Travel Tip from Rome

For most, summer travel to Rome means a gelato-stained tick sheet of “must sees” a mile long.  My glossy travel guide claims you can see all the major highlights in four days, an ambitious proclamation for a city with ancient remains everywhere you step, over 900 churches and only two metro lines.

A long weekend and third trip to the Eternal City, sans children, means you can put the tick sheet down and (mostly) wing it.   Except if you are like me and you can’t help yourself from doing restaurant research.  If you’re going to commit to a pasta carbonara, you want to enjoy every calorie.  [I have recommendations on this front of course.]

Regardless of your chosen pace, the truth is that you will get caught up in the whirl of a big city like Rome.  You will never see it all or find the best place to have a pair of shoes made.  You will be completely overwhelmed – not just by the size of the city – but the history it holds.

So, my travel tip for whatever new place you travel to this summer.  Find an hour on your busy itinerary where you can escape to a quiet corner of the city and just sit.  I found my spot at the SS Apostoli Church, a second tier tourist attraction not heavily circled on any map.  First time we passed there was a mass going on.  Second time there was a long line of people waiting to take a picture of the apostle James and Phillips tombs, a ridiculous photo really given that you are in a dark crypt.  Third time, it was early Monday morning and there were only two of us in the church.  Complete silence for 30 minutes. 

The travel writer Pico Iyer says, “The point of gathering stillness is not to enrich the sanctuary or the mountaintop, but to bring that calm into the motion, the commotion of the world.  [In stillness], a huge heaviness fell away from me, and the lens cap came off my eyes.”

I recommend you add that to your “must see” list.

---

Some Recommendations

Three dinners, three winners.  Armondo’s Al Pantheon, a well-known, family run at moderately priced traditional Roman trattoria, adjacent but not on the square near the Pantheon with excellent food and a kitchen staff all over the age of 50.  Recommend view of the kitchen for anyone with an Italian grandfather.  Giulio Passami l’olio, a moderately priced, casual but hip (late arriving bridal shower party confirmed) Mediterranean kitchen with a long wine list and helpful sommelier 600 meters from Piazza Navona recommended to us by a Roman friend of a friend.   Antico Arco, an upscale modern Italian restaurant in Monteverde (taxi required) with a twist on Roman classic dishes and attentive service.   For a glass of wine, research told us to check out Mime e Coco on busy Via del Governo Vecchio but we preferred the lively local vibe of Il Bar del Fico near Piazza Navona and the more quiet but comfortable, Kindle-friendly Etabli.    

No need to put the Pantheon on your tick sheet.  You will pass by it multiple times during your stay and at first you will wonder, “How on earth did they build that 2000 years ago?” then you will start to wander the streets around it for shopping.  Rome is all about leather, cashmere, shoes and other things to drain your travel budget.  There is good shopping for all these things around the Pantheon including Cosimo Colonna where you can dress your man in Euro duds without gasping at price tags or committing to a summer scarf if you don’t want to.  You should however make him get a pair of colorful Gallo socks.  When in Rome … black socks will not do.

The most enjoyable shopping however was in the Monti neighborhood which is behind Piazza Venezia and the Colosseum.  Via del Boschetto and Via Urbana are lined with designer shops of Italian made goods and vintage shops in a range of price points.   The most fun was being there on the weekend for the MercadoMonti, an indoor urban market we read about in the NY Times March 2015 “36 Hours in Rome.”  With about two dozen young designers selling their handcrafts, my Euro dude was able to pick up a snazzy jacket for under 100 euros.

So, Berlin

One of the great things about writing a personal blog is you have no deadlines.  One of the bad things about writing a personal blog is with enough procrastination you have no one to blame but yourself when you can’t remember the details of that thing you planned to write.  This is especially dangerous when trying to write travel advice with fuzzy details.

 So, Berlin. 

I had to check my calendar to remember exactly when I was there.  It was “this” month (refusing to believe to today is in fact May 1) so the statute of limited memory should allow for more or less accurate recall.  I was also there for a 3 day weekend - with a nasty head cold – back in September 2014.  Congested or breathing normally, the first trip was love at first sneeze so I decided to return “this” month for Spring Break solo with just the two little boys.  (The big boy with the map skills was with his Dad on the East Coast doing college visits which is hard for all of us – more accurately 4/5 of us – to believe.)

I don’t know if it’s the Seattle girl in me or my low threshold for Bavarian food overload, but Berlin wins for best German city in my book.  And I really, really like Munich.  (See my post on Munich.)  Berlin lacks the beauty of Munich but there is an energy about the rapidly changing city that you don’t have to be 21 years old to enjoy.  You are constantly surprised by the amount of cool tucked behind ugly exteriors.  And the city takes their coffee very, very seriously. 

[The two found favorite coffee spots in Berlin were The Barn and Bonanza Coffee Roasters.  Lucky for me, Bonanza was 50 feet from where we stayed and their flat whites were just about perfect.]

So how’d I do?  Totally nailed it.  Beyond being expertly caffeinated, here are a few tips for doing Berlin.

Tip 1: build confidence early by skipping public transportation on arrival and taxi to hotel.  Never mind the cost or the glory of saying you caught the Airport Express to the U-Bahn followed by a 10 minute walk with luggage.  No one will be greeting you at the hotel with a medal for it at 9:30am.   And when you find out the cab fare is only 22 euros, you’ll wonder how big a tip is too big before the taxi driver asks for your number.

[We stayed in a very reasonably priced apartment hotel called Brilliant Apartments in Prenzlauer Berg on what may be one of the best gentrified streets in the neighborhood.   It was a brilliant choice for what we needed never mind what my boys say about the wifi strength and the assaulting water pressure.   The apartment is in the former East Berlin so modernity expectations should be appropriately checked.   I wrote a review of it here if you are in the hunt for lodging while in Berlin.]

Tip 2: pick a hotel next to a great café with pancakes in the AM and wine in the PM.  They don’t have to be good pancakes.  The pancakes will be the siren call you need to wake your kids for a 7am flight.  Be aware however that Europe is a place that loves bookings so even though you wouldn’t expect to need a booking for a weekend breakfast, build confidence and fill stomachs early by making one.  We got the last non-reserved table.  It was my day.

[Café Krone is the café affiliated with Brilliant Apartments.    As of today there are 6,279 restaurants in Berlin on Trip Advisor.  Café Krone is #13.  You will like it.  They have carrot cake.]

Tip 3: strategically select your neighborhood.   Berlin doesn’t really have a center and it’s massively spread out so it takes some planning (or a bike, see below) to pick the area you want to explore.  Mitte and Prenzlauer Berg are both popular, creative chic places for great eating and shopping and pervasive use of English.  Kreuzberg is gentrifying but more “edgy” and home to the live music scene.  If you want evidence there are actual children in Berlin, Suedstern is a cute family-friendly neighborhood.

[We stayed at the Casa Camper Berlin in Mitte last fall when it was only my husband and I.  It was a great location for a first visit to Berlin and the hotel was that perfect blend of down-to-earth but cool in a way that doesn’t require mood lighting and fruited water.  Unfortunately for my snotty nose, the toilet paper – as in the rest of Europe – was not up to USA standards.]

 Tip 4: pack biking shorts or your best biking dress.   Everyone knows Amsterdam as a biking city, but that’s really for the locals who know the rules.  Berlin (and Copenhagen) are better biking cities where you have a chance to blend in as a tourist and not be run over.   There are extensive bike lanes and few to zero hills to remind you that you aren’t in shape.  Also, finding a bike rental or guided bike tour in Berlin is as easy as finding a Starbucks in London.  Maybe even similarly priced.

 [On the first trip, we rented bikes from the hotel.  It was a fantastic way to see the city and also means you can more easily ride through the Tiergarten in route to visit Tempelhof Park – a “park” on the site of an old airfield.  There is something about seeing those wide empty runways that kick starts your brain.  And if you are lucky enough you might see men rollerblading in speedos in not warm September.   Now THAT I remembered.]

[On the second trip, we dared not speak of bikes.  We are having ongoing issues convincing our 8 year old that he will EVER learn to ride a bike.   This makes biking an uphill, downhill, and standstill battle with untied shoelaces.  This is the child who will flail his body into the air to save a goal but who fears any *potential* encounter with pavement.  Suggestions welcome.]

Tip 5:  mix in a little fun with all the history.  The history of Berlin is obviously something you can’t miss, but it’s also somber and best absorbed in doses.  There is a surprisingly number of alternative non-history related things to see and do in Berlin.

[You will no doubt go to see the Berlin Wall Memorial – an outdoor museum that is kid/pet/germ phobic friendly.   There is no better way to understand the barrier that divided a city than by traversing the ground where it was.  The signage along a long stretch of the wall on Bernauer Strasse is excellently done.  I wish I could say the same for Checkpoint Charlie.   The only bright spot around the Checkpoint Charlie circus is the Asisi Panometer, an admission-charged impactful panorama exhibit of a part of the Berlin Wall with lights and sound as well as a collective of photographs from the period of the Wall and before its fall in 1989.  Better yet is the The DDR Museum, a free interactive museum that shows what life was like in the first Socialist state in Germany.  An absolute must do.  Also on that must do list, but without young children, is the Topography of Terror – another free museum that shows an unforgiving look at the terror and persecution perpetrated by the Nazi institutions of the Gestapo, SS and Reich Security Main Office.  When things start to get too heavy, head over to the Game Science Center (also near Checkpoint Charlie) - a totally fun, small space with 20 exhibits showcasing future interactive technologies.  Good for all ages and for hands that like to touch things.  The Berlin Zoo (for those not overly sensitive to animals in small cages) is an also nice change of pace.]

Tip 6:  Prep the kids for grittiness.  As long as you know to expect open containers, abandoned buildings, and unmanicured parks – it won’t be a surprise when you bring a basketball to Mauerpark for the third day in a row and the court is littered with as many open beer bottles as people waiting to play.  (We did however have the court to ourselves plus one on the first cold morning.)

Tip 7: make a friend in the neighborhood.  Local suggestions from the right person within the right radius is one way to cut down on marathon walks to dinner.   

[Our friend was Sadie.  Sadie runs The Juicery in Prenzlauer Berg (PB), right across the street from Mauerpark, serving some of the tastiest super food smoothies & juices.  The boys were hooked and happy to follow Sadie’s suggestion by eating at two delicious restaurants on our street (Oderberger Strasse): the fancier Ky Sushi for Japanese/Korean and Vietnam Village for tasty eats with great outdoor seating.  PB is a great neighborhood for eating and several food blogs (the best of which was Berlin Food Stories) and careful reading of Trip Advisor rightly pointed us to: Maria Bonita for hole in the wall Mexican, The Bird for a ridiculously right on American burger, Fast Rabbit for vegan wraps and hard core rap, Kochu Karu for Korean/Spanish tapas – who knew?, and Pastificio Tosatti for homemade pasta for take-away or eat-in at two small tables.  Two places we wanted to try but ran out of time were Babel for Lebanese and Lecker Song for Chinese dumplings.]

Tip 8:  If you don’t know what you want to eat, head to Mitte.   It’s as central as you can get in Berlin and it has everything, including over 1,000 places to eat.   Auguststrasse is the street name to know and explore.

[Some good ones we enjoyed:  District Mot for Vietnamese street food (went there both trips), Cocolo Ramen for at-the-counter noodles, Mogg & Melzer Delicatessen – a modern deli in a former Jewish school with a fantastic rueben sandwich you’ll need help finishing, and Lokal for a high end, seasonal modern German dinner.  Lokal, recommended to me by my good Lux friend and fellow eater Angela, is definitely worth crossing town for.  Book ahead for sure.]

I asked my 8 year old what I should include about Berlin and he said:  “Tell them Berlin is cool.  The people have good English and most people are really nice and the zoo has animals you don’t see in every zoo and the Wall is cool and the Science Center is cool …

Like I said, cool. 

Milan

Part Italian and part cosmopolitan, Milan feels like a cross between Florence and Berlin.  It's also a city that requires some work to find it's underlying beauty, but it's there in spades as you venture out into the neighborhoods.  Milan is old meets new ...

We stayed at the Palazzo Segreti, an 18 room boutique hotel in the historic center near the  Duomo and the trendy Brera district and within easy walking distance from the train station.  A little pricey and best suited for couples, the prime location (though a bit noisy) and nice rooms made it worth the splurge. 

(NOTE: If you like boutique hotels, I highly recommend finding them on this website.  Palazzo Segreti was the fourth hotel I've stayed in on a recommendation from i-escape - the others in Berlin and Croatia - and all of them have been fantastic.   They also offer a range of prices and have very useful reviews.) 

The Duomo is the third largest church in the world after St Peter's and Seville Cathedral.  It's spectacular from the square, on the inside, but perhaps most especially from the rooftop.  It's well worth the 7 euros and 250 steps to climb to the top.

There's also shopping of course, much of it way too hip for us.  Bring your cutest clothes as you'll want to fit in.  You'll likely start your shopping at the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, a beautiful iron and glass shopping arcade near the Duomo and lined with expensive shops but we found shopping everywhere we went. 

There is a well-worn mosaic art of a bull in the center of the shopping center where people take turns spin their heels in three times for good luck.  There is also excellent people watching (and photographing.)

One of our favorite places was 10 Corso  Como - a  store, bookstore, cafe/restaurant, photography gallery tucked away in a courtyard.  The merchandise is high end but it's worth a stroll through and there's a wonderful rooftop deck to sit and relax.  Apparently they have an outlet too which we missed.  We did hit the DMagazine outlets which if you are a savvy high fashion shopper would be worth the hunt.

One of the highlights of the visit was being in Milan over Palm Sunday.   We happened on two churches just as services were ending which was a real treat.

First at the Basilica of Sant' Ambrogio ...

Then at the Basilica of San Lorenzo, a late 4th century church in the round.  I have a thing for churches in the round. 

Milan is gearing up to host the World Expo 2015, a world's fair with a food theme.  An event expected to bring around 20 million visitors between May 1 and Oct 31, we were happy to be in the city before the rush.  Evidence of the coming global trade fair was most obvious in the Porta Nuova business district. 

Sometimes you just hit it right.  We scored by being in Milan on the last Sunday of April which meant we got to enjoy strolling through the Naviglio Grande Antique Market.  A very cool part of town with bars and restaurants spilling onto a not so pretty canal on a day when you wish you had a truck.

Of course, we love eating.  If you like risotto, you'll really like eating in Milan.  We had some of the best risotto we've ever eaten including one with nettles.  We got some good recommendations before going.  Here's some places to share:

Pisacco: lunch or dinner.  Former chef of 2 Michelin Star restaurant (but not expensive.)  North Brera neighborhood.  Recommended by a friend of a friend from Milan.   The roasted vegetable starter with pickled rhubarb, romanesco broccoli and a smattering of other perfectly roasted vegetables was an inspiration.  Don't miss.

Taglio: lunch or dinner.  Modern, casual Italian with floor to ceiling open shelves.  Recommended in NY Times.  Great service, fun vibe, excellent food.

Obica: lunch.  Mozzarella Bar.  It's a chain restaurant but still above average for a tasty lunch and a must do if you crave the real mozzarella and didn't realize they were even mozzarella choices.  Recommended by a friend.

N'Ombra de Vin: an informal, destination wine bar in the Brera neighorhood.  Worth a stop before dinner.  Was packed before we left.

El Brellin:  dinner.  Popular in guide books. In Naviglio.   Very good but you'll be in tourist company. 

Carlo e Camillian: dinner.  We couldn't get reservation so book ahead.  Second restaurant of a chef who owns 2 Michelin Star restaurant Cracco.  Recommended by a friend of a friend from Milan.  

More of pretty Milan on this Good Friday.

Trading £s for Lbs: A London Restaurant Guide

There are lots of wonderful food cities in Europe but no other place has the variety of London.  You can eat anything your heart desires and it doesn’t take much frantic searching on Trip Advisor to find something decent. 

In one full week in London, we ate 12 different types of cuisine: Pakistani, Malaysian, Japanese, Lebanese, Thai, British, American, Italian, Indian, Spanish, Turkish, and Mexican. (I know my children have more adventure willing palettes than most kids.)

Given the abundance of good options and the size of the city, recommendations are best sorted by geography.  So if you find yourself in South Kensington (where we stayed) or Soho (where you will find yourself at some point in your trip) here are a few recommendations:

SOUTH KENSINGTON

Noor Jahan – upscale North Indian food (so more meat, less curries),  small with neighborhood vibe, apparently where Brad and Angelina eat when in London.   Lick your plate delicious.  An absolute favorite.  Booking required.

Patara – upscale Thai with non-traditional dishes, smaller portions but great flavors.  Another absolute favorite.  Three locations.  Booking required.

Carluccios – Italian diner, good spot for breakfast which they serve all day especially if you like fried eggs, pancetta and mushrooms.  Nice coloring packet for kids.  Several locations.

Comptoir Libanais – sit down communal table Lebanese,  great for lunch, mezze plates and excellent grill.  Several locations.

Fernandez & Wells –casual, order at the counter Spanish inspired breakfast with fried eggs, chorizo and cheese plate options plus excellent cakes, pastries, and coffee.   New next door is Roots & Bulbs for healthy smoothies.

Bosphorus Kebabs – excellent quality take out Turkish grill (no chips here!), very popular.  We did take out on Valentine’s Day since restaurants were packed.  One of the guys working pulled my husband aside and told him to buy me some flowers

Hereford Arms – great neighborhood gastro pub with comfy seating and screens for sport.

Also with several locations for a sweet fix is Gail’s Bakery and Hummingbird Cupcake (which I personally feel are overrated in taste but beautifully packaged.)

SOHO

Satori – authentic pizza from Napoli, recommended to us by a Londoner originally from Italy.   Large seating area, good for before a show,  very welcoming with kids.

Jackson + Rye – traditional American brunch,  higher end diner feel with good lookin’ brunch cocktails.   Solid food but not anything unexpected except for the outrageously delicious maple bacon slabs.   Booking required.

Honest Burgers – small place always with a queue, simple chalkboard menu of only a handful of burger options, rosemary chips, onion rings and bottled beers.  Worth the wait if a burger is on your mind.  Also tried the chain Gourmet Burger Kitchen which got the thumbs up as a less “healthy tasting” version to Honest Burgers but with the addition of shakes.  (Disclosure: after two years living outside of the US, our burger hurdle has come down.  We're just happy having ground beef that tastes normal.)

Frith Street and streets around it are full of restaurants.  Two recommendations from previous trips:  Ceviche – Peruvian seafood and Koya – Japanese Udon noodles.  Also nearby which were recommended to us but we ran out of time:  Barrafina – Spanish tapas and Yalla Yalla – Lebanese and middle-eastern street food.  (I'd probably do Ceviche and Barrafina without kids given limited seating.)

ELSEWHERE

Satay House (Paddington) – Malaysian, more than satays,  came recommended as best Malaysian from a London transplant, enjoyed with our Seattle friends based in Luxembourg and holidaying in London at the same time.  I don’t know Malaysian food, but this restaurant made fans out of all of us.  Booking required.

Zayna (Marble Arch) – upscale Pakistani, very good but I thought overpriced.  Also hit my pet peeve when waiter asked me to write a review on Trip Advisor.    Booking required.

Crosstown Donuts (Piccadilly) – daily made American style sourdough donuts, opened 9 months ago, first tried at Fernandez & Wells who carries them as does Whole Foods, first location at Piccadilly Circus Tube Station.  Less sweet than most American donuts and delicious.  Way better than the Hummingbird cupcakes.

Craig’s House in Crouch End – We got a special dinner in the home of one of my childhood friends (and as an Army brat, I don’t have many of those!) Julie and Craig were so sweet to host my four man-sized appetites after having just been on holiday themselves and after a full day’s work.  I can’t guarantee a reservation, but Craig’s couple day Pasta Bolognese sauce is worth crossing town for.  :)

If you find yourself in the East End around Shoreditch/Brick Lane/Spittalfields, I previously blogged about some things I sampled on an East End Food Tour .

Happy eating!

Latergrams and Photos of London

I started taking pictures because I was outnumbered. 

Life with boys is wonderful but when four minds start congregating around a football team’s line-up for the eighth time in 24 hours, it’s time for a lady’s getaway.  Behind the camera is a great place for estrogen to escape.  Plus, someone needs to document all these places we have been.

One of the things I love about photography is that in the right light even an amateur gets a couple of good ones.   Good equipment combined with sheer volume and great subject material has led me to more than a few keepers. The wild card now is getting those keepers moved into clouds and drives and scrapbooks and places of safety.  (Or so my administrator gently advises.)

A new thing I’m discovering about photography is that I sometimes catch a moment I don’t realize is a moment until later.  Like last night, I was reading Psalm 91:9-15:

“Because you have made the Lord your refuge, the Most High your dwelling-place, no evil shall befall you, no scourge come near your tent.  For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.  On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.  You will tread on the lion and the adder, the young lion and the serpent you will trample under foot.  Those who love me, I will deliver; I will protect those who know my name.  When they call to me, I will answer them; I will be with them in trouble, I will rescue them and honour them.”

As I read this, my mind jumped to this photo I snapped last week.  I didn’t think much of it when I took the photo or even viewed it later but I saw something else in it when I read this passage.  It visually connected me to God’s promise to cocoon us with angels when danger is below our feet.  That even though we see it’s a long way down and it causes us to tip-toe gingerly, we need not fear.  He's got us.

I still don’t know how much I really understand this Scripture, but I do think the latergram moved me an inch closer.  The opportunity to catch an unfolding moment for future absorption is as good a reason as any to be behind a camera. 

Here's some more photos from our trip to London.  Not all of them have a story (yet.)

Busy hands.

The Natural History Museum.

Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park.

London football.  (Colin, the Liverpool fan, checking out the Chelsea and Arsenal competition.)

Norwegian friends in London!

London sites.

London streets.

Boys.

A week's wrap up of dining out in London coming up in later post ...

Best of 2014

Another Christmas and New Years has passed without a Ballbach Christmas card.  <sigh>  Maybe next year.  In lieu of a letter, here's the best of 2014 posts. 

1. Best Travel Surprise.  Budapest.
2. Most Referenced.  Greece.
3. Most Talked About.  Teen drinking.
4. Best Pictorial.  Croatia and Copenhagen.
5. Best in Humor.  Getting a Luxembourg driver’s license.
6. Best in Sappy.  Dads and boys.
7. Best in Nonfiction.  Mean bus drivers and smart GPS.
8. Best in Travel Writing.  Munich.
9. Editor’s Pick.  London.
10. Blog of the Month.  A good story.

Wishing you reams of good stories in 2015. 

With love, Kate Brett Quinn Colin and Lawton

happy spotting, copenhagen

a post in pictures

Copenhagen is fabulous.  Between my friend Fiona and her Danish husband Rasmus, my expat friend Liesl in Amsterdam, and the local woman who's apartment we rented in Norrebro (stay there!), we had great guidance and lists for places to see and eat.  It's a city with a lot of happy, so rather than tell you about it -- here's some photos that try to capture it.

uh la la

Meyers Bageri Jægersborggade

fairy tale welcome

runaway vegetables

urban playground

talking it out

hawaiiiii

cycling mailman

a view with a smile

birds eye view

safe view

Castle

penguining

driverless metro

snow marching

hang loose

knight in shining armor

legoing

slippery stairway to heaven

merrymaking and sledassisting

all together now

orangesicle and the opera house

take out, part 1

take out, part 2

white out

kid friendly capital of the world

my kid

round and round we go

fishing around

fog

mistletoe

legoing, part 2

thinking

brunching

being danish

public transporting

happy wall

happy meal

happy ending?

holding hands

holding my heart

PDG (public displays of goofing) in kbh

ducky

people watching

mo' modern

bouncing

sea otter puzzling

art

sun setting

celebrating

Munich Encounters

A First Date with Spaten

Ravenous from a 5 ½ hour drive from Luxembourg, food was the first order of business upon arriving in Munich early afternoon.  Though a Hofbrauhaus would do, some of us wanted better which sent us on a trek for Spatenhaus –  a well-known brewery with above average food overlooking the Opera House.  Mingling with locals in their Sunday finest, we scored a prime table in a private nook provided we could finish in 90 minutes.  AS IF that would be a problem with this American crew of boy.  We devoured plates of typical Bavarian food:  goulash, spaetzle, wiener schnitzel, and cucumber salad washed down with an-always-the-right-time pint of the restaurant’s own beer, Spaten-Franziskaner-Bier and a budding notion that we very much liked Munich.

The Arrival of Krampus

Some people are lucky enough to win the lottery and some people land at the right place at the right time even when they have no idea what to make of it.  On our first night, we walked into Munich’s main Christkindlmarkt  just as a herd of costumed beasts – with polices escorts and a mob of camera carrying followers - came charging in our direction.  Adorned in stinky animal hide and carrying a switch, one of the masked beasts gently patted my youngest on the head as he blazed past and the crowd swell continued down market.   Too fast and too weird to make a lasting impression, we drowned our bewilderment in 150g of warm candied almonds.  Later that night, thanks to a serendipitous NY Times article, the mystery of the old and recently revived Bavarian tradition of Krampus (the anti- St. Nicolas) was solved.  The devilish goblins with masked costumes made exclusively from materials and animal hides in the Alps (hence the stink) only show up at the Christkindlmarkts on the second and third Sundays before Christmas.  Lottery-like timing.  [No photos of Krampus were snapped in time.]

From Mine to Massage

We began our experience of the world of science and technology in a fantastic, not-as-claustrophobic-as-feared replica Mine in the basement of the Deutsches Museum, the world’s largest science museum.  From there we barely skimmed the surface of 50 (!) exhibits covering 50,000 square meters in four hours.  One of the children rightly surmised that we’d be wicked smart if could live there.  Landing on the top floor unable to process another scientific fact, we dropped a 2 euro coin in a Motel 6 style massage chair and divvied up the ten minutes between us.  As far as we can tell, no new brain cells resulted from the massage.

Typically Munich

Inspired by the Deutsches Museum, we rolled the dice for a second museum the next day –  the Munich City Museum (Munich Stadtmuseum.)   We toured the “Typically Munich” permanent exhibit, a cultural history of Munich from the beginnings of the city to the present – understood best by those already living in Munich, who unfortunately weren’t there to offer us any explanation of what we were seeing.  Disjointed and not very interesting, we redirected to the National Socialism Exhibit which was better.  Either the excellent City Museum in Amsterdam has ruined us with unrealistic expectations or the much too quiet museum told us that we weren’t all together wrong.

A Trio of Party Santas

Nothing says Christmas spirit like a chorus singing carols from the balcony the Neues Rathaus high above a gazillion wooden stalls selling Christmas wares and crepes with Nutella.    Zigzagging through crowds of people balancing two gluhweins and a kinder punch, I came upon my waiting children just as a trio of party Santas were passing.   More interested in Santa than kinder punch, my youngest shouted Santa’s name.  Clearly in a hurry to a Christmas kid-free bash but obliged by their chosen attire, they stopped, straightened their beards, and offered the young lad a photo.   [One Santa not photoed.]      

Meeting up with Americans

On the U-Bahn (the old but superefficient, not oversubscribed subway) five stops north of Marienplatz, Munich’s central square, given away by voices that carry a youngish retired couple in tennis shoes inquires, “So where in the US are you from?”  Without wanting to overcomplicate, we answer “Seattle, and you?”  “Illinois. Joliet.” “Oh,” we politely respond, “We went to school in Illinois.  Wheaton.”  “Sure.  Wheaton.  We know it.”  Not knowing where to go from there, they quicken their pace and we follow in silence, until they peel off for the Marriot and us for the Melia.

Outdoor Livin’

If ever you wondered how Germans are able to walk in any weather condition, happen upon a German Outdoor Store and be ready to have choice overload and a keyed up husband.   Choosing a down jacket in Germany is like choosing a college in the US.  Way too many options for anyone without a plan or decisive wife.  Except of course when you ask for a snow boot in men, size 14.  Then you have two choices.  Both in black.  (For non sports shopping,  check out Reichenbachstrasse near the Deutsches Museum for some great boutiques.)

Bah Humbug

On a crowded sidewalk in the center of Munich four days before Christmas, as can happen on forced Christmas shopping marches, a brotherly spat broke out.  A fist or two might have been involved.  Obvious immediate parental action was taken diffusing any further altercation while a well-dressed German Grandma - not even in the fray – took it upon herself to shout her angriest German at my already scolded children.  Too bad she wasn’t looking 50 meters later when brotherly love broke out.  [Photo not available.]

German Surfers & Burritos

Sausaged out by the month of December, we bee lined to the neighborhood of Maxvorstadt for lunch at a place called Burrito Company.  With a  total California vibe down to the ordering system,  hot sauce in brown bags on the table, recycling bins, avocados for sale and surfboard in the corner we learned the place was opened by a couple of Germans who spent a few years surfing in California.  They then came back to Munich with an idea to spread burrito goodness.   It worked.

Score!

We made it out to the Allianz Arena for the last tour on the last day before the holiday.  The last English tour was hours before so we settled for the German version, figuring that Football was universal and Dad and Colin’s limited bi/tri-lingualism might suffice.  Dad’s German skills were enough to react to the “I assume everyone here speaks German” that afforded us a bonus, condensed English version at the end of each section of the tour.  We saw the team shower rooms, the tunnel to the field, and learned lots of fun facts about Bayern Munich (team of Lawton's goalie hero.)  We even scored 45 minutes before the start of the tour in an excellent, modern, and interactive team museum.  The boys were in football heaven.

Old Traditions in New Places

Our holiday tradition in Seattle is to go to the Pike's Place Market every Christmas Eve morning with our extended family to hunt and gather for the evening's meal.   We brought that tradition to Munich by doing a similar thing in a fabulous outdoor and indoor market (Schrannenhalle) before driving back to Luxembourg loaded down with goodies for Christmas Eve.   If only we could have transported the extended family. 

A Concert, London, and Travel

I came to London to see a concert. If it sounds a touch extravagant or like a middle-aged reach for a missed groupie youth, you wouldn't be entirely wrong. My husband however was already going to be in London for work - lodging solved! – and among other things, age has a way of drawing out one’s desire to make more effort to rally around passionate people, especially those who have done the work of their craft. I know nothing about music really but I'm getting better at recognizing the scent of authenticity in whatever form it comes by.  Having seen the Brooklyn-born, now Seattle-based Augustines leave a part of themselves in Heidelberg this spring, something told me the trek to London for their last show of their current European tour would be worth the investment.  It was.

My favorite part of the concert was the encore when the band came out to the middle of the crowd to perform a couple songs unplugged.  Made possible by the iconic and intimate venue of London's Roundhouse, it wasn't just a "let's change up the set" decision but a reflection of the band's relationship with their fans - even though the choice further exposed what little voice singer Billy had left after weeks of pummeling.  A woman pastor I heard on a podcast recently talked about how their church is set up in the round as an intention of sharing in the accountability of presence. These guys were the doing the same thing - giving of their grief and longing and joy and then receiving it back as a sort of collective offering.  In that way, we were treated not just to a memorable show but also gifted a two hour hall pass from whatever ailed us when we walked in.

Grade A experiences have this way of giving you temporary water wings that carry you into the next day. My next day was still in London, on my own, until the meet up with my husband for dinner.  Though aching for the American pancakes staring back at me from the hotel breakfast menu, I made a last minute commitment to the veggie works filling me with enough omega3 to power past any temptation to cede my walking agenda to the Underground.  Credit:  water wings.  Normally in the morning company of global news where missives of despair come flying off the page, I am easy target.  However in my buoyed and now nourished state, nothing landed dangerously.

With ear buds in for a second encore, I set out for a long unhurried walk to a photography exhibit at the National Portrait Gallery.  I could have chosen a hundred different destinations in London, but somehow returning to place I’d once been and enjoyed seemed like as good as any way to spend the day.  Engrossed in my playlist and not trusting myself to look the wrong way, I fastidiously obeyed pedestrian signals or stuck close to the shoulder of trailblazers in the know.   

Indeed there are lots of suits and the best looking prams money can buy, but London is a place where everything goes and everyone is welcome, if not for reals at least at first blush.  English language schools round many neighborhood corners and coupling norms are as unexpected as a young Arab hipster offering to share his table with you.  (I said “yes, thanks!”) While the common urban denominator may be scarves, the rest is an opportunity to see the world in six city blocks. 

The day was cold in a way the weather report misrepresented, wind causing chill beneath layers of thoughtful preparation.  After a while, I joined the chorus of people taking cover in coffee shops and tea salons for a mid-morning shot of warmth.  Behind the glass case of my chosen pit stop, gingerbread men squatted on pillows of whipped frosting and cinnamon buns swirled freely in pronouncement of their hand crafted care.  Not obliged to order my joe to go, I marked the moment by cracking open (what’s the Kindle word for that?) a new book and eavesdropping on conversations I could finally understand.  It was lovely and totally unrevealing.

Back on the street, I slackened whatever pace I had to follow herds of people on side streets (most, I learned, on their way to an office building not a secret sample sale) or catch slices of sunlight breaking through (causing an erratic number of street crossings.)   Like a cyclist obliged “Do Not Overtake Buses,” I had not overtaken a single soul who set out for the National Portrait Gallery at roughly the same time I did.  This was meandering at its finest.   Although even with my head partway in the clouds and partway in people watching mode, marketing muscle made it impossible for me to ignore:  “Night of the Museum 3” will be in theatres soon.

Finally ducking in to the exhibit, I was treated to sixty portraits selected from over 4,000 submissions by a wide range of contemporary photographers.   As remarkable photos can, these portraits revealed not just an interesting face but a flash of a life story.   In the permanent collection, one particular amplified oil on canvas caught my attention as I noticed the subject and I shared birth years.  Like me, her face was at the beginning of new groves but her gaze was confident and her teeth excellent.  She also happened to be an Olympic sprinter, a stitch of reassurance that no amount of training can stem the tide of growing older.

Building on the healthy start to the day, I stopped in Soho for a Peruvian lunch of ceviche and causa (cold potato cakes.)  I made conversation with the affable waiter from my counter stool resulting in the purchase of signed copy of their best-selling Peruvian cookbook and shamelessly listened in on an interesting conversation among three young Americans who’d come to London for acting school. 

Revived by the late lunch, I turned my attention toward a little must do Christmas shopping along the circus that is Oxford Street.  Nothing pops you out of your good cheer like a futile search of a soccer kit (Liverpool) not endorsed (hated) in these boroughs.  Draining faster than a phone battery working overtime on maps and music, I did manage a minor success at the Nike Store and a few others.  With the morning marvelousness of humans dimming in a late afternoon queue for the loo and the consumption chatter that all of a sudden surrounds you like an unwanted red bow, I soon veered off in search of a pump for my deflating wings. 

Meeting up for a before dinner drink near my husband’s office, my spirit inflated with a taste of home in a bottled Sierra Nevada Pale Ale and in the company of my most cherished.   From a Peruvian lunch to a Pakistani dinner we hustled across town to Whitechapel to make our 9pm booking. 

Arriving at the largest, most chaotic queue I’ve ever seen at a restaurant – on a Tuesday night no less – I was glad for the reinforcement.  Not yet with the benefit of having tasted the ridiculously good food or seen the ridiculously low 24 pound tab, it was good humor – not necessarily a booking – you needed to secure a seat.  Whatever the case, it quickly became clear we were once again rallying around passionate people working incredibly hard and turning out naan faster than a prolific tweeter .  Once seated we couldn’t help but notice that even in the sea of hungry diners, several of the wait staff had this practice of gently tapping my husband on the shoulder to make sure everything was ok.  It most definitely was.

Travel is wonderful, and should you need any specific details on the above – ping me – but there is another kind of travel that comes in the wake of another soul’s exuberance for life.  Go there.

Croatia, Croatia, Croatia

I’ve been hearing about Croatia for years with a steep escalation once we moved to Europe.   The Greek Islands however have stolen my summer heart and without a sailboat we kept putting Croatia off.  Enticed by the promise of warmish weather, we finally decided to visit Croatia in the off season.  Instead of swimming suits we packed our hiking boots for nine days in October.

Croatia has 1100 miles of coastline and as many islands (the legend is that God cried on bare rocks where his tears turned into islands) and so the project of figuring out “How to do Croatia” was a bit like a plodding jog after an undigested lunch.   The travel guides are helpful until the moment that you have compiled two dozen places you want to see and then realize that half of them require ferries – which logically won’t be running in October.  This meant crossing the Southern Dalmatian islands of Vis, Brac and Korcula off our list.  (Glamorous Hvar was already o$$ our list.)

Our best and cheapest flight option was into Zadar and so that became our jumping off point for a driving tour down the Dalmatian Coast.  (Northern Zagreb, on many Best of Europe lists, was also crossed off to make way for a southward journey.)  Always the optimist (and never the driver), I booked our first place on the island of Pag which was conveniently connected to the mainland by a bridge but a not-so-convenient 1 hour 40 minute drive from the airport.  [Take note:  Car renting in Croatia is not at all like car renting in the USA.   In and out efficiency is not their sweet spot.   If you lean towards beating someone to a spot in line, this is absolutely the time to engage those quick twitch muscles.]  

Like a lonely swing set on the edge of nowhere (especially in the dark) is perhaps the first impression you might have of the long, skinny island of Pag with its moonscape, rocky terrain.  The second impression is sheep.  Pag is home to around 8,000 people and three times as many sheep.  If you miss your first photo of sheep, be assured – you’ll be grazed with another.  Roaming the slopes in search of edible herbs like sage, Pag is home to famous Paskisir sheep cheese that is every bit as delicious and earthy as their diet would suggest.   

When you travel off season rates are obviously better which means you might be able to book a place one star higher than you would during peak season.   That advantage allowed us to stay at HOTEL BOŠKINAC, an 11 room family run hotel with gourmet restaurant & winery in a beautiful peaceful setting among vineyards and olive trees.  I’d like to take credit for finding such a gem, but Anthony Bourdain found it first and his word has a way of traveling the blogosphere.  He was also right.  It’s an awesome self-contained place (important when traveling to an area where much has already closed for the year) with wonderful but unfussy service, huge, nicely oriented rooms, a wedding-worthy terrace, and indeed tasty food (octopus carpaccio, roasted lamb, risotto with shrimps, squid and potatoes ) and wine. 

We were Hotel Boskinac’s very last guests of the season though not the loudest.  Credit that to the local dinner guests the night we arrived who were celebrating a 60something birthday party with two guitars and a whole table singing traditional Dalmation music long into the evening.  Not only was the music lovely, but there was something about watching an older group of Croatians who had likely been around for the conflict only thirty years prior and now living in a tourist boom sing every word to every song with an intensity that was mesmerizing.  My family’s sweet Happy Birthday serenade the following evening was meek by comparison but loud enough to wake the kitchen into a special dessert. 

People come to Pag to party.  Often called the Croatian Ibiza, most of the partying radiates around one of the three main beaches near the non-descript town of Novalja.  Even without the crowds (not a soul in fact), it was easy to imagine that the “scene” is more of a draw than the “scenery” as the beaches are relatively small and pebbled.  Call me a snob but I like my beaches with sand and minus the floating party dock.  But, then again, we were here to hike and hike we did.

Hike #1:  The Super Windy Hike

October is the month of bora winds which blow down from the mountains along the eastern Adriatic.   The gusty winds keep fisherman grounded (hence the dinners of squid and octopus which are the only fish that they freeze) and *may* have caused me to bark a few too many inaudible commands to stay away from the edge.  Our first hike was on Metajna, a rocky stone outcropping on the east of the island.  The roughly 3.5 mile rugged coastline hike takes you along four distinct sections:  a long rocky beach, a moonscape rock scramble on a point, a pine forest with small beaches, and a narrow walkway along a rock cliff that ends in a small village.  It’s not a groomed hike with trail signs.  Great for rock climbers. Even great in wind. 

Hike #2:  The “When Can We … Go Skinny Dipping?” Hike

Never suggest the remote possibility of skinny dipping before a hike begins.   It impedes leisurely progress.  Our second hike was on a botanical reserve of olive trees on the northern tip of the island called Lun.  Developed into a reserve by the UN in 2013, the Lun Olive Garden has more than 80,000 olive trees including the oldest olive tree at 1,600 years old.  A 7 km trail runs through the garden – part of which is along coast with great places to picnic and an interior part with some elevation and great views – with a surreal mix of rocky undergrowth, dense groves, and sheep crisscrossing through dry stone wall pens.  It’s absolutely stunning.  On both hikes, we never saw another person.  Had the water temperature been more agreeable (and the begging less relentless), it could have been ideal for skinny dipping.

One of the highlights from our time on Pag was touring and tasting at the Sirana Gligora dairy to see how the Paskisir sheep cheese was made.   Naturally this called for a hazmat suit.  Like so many things during shoulder season with the hives of tourists gone, it ended up being a private tour which meant that we didn’t have to conserve our questions.  At the start of the tour the guide asked Lawton, “Where does milk come from?” to which Lawton replied, “Mom.”  Clearly, we needed the tour and the full airspace for questions.

From the island of Pag we drove down the Dalmation Coast to Croatia’s second largest city, Split.  Instead of the motorway, we took a slower route that hugged the coast which was well worth the time investment.  Packing a picnic lunch is always advised when taking the scenic route.   We’d been advised to stopover in Sibenik on the way down for a few hours but got seriously lost on a tangle of steep streets that seemed to be going everywhere but the medieval centre and sucking all collective will from the car. 

We carried on to Split where we booked an apartment at Divota Apartment Hotel – a scattering of restored stone houses in the center of old town Split near the harbor.  The location could absolutely not be better.  They have apartment configurations for all sizes and budgets and they are wonderfully managed properties.  (We stayed in House 800.)  Highly, highly recommend.

As the second largest city, Split is obviously a year round place that doesn’t shut down for the season.  There is a pride among people from Split as well as a disproportionate number of Olympic athletes.  With its cobblestoned old town and great seafront promenade, like Budapest did, Split was lively and fun and exceeded our expectations.  We did some of the recommended site seeing, challenged ourselves to find above average food (Konoba Marjan, Villa Spiza, Uje Oil Bar, Wine& Cheese Bar Paradox, and Restaurant Dvor were all solid triples) and of course hiked. 

Hike #3:  The Urban Hike in Cute Shoes

A favorite hike you must do in Split is climb Marjan Hill which is located on the city’s peninsula with the city to one side and the sea on the other.  A longer and steeper climb with footpaths most but not all the way, it is advised to ditch the cute shoes in favor of running shoes.  Ballbach shoes that weren’t mine were also found running up Marjan Hill several mornings.

Hike #4:  The Unfortunate Hike to Dinner

Some walks turn into hikes when maps don’t help you anticipate walking the long way around bodies of water in the dark.  Those are never fun on an empty stomach and 15 minutes past your reservation.  Then again, who needs reservations in the off season except the one time you don’t.  So if you want to have dinner at Restaurant Dvor, call a cab and if you want to get a table at Tavern Matejuska, make a reservation.  Thankfully before dinner that night, we finally got our swim in (though with suits on.)

Leaving Split in route to Zadar for one night before our flight home, the plan was to drive into Bosnia-Hercegovina to add another country to the kids expanding list and then either make a second attempt in Sibenik or head for a final hike in Krka National Park.  The Bosnia plan was thwarted when we drove out of our way deep into the hills to a lonely border crossing only to be inexplicably sent away in gruff Croatian (USA citizens don’t need visas and so our passports should have been enough.)  Watching the next car pass through the border in our rear view mirror, our only conclusion was that maybe we needed to pay a bribe.  Honestly, I was a bit relieved as there was something eerie being in a place so desolate and disquieting to read constant reminders about care when walking off trail due to mines left from the Balkan War. 

Hike #5:  The There Could be Snakes Hike

After that, we opted for Krka National Park which was totally the right choice.  Visited by almost 750,000 people a year, the cascading waterfalls of Krka National Park are not to be missed.  You enter the park by car, park and then hike along elevated foot paths.  At the beginning of the hike, you will see signage of the types of flora and fauna found in the habitat and there WILL be pictures of snakes.  This was deeply troubling to some members of our family who shall remain nameless.  Like the eternity of a spiritless basketball game that only turns on in the last two minutes of the game is a hike with someone you love with a phobia who finally releases the death grip in the last hundred meters.

Hike #6:  The Itty Bitty Hike

Zadar is tiny and sleepy and aside from the The Sea Organ and Greeting to the Sun light tiles is an overnight kind of place.  Then again, maybe we were just tired.