before going on his way. Classic. Love it.
     We headed back to Munich/München to explore urban Germany, something I really hadn't done before. I'd visited Germany before, but it was more... small town? Germany. We checked out the graffiti art along the train cars on the way back, of course, and started our city adventure by ditching our bags and wandering. Things I love about Germany: the way beds are made (two blankets folded next to each other), and tiny packets of tiny gummy bears whenever the beds are made. Winning.
     Hitting up the "must-dos" first, we had dinner at the Hofbräuhaus after zooming through Marienplatz. Essentially, it's a giant dining hall; you sit where you find a seat, order, and socialize. We did... some of those things. We found a table for just the two of us in the back, acquired an English menu, ordered (including a non-alcoholic wheat beer... personally, it tasted like corn), and enjoyed. It was a pretty good meal, but the pièce de résistance was dessert: the dampfnudel. A vanilla "custard" coated spongey roll... It was knee-weakening.

January 9th: As we wandered by the Residenz, we saw all the passers-by rubbing the nose of a statue. While we never learned the purpose/wish/goal of this action... When in "Rome." We stumbled across a mini Jewish museum... with a playground. So I played. Natürlich. Then we hit up a chocolateria with the "best hot chocolate in Munich." It was possibly my first experience with flavoured chocolate on a stick you melt into hot milk. Sorcha approved.
     We continued our wander, stopped in a church (and agreed we were churched-out, just needed to throw a Deutsche church into the mix of our vacay), found a few impressive buildings we attempted to identify, and ended up in a large, underground street art gallery. The walls of thus underpass had been lined with piece after piece after piece. Definitely nothing like it at home. Afterward, we meandered through the English Garden, Munich's Central Park.
     We stopped by the fourth Hard Rock Cafe of the trip in Munich, were amazed by our waiter who spoke a different language to each table, and turned in.

January 10th: Today's the day this adventure ends. Six cities, two countries (three if we count the Vatican), time with my dad, and four months more to go in Estonia before I'd see my family again. A bittersweet ending that definitely involved tears.
Off he goes, into the wild Passport Control yonder.