Prague

Ahhh, the homeland. For those of you who don’t know (which I’m assuming is a majority), I am 37.5% Czech. When I texted my dad that we had arrived he said to tell our family we all said hello. Here’s, the thing, no one really knows anything about what little extended family we have still in the motherland. In my head I had an image of myself wandering around the streets of Prague yelling, “HELLO! ANY MACHAS AROUND HERE?”. That made me chuckle.

On our first evening there we wandered to Charles Bridge and found a restaurant that John, Laura’s second cousin who lives in Prague, recommended to us. I don’t remember it’s Czech name, but I know the English translation is Clear Head. It was a vegetarian place, which concerned me at first, but when we ordered, it did not disappoint. We shared the best hummus I have ever had. For my entree, I requested the age old, traditional Czech dish, a cheese quesadilla. Laura and I both ordered some coffee and split a small dessert-we needed the energy to make the mile and a half walk back to our Airbnb.

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If it hasn’t already become apparent, I am a coffee person. Laura and I don’t really share words in the morning until we each have had our respective cups. This morning, we stumbled upon One Sip Coffee, and it became my favorite. We chatted a bit with the barista who made intricate designs in our lattes.

From there, we, shockingly, wandered to Old Town to see the Astronomical Clock Tower and again, it appeared we were up before half of the city. We meandered our way back down to the riverfront and found the detour that passed through the Jewish Cemetery and Synagogue district. You could see the history and hurt from World War II and prior in the cracks and moss that covered the area. There is a rumor that Hitler believed Prague was too beautiful of a city to bomb, but the city, particularly its Jewish population still experienced the war in every other facet. 

The bridge next to The Charles Bridge tended to be most convenient for us, so we crossed it and headed up towards what we figured was the most efficient route to the castle. Not only were we wrong, but we got side tracked by a beautiful garden and building that we guessed was Senate or Parliament based on the Czech words outside that looked like Senate and Parliament. After cross checking with John, we really have no idea what the immaculately manicured garden's purpose was. 

Then we began our real trek up the hill. We climbed step after step after step and eventually realized we were, of course, not heading up the steps that would get us to where we wanted to go. Whoops. After retracing our steps and finding the correct (none the less daunting) staircase, we plodded up and up to one of the most spectacular views of the city. 

At the top of the hill we wandered past hoards and hoards of tour groups and tourists, past the changing of some guards or something official like that and finally got to the castle. The line was horrendous and we were to meet John in an hour or so so we marveled at the castle's exterior. Let me show you how spectacular it is.

When it was time to meet up with John, we received a message from him that his partner, Honza, may have ruptured his appendix.  We obviously reiterated to him that showing us around the city was not a priority, but he ended up joining us a few hours later and reassured us the hospital said it was just kidney stones and sent Honza home. 

It was a lot of fun to interact for a long period of time with someone other than Laura or Timo. Not that I could ever get sick of Laura, but ya know, John just mixed things up. He showed us how to use public transit and even had an extra ticket for the two of us. We went back to the top of the city (this time via tram... much more efficient) and wandered around there for a time. Then went back down through this gorgeous park and John's favorite coffee shop back in Old Town. It was the hottest day of the summer and Laura's and my shoulders fried in the sun. We were revitalized by the most refreshing tea (and I had some more coffee thinking we still had to walk home). The three of us got vietnamese take out and John gave us clear instructions and another set of tram tickets before we parted ways. Laura and I  welcomed such a relaxing end to a busy day.

Overall, our day in Prague was packed and we didn't even really plan anything. We were surrounded by constant beauty and compelling architecture that  we didn't realize how far we walked- over 14 miles according to Laura's Apple Watch. Hopefully that made up for the pastries and the burger and the coffees and the pho.

Munich

An extra day in Munich was a great idea (thank you, Laura). Maybe it's because we are in our third city, but this all feels a lot more natural and authentic. Scratch that, we're still obviously foreign, but in this city, we have ourselves a German tour guide. 

Meet Timo. He is street smart, sarcastic and most importantly, very German. He and Laura worked at the same wildlife preservation facility in Namibia (I have the coolest friends). Anywho, he met us at the train station and has since been our snarky and quick-witted translator and guide. As much as it pains me to say it, we will miss him we when leave. Hopefully, he never reads this as our current rapport is endless teasing and witty banter.

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The following morning, we got, big surprise here, lattes and scones, at an Italian bakery on the corner. It seems to be pretty common here, but I am always taken aback when I am given a hot drink in a normal glass. Maybe someday I'll adjust. I said thank you and good day in Italian and was slightly impressed with myself before I realized how simple those two sentiments are. Oh well, I have two months of Italian on the way-I won't let this discourage me. 

Our second stop of the day was the German Museum. I don't think I have ever been anywhere quite like it. There were old ships and planes and gears and even a mining exhibit underground. Most exhibits had excerpts of English translations, except of course, the science sector of the museum. We joked that the Germans who created the exhibits about physics and energy figured the concepts would be way over any English speaker's head so there was no need to bother with giving them information only to make their brain hurt. 

Next we were off to The Glockenspiel and Hofbräuhaus because we are tourists and that is our idea of an authentic German experience. None the less, both places were worth the walk. The Glockenspiel was huge and historic and there were far too many people around it for us to truly enjoy it, but hey, it happens. The same is true for Hofbräuhaus, but the food justified every ounce of predictability. I had a radler (half beer, half lemonade) and the three of us split three meals, a sausage plate, schnitzel and some traditional pork and potatoes dish. I was pleasantly surprised and very full by the end of the meal. 

After some time back at our flat (not going to lie, I feel really cool calling it that) to recoup from the sunshine and walking, we set back out, radlers in hand after stopping at a kiosk. We headed towards the river. We laid out our towels and relaxed about 5 feet from the water while Timo cracked open our beers. There are no open container laws in Germany, and let me tell ya, the people take advantage of that. It is not an uncommon thing to be walking down the street around noon and pass by some folks with open glass bottles. Anyway, the three of us drank our beers, Laura and I read our books, and Timo befriended Felix, the man next to us. We planned on meeting with him and his friends later, but it never actually panned out. (We took it personally Felix, don't worry.)

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After our first subway ride in Europe, and of course some wander, we reached our first destination of the day, The Munich Olympic Park. This area of cascading hills was basically how I envision the end of The Sound of Music (yes I know that is Austria, but the point still stands). Those iconic hills with a giant stadium just plopped down in the middle next to a small lake. There was such a contrast between natural and industrial which was truly fascinating.  We passed food stands and heard conversations in languages we couldn't even begin to identify. There were two hills, one larger than the other, but we decided to crest the smaller of the two, conserve energy, sit down and take it all in. It felt like our view was infinite. Spires and bell towers and steeples marked the horizon. I liked this place. I think I always will. 

Our historical outlet for the day was The Nationalist Museum. The museum basically broke down how the Nazi Party came into power leading up to World War II, Munich's role in that, and how the city recovered after the war. We learned more at this museum than a textbook could possibly teach us. There is more to that war than we could ever understand, but after a visit there, I feel like I can grasp so much more of how a hate-filled group could rise to power and rally support. Still and always unjustifiable, but so interesting to learn more and more about the details of that war.

Our last notable stop of the day was at "The Wave", a spot along the river where the totally gnarly locals break out their surfboards and wetsuits and try to ride this continuous wave for a about 20 feet without completely splatting into the riverbank. While I don't think I will ever be bold enough to join in on the action, it was quite exciting to watch. The surfers were like this tiny German sub-culture that no one would ever really expect. They encouraged each other by smacking their boards when someone else did something new or particularly rad. They would joke and tease and challenge too. At one point, there were 4 surfers on the wave, basically playing king of the hill. They laughed and hugged and most seemed to know each other. This was one of those spots I would have never even thought to look for, but Timo insisted we check it out. In retrospect, I see why.

Munich has more to offer than two full days can cover, but those two days were exciting and exhausting and enjoyable. I think we got an authentic experience and again, took time to simply stop and smell the roses. I'm going to miss this place, but until next time, "Auf wiedersehen, Munich." 

Brussels

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This morning was a dream. "I got baked in Brussels". Now before you get worked up and question my morality, let me clarify. There is a bakery about 20 steps from our place called "I Got Baked in Brussels" that makes the most delicious doughnuts (as seen above). Laura and I enjoyed our, you guessed it, lattes and chocolate and lemon poppyseed doughnuts respectively and reflected about how lucky we have been to have so much just fall into place on this trip.

We meandered around the city a bit and got our bearings. We passed building after building that we had to stop and take in. Brussels is just so visually pleasing. We would turn a corner in a seemingly average alley and be knocked off our feet by the magnificent architectural triumphs the city has to offer. There were more than a few to say the least. That said, maybe my most memorable "stumble-upon" was the brass band we wandered on to and simply had to stop and listen for a bit. You can listen to them below. 

As you can hear, they were just happy. You couldn't help but bounce around while they made Coldplay even cooler. 

Our unintentional last stop of the day (I'll explain why in a bit) was a conglomerate of two museums, The Royal Museum and The Modern Museum. We spent hours between the two, wandering and finding the most compelling pieces, at least to us. We found every interactive the museum had to offer as well, which is where the next photo comes from. Surrounded by beautiful, awe-inspiring art, we figured we had to give it a go (in the section presumably designed for kids, but hey, ya gotta do whatcha gotta do). In the foreground is my portrait of Laura and Laura's portrait of me is in the background. Needless to say, we'll leave the art to the artist. 

It was when we left the museum that our day took an unexpected turn. We stepped out onto the square where there were hundreds of police officers and law enforcement vehicles. I had a pit in my stomach as my brain racked from the mildest to most severe reason to bring all of these officers together. We walked around a bit before seeing a barbwire barricade. At that point we looked up "News in Brussels" on our phones. We had our answer in seconds. President Trump had arrived. Over 10,000 people had RSVPed to a march and protest event on Facebook. We had stellar timing. From there, we went back to the area of Brussels we felt we knew best, and found a bench so we could sort out our plans. Not long after, we saw Belgian militia men being dispatched, machine guns and all. We promptly decided that we could very much use a night in, so we returned to our flat and relaxed. 

The next morning, before we were supposed to board our train, we decided we needed to get our hands on a Belgian waffle or two while we had the chance. We looked it up and found a shop that opened at 8am and made our way over there. It was closed. So that was good. We ended up going into a French bakery called Paul, because we needed our daily cup of joe at least. I pointed at the glass case of backed goods and asked the woman if that was quiche. Laura clarified with her, "you know, the salty, savory egg pie?". The Belgian woman nodded yes vehemently. We paid and sat outside. That's the story of the time I unintentionally had cheesecake for breakfast. 

Amsterdam + Brussels

With just a morning left to enjoy our favorite city (I think we will be saying that as we leave every new city), Laura and I headed out for the day. Morning commuters, suits, briefcases and all, passed us swiftly on two wheels (the bike lanes are much more crowded than the actual streets). We were on a mission to find YoughurtBarn, the breakfast joint Google convinced us, without too much prodding, to try. Upon arrival, which was about 8:05am, we noticed that the lights were off and the restaurant was closed. The place didn’t open until 9. Again I was reminded that the early bird is still early in Amsterdam if it is up before 10. We settled for a coffee shop a little way down the road. I ordered a macchiato and was very confused when the barista handed me a shot of espresso and frothy milk. Apparently Starbucks misled my order. A block or so down the road we stopped at a joint with actual breakfast food. The place is called Gout. I never thought I would say something like this, but man, Gout makes for one mean chai latte. They use coconut as a sweetener and believe me, it is an improvement over the honey or sugar or whatever it is we’ve been using.

After breakfast, we wandered our way to our next museum stop which inspired my newest catch phrase, “Van Gogh away, Laura”. The Van Gogh Museum is modern and clean and efficiently tells the story of one man and his art journey (who would have thought?). I didn’t realize what a genius the man was until I saw how masterfully he could paint distinctly different styles. He is self-taught, self-motivated and self-scrutinized which led to his eventual self-inflicted death. He blended styles and established the unique pseudo-pointillism that he is known for, but could paint vivid traditional portraits, and also has pieces with major Japanese influence. His work is drastically more diverse than I knew, and I don’t think you can understand that until you see his pieces face to face in one sitting. Long story short, we loved the museum. It made our brains happy(we were learning AND actually comprehending), our eyes happy (I mean have you seen his work?) and our nerves happy (we knew exactly where we were and where we needed to be next which was certainly a welcome change of pace).

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Brussels

I am used to asking permission before I do anything, really. I am, in just about every facet of life, a rule abiding citizen. Neither are bad things per se, but my brain complicates travel, particularly in train stations. My heart was pounding with the concern of screwing up and getting kicked out or our tickets revoked. We went through a ticket turn style to a platform waited 30 minutes for the train. We on board for a good 15 minutes before anyone asked for any sort of ticket (or in our case Eurail Pass). That said, I feel like thinking you broke at least 3 rules or expectations is completely justifiable. Those 15 minutes before our passes were checked, I was convinced we were on the wrong train. The word “Brussels” on the door was apparently not explicit enough for me.

The taxi men waiting outside of the train station in Brussels figured we were Americans and asked us about Trump. That's the second time we have been asked about him. What's so interesting to me is how Europeans know my president's political philosophy (or at least the international media's interpretation of it). Until we wondered through the city a bit, I didn't really even register that French is their national language of Belgium. I guess the U.S. is more influential (and egocentric to a degree) than I thought. 

I just have to take a moment and share a photo with you of our beautiful Airbnb. The apartment is down an alley a block away from the old church featured above and courted by trendy outdoor bars. I have never felt so suave in my life. It does feel quite a bit like I would imagine France to be, but alas, I've never been there so I could be incredibly off. Our room itself is white and chrome and modern. Its "cool factor" makes up for the impracticality of not having a shower door and/or curtain. Eh, when in Belgium, I guess. 

After a bit more wandering, we decided it was past time to eat dinner. We, again, sought out Google and found what we thought was a joint that was about 2 minutes away called Lola. Lola is a sophisticated, posh restaurant and when we walked in and asked to be seated we realized we had just committed to being sophisticated and posh. Only problem, the wine menu made zero sense. So we settled for just water (which very much confused the waitress) and were brought out what I thought was cinnamon whipped topping to sample. You can imagine the surprise I had when I tasted the pudding textured mix and realized that the french accent can make "salmon" sound a whole lot like "cinnamon". Regardless of that mild mishap, we ordered the most incredibly food, bread and butter, lemon and parmesan linguine, made complete with creme brûlé. Not a bad start to a new city. 

Amsterdam

Today I woke up with the sun in a city that is apparently vacant and nonfunctional until 8am. We made good use of our morning and meandered around the city, stopping twice for coffee (ya know, because of the whole "waking up with the sun" bit). The first was Coffee Co., where you could only pay via card, and the second was Back to Black. Disregarding one name, I got one medium latte at each joint. Back to Black had a cat on a couch for Laura, the smallest yet most endearing basement nook bathroom for the both of us and served me the best latte I've potentially ever had the pleasure of tasting. 

After a slight detour to the wrong Blue Canal Cruise kiosk, we found our boat and hopped aboard. There was minimal seating left so we did the awkward "we don't speak the same language as you but we obviously need to sit down so if ya'll could consolidate and free up enough room on one bench that would be great" series of gestures. Eventually we found our spot between an Australian couple and about 15 boisterous adult hockey players we assume were from Scandinavia.

Let's be real out there, lovers. Your lock isn't going to stay on this bridge forever. Our tour guide said they remove at least half of these locks and recycle them every few months. So that's a fun dose of reality. 

These canals were built in the 17th century. We passed by some getting referbished, but more often than not, its the origonal stone work. 

The tour was lovely (see above photos). We saw so much of the city that was out of realistic walking distance and got to feel the sun on our skin and the wind in our hair. Amsterdam has some really old, really lovely buildings, some of which are tilted, (they were built on wooden rods and those rods can rot or something like that). We were also reminded that every city in the world has a China Town. 

We wandered not too far from the cruise drop off point for lunch at De Carrousel Pannenkoeken, which has the words carousel and pancakes in it so we were down. I ordered an egg, bacon and cheese pancake and Laura got herself a ham, mushroom and cheese one. About ten minutes later, the woman comes back with two plates the size of a medium pizza in The States. It. Was. Awesome. 

The Heineken Experience was all we could have hoped for and so much more. We walked in, got our wristbands and drink tokens from the host who interpreted Laura's "Ah yeah, man! Wristbands! So cool!" as genuine excitement and snuck us each an extra drink token. Score. We learned all about the history and the family, did a few interactive, "this-is-how-you-brew-beer" things then the tour really picked up.

An attractive Dutch man named Thimo (who I grew fond of in our 3 minutes together) told us all about the importance of horses to the company. This somehow inspired a Florida retiree to challenge, "So they're kind of like the Budweiser Clydesdales." At this point Laura and I simultaneously face-palmed and were reminded that while the way is American, it isn't always the best way. "No," said Thimo gently. "They are stronger, faster and have been a part of the company longer." Again, did I mention I enjoyed Thimo?

From there, we went into a simulator and became a bottle of Heineken. You stand on an elevated platform and go through a sensory ride experience as the beer from malting, to bottling. It was hilarious. After that, the guides had us learn how to drink beer, because apparently there is some strategy to it. Big drinks make the beer less bitter because you have more golden beer and less bitter froth and so on. They gave us a glass and didn't take our tokens. At this point, they corral you into the drinking lounge. I kid you not-it was the green EDM festival/night club of your dreams. Booths lined the walls and where there weren't booths, there were massive screens with projections of people partying with Heineken. The whole scene had a green glow and the ceiling looked like a transparent green wave until you realized it was actually lined with green glass bottles. And that was just the beginning.

The rest of the experience included gaming interactives, foosball (I beat Laura), karaoke on bikes, photo booths and sports memorabilia. The place was lit. By green lights. Everywhere. Then finally you get to Lounge #2 which is slightly less bumpin' but it's where your drink tokens come into play. Between the two of us, we could have had 6 beers, but we were smart (mind you, we already had one in the tasting station) and only used one. We left the lounge, hit up the gift shop, didn't buy a thing but were handed Heineken bottle opener key chains. More free stuff. Score. 

Insanely intricate and historical art is pretty cool, rijk? Next, we obviously had to hit up the Rijksmuseum. The building itself was breath-taking. We arrived two hours before it closed and the woman at the ticket counter cautioned us we may need more than two hours, and after taking one hour to go through 2/3 of one floor, I understand why. We saw beautiful, confusing, off-putting and sensational pieces of art that I wish I had the capacity to read everything about every piece and understand much more than I did. The frames were as beautiful as the art in some cases and the paintings inside them looked more like photographs than anything. I liked it. I wanted more, but the clock neared 5pm, the feet started to hurt and the belly was starting to grumble. It was time for dinner.

We got lost. We left the museum through a different door and after just mentioning how well we had been navigating this new city, we got completely and utterly lost. After a few conversations, stops and many Google Maps consultations, we figured we were mostly on the right path. That's when we found a cute little patio table and a nice restaurant. Little did we know it had the slowest most lackadaisical waiter in Europe. It took us reminding him and two other servers that we order a side of fries (we were going to order two but he told us he "preferred" if we only got one) to actually get the fries. They came after our actual meal with a side of mayo, of all dipping sauces. He's lucky my Dutch version of BBQ chicken on a skewer was so good-not that tipping is really a thing in The Netherlands.

Just a bro and his bean bag chair against the world (and the force of gravity because he is in a windowsill).

Arrival in Amsterdam

For starters, jet lag is a real thing. Second, I'm pretty sure Laura and I got on the wrong train, but hey, no one checked our tickets. We ended up where we needed to be so I am chalking that one up in the win column. A kind man from Patagonia chatted us up in line. I could not understand his wife who he explained, "was practicing her English". My inability to speak two languages fluently became abundantly clear in that moment and now becoming conversational in at least 3 languages is added to my list of things to do. 

Our Airbnb is small but quaint. Quaint seems to be the word we continually use to describe this beautiful place. There is this stark contrast between new versus incredibly old, and artistic versus industrial. Everyone dresses way too cool, mostly in all black. As much as we try to assimilate, there is no avoiding the incredibly obvious fact that we are Americans. 

There is an overwhelming number of bikes in the city. They are parked block after block, handle bar to handle bar. This appears to be the most efficient way to get around the city, and these cyclists are the most confident I've seen (mind you, I live on a college campus). Two people on one, small children perched up wherever they fit, hands free biking and the occasional multitasker, we saw it all. Laura suggested we rent bikes one day, but I'm a bit hesitant. I don't think I have the gusto or the general traffic "know how" to ensure that adventure wouldn't be a disaster. 

The most apparent difference I've noticed is the pace of life here. Laura put it best when she observed, "the people here take the time to stop and smell the roses". That's something that I really don't see back home and is certainly something  I have already begun to appreciate. We sat on a park bench for a while (well really it was more of a massive log sawn in half) and just took it all in. The only word that can really encapsulate it is lovely. This park is just flat out lovely.

Laura said, "hello, Sir" to every dog that passed us on that bench. She even managed to befriend a beagle pup whose name we never really could catch. There was an abundance of incredibly happy and overwhelmingly beautiful couples with these pups, or holding hands and strolling, or licking ice cream cones that were big enough to be considered a single scoop in the U.S. And then there was Laura and me. It was great.

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We had dinner on the patio of a Middle Eastern restaurant called Bazar. I ate the mushrooms on my beef kabob and that's a big deal. Maybe Europe will force me into liking more veggies than just corn and carrots. I sipped mint tea while Laura drank Heineken. We felt like adults and that is a cool feeling.

Anywho, today was an exhausting yet exhilarating day. Our exhaustion left us laughing at this coffee shop's name for much longer than its title warranted. 

"What did you think of that coffee shop?"

"Eh, nice place."