justjoshfunk1

Austria Powers: Our groovy trip to Vienna

2012-10-15T16:09:00.002-05:00

The Czech Republic was great, but it's time to move on (and further east) to Vienna, where we'll have to stumble through a new language (German) and convert our valuable Czech krona to the dollar-beating euro. This is how we spent our time in Austria's vibrant capital.

The tomb of Queen Maria Theresa and her hubs.

Thu., Oct. 11: Our nifty eight-person shuttle (run by Lobo) from Krumlov to Vienna picked us up at 9 a.m. this morning. On the way — mostly along an interstate — we stopped at a rest area where we had just enough euros from our last trip to Europe to buy a bottle of water and two cappuccinos. #paystothinkahead!

When we arrived in Vienna, we metro'd to the sixth district to check into our apartment — an Airbnb rental just off the hustle-y Mariahilferstrasse. Like most apartments we've rented through Airbnb, this one's decked floor to ceiling in Ikea, but it's one of the most comfortable. It's situated just off a secluded garden courtyard, so it's super quiet, and we're within walking distance to the heart of Vienna — the Ringstrasse (pronounced Ring-strahss-a).

That's where we set our sites on our first day, doing a tour from our Rick Steve's guidebook to get oriented. The walk took us by the famous Opera House, some memorials and a spattering of the city's most famous cafes (like the one where the Sachertorte was invented), but the best stops were the Imperial Crypt (aka Kaisergruft) and Saint Stephen's Cathedral. The former is an unassuming church that holds the remains (only the bodies; their hearts and innards are buried elsewhere) of dozens of important Hapsburg royals. My favorites were the gigantic sarcophagus of Queen Maria Theresa and the late-19th century's Princess Diana, Empress Elisabeth of Austria, also known as "Sisi." People still pile flowers on her grave, even though she died in 1898.

Saint Stephen's Cathedral was immense and beautiful, sitting right in the middle of one of Vienna's busiest, modern shopping streets. We got there too late to walk all the way to the alter, but hovering around the outskirts was all I needed to proclaim it my "Favorite Cathedral on this Trip." Sorry, Saint Vitus in Prague.

Vienna's a gorgeous city; so full of life. I can understand why people refer to it as the "Paris of Eastern Europe," with its grand buildings, Champs-Élysées-like boulevards and a cafe culture that, I have to say, one-ups the fashionable city on the Seine. We're thrilled to be here.

Parmigianino's Self Portrait in a Convex Mirror.

Fri., Oct. 12: After breakfast in our apartment, we shuffled to the Ringstrasse to tour the Kunsthistorisches (pronounced "koonst-something-something-something), a palatial museum that holds a ton of art the Hapsburgs collected through the years. We saw masterpieces by big-namers like Raphael, Velázquez, Rubens and Rembrandt, but my favorite piece was Parmigianino's blink-and-you'll-miss-it Self Portrait in a Convex Mirror, which displayed an impressive sense of depth-perception that you don't see in many Renaissance-era works. Besides the art, another unique aspect about the museum is the staff's carefree attitude. They don't glare at you from corners, wagging disapproving fingers like they do in museums like the Prado or the Louvre. You're free to snap photos (no flash!) and stick your nose right up to the works. It's a good example of the Viennese people's laid-back attitude about life.

After that we headed to the Hofburg Palace comlex's Imperial Treasury to peep a vault full of blingy Hapsburg jewels and collectibles. There were neat things here — like Napolean's son's crib and the coronation garb worn by centuries of Hapsburg kings — but I was pissed they didn't have more gems worn by Hapsburg women. The only thing of note was a couple earrings and a hair beret worn by Sisi (who apparently had hair that hung to her ankles). Really?! A vault full of royal jewels and no fabulous pieces worn by a queen? Come on!

The rest of the evening included a mini shopping spree along the Mariahilferstrasse, a nice dinner at an Asian restaurant in our hood called ShanghaiTan and our first (and only) Sachertorte (soccer-tort) at Cafe Griensteidl, a velvet-seated cafe near the Hofburg Palace. The cake was a little dry, but the plush atmosphere and snooty waiters in bow ties felt quintessentially Viennese.

Alan browsing the flea market at Naschmarkt.

Sat., Oct. 13: Vienna's a huge city. There's so much to do here that we're forced to keep a pretty strict itinerary. We're trying our best to follow it, but. inevitably, we'll spend too much time at one site and have to shift things around to make sure we have time for our No. 1 picks. A few items (a guided tour around the Ringstrasse) have moved to the back burner, while others (a hike through the Vienna woods) have completely fallen off the stove.

Today we headed back toward the Ringstrasse to tour the crypts in Saint Michael's Church. Unlike the Imperial Crypt, this musty basement holds the dilapidated coffins of hundreds of regular folk who attended the church back in the day, and a few noble families and priests. The animated guide, a little old lady I like to refer to as "the crypt keeper," led us deep under the church to see the old caskets, which, in some cases were opened to reveal some of the mummified corpses. We saw one woman in fine silk with her mouth stretched open like she was screaming, and another with her noggin turned slightly to the side as if she was in a slumber. It was creepy, but a really worthwhile visit.

From there we walked back toward our neighborhood to the Naschmarkt, a popular eating and shopping destination that has both indoor restaurants and bars, and open-air produce and food stands. Today, there was a huge flea market happening around it. There were hundreds of booths full of all kinds of knick knacks, clothing, jewelry and art. We had a great time browsing the goods, picking up some things for ourselves and even getting an early start on Christmas shopping.

The afternoon went by swimmingly but later in the evening we were faced with a dose of "things don't always go your way." At 5:30 we headed to the Opera House to wait in line for standing-room tickets to that evening's show, Mozart's magnificent Le Nozzi de Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro). Standing-room seats sounded like a good idea for several reasons: (1) They're only 3 euros, (2) you can easily leave at anytime you start to feel bored and (3) you get to see the opera in Vienna for 3 euros!

Acting all smug with my opera specs that I'd never be able to use.

We planned ahead and got there early enough to snag a spot in the very front of the balcony's standing-room section. From there we had a too-good-to-be-true view of the stage (where everyone from Mozart to Maria Callas has performed) and theater, which was as grand and over-the-top as you'd imagine. Once situated, we still had a half-hour before the show started, so the usher told us we could hold our spots by placing a scarf or program over the rail in front of us — a tradition that's lasted for as long as the theater's been offering these types of seats. So we did that and went to have ourselves a glass of red wine in the lobby before curtain.

Unfortunately, when we returned a mustachioed middle-aged gentleman and his lady friend were standing in our spots. Alan went down to let them know we had the places reserved — and several people we met in line even chimed in to say we were telling the truth. He was defiant, though, and turned his back (red mullet and all) on Alan with a brisk, "Nein!" By the time we found the usher, the music had started and we had to face the fact that making a scene would just ruin every one else's experience, so we decided to leave.

It's a good thing we had a good 15-minute walk back to the apartment to cool our heads before bedtime. Oooooh, you should have heard us cursing!

Stadtpark

Sun., Oct. 14: Vienna's a monster of a city, so it's been hard to get a feel for its personality. And it doesn't help that we've been spending our days basically going back and forth between our apartment and all the major sites in the city's center. Today we decided to make an effort to get away from those sites to explore some of the neighborhoods. But first we had to knock one more biggie off our list: the Hofburg Palace.

This palace served as the wintertime living and working quarters of the ruling Hapsburg family. The three-part tour started with an exhibit of the family's massive silver collection; basically a bunch of grandiose place settings. It was neat at first, but after about 40 minutes looking at fancy plates and egg cups and fruit bowls I kind of wanted to stab myself with a silver knife. Next up was the Sisi Museum, my favorite part. The exhibit walked us through her entire life — from her noble upbringing in Bavaria to the day she was stabbed to death by an anarchist in 1898. Along the way we learned about her battle with depression (she abhored the duties of royal life) and an obsession with her looks that led to harsh dieting (going days drinking only milk) and an intensive workout regime. Alan thought the the whole thing was a little kooky, but I ate it up.

The final leg of the tour was a stroll through the apartments of Franz Joseph and Sisi. The best part was Sisi's dressing area, where we saw her workout gear and the dressing table where she'd sit for up to three hours a day while servants did her hair. The rest was a bunch of fancy walls and furniture and blah, blah, blah.

To accomplish our goal of seeing more of the city, we decided to take a walking tour of the Ringstrasse. While still technically the "center of city," this massive boulevard is three miles around. Circling it gave us a chance to explore the lush Stadtpark, an ultra-modern part of town along the Danube and the impressive Neo-Gothic city hall. Toward the end of the tour — which took about three hours all together — we veered off path to explore an artsy cafe- and hip-boutique-clad corner of the 7th District called Spittelberg. There's no way we can see it all in four days, but I think we gave the surface a good scratching.

Fountain on Neuer Markt Square.

Final impressions: Vienna's a tough nut to crack. It's a beautiful city, but it takes effort to get to the soul of this town, and four days of site-seeing just won't do the trick. Its people are similar. Many of our causal interactions with locals seemed cold and uninspired, but the ones we actually engaged seemed to open up and be quite friendly. If we come back, we'll be sure to keep the Innere Stadt (Inner City) in the distance and focus on the outlying areas.

Language: Another toughie, but not quite as foreign to us as Czech. Most people we interacted with knew English, so we were able to manage fairly easily with a pocketful of phrases, most important of which is Sprechen sie English, bitte? (Do you speak English, please?).

Food: We only had a few traditional Austrian meals, which typically consists of a lot of meats and kraut. We tried a Wiener schnitzel that was pretty tasty but nothing we'd want to eat twice in four days. The comfortable, old-world cafes are the real winners here. I had one of the best espressos ever at a spot downstairs from our apartment called Pierre. The Naschmarkt is another must-do. The whirlwind of a marketplace is stuffed with food options from across the globe. We stopped at a Mediterranean stand for falafel and hummus and a yummy spread of cheese-filled figs, peppers and dates. The vendors can be a little impatient and pushy, so show up with your decisive cap on.

Money: Austria uses the euro, so our dollar lost a bit of value. Most of our meals were pretty reasonably priced, though, as we're the museum admissions. We saved money by picking up a few things at the grocery to keep at the apartment. Having access to a fully equipped kitchen is one of the main reasons we prefer renting Airbnbs.

Next stop: We're gonna eat too much paprika and soak in the hot springs in Budapest, Hungary!

Czech List: Our pit stop in Český Krumlov

2012-10-11T13:44:00.000-05:00

Alan and I love small European towns, so we couldn't let this trip go by without passing through at least one. On our way from Prague to Vienna, we decided to make a pit stop in a little nugget of a village called Český Krumlov that sits near the Austrian border. Here's a little glimpse at how we spent our time there.

The fall foliage really added to Krumlov's already-beautiful landscape.

Tue., Oct. 9: To get to Krumlov, we took a bus run by Student Agency. The trip was a quick three hours and fairly painless. It gave us a chance to check out some of the rolling Czech countryside, which wouldn't be particularly impressive if not for the fall foliage. It's gorgeous, and neat to experience fall in another part of the world.

Those leaves followed us all the way to Český Krumlov, an adorable little town that's zig-zagged by the Vltava River. Its biggest draw is an enormous castle that sits on a hill overlooking the small terra-cotta-roofed village. We're staying in a cottage that's run by one of the many local hostels called Krumlov House. When the front-desk attendant (an art student from New Hampshire!) let us into the cabin, we were greeted by another one of our European firsts — a house kitten that I named Lehky Hlava (her real name's Erma, pronounced "Errrrrma"). It turns out she belongs to a lady who lives around the corner, but she made herself at home in our flat in no time. She's one of the cutest kittens I've ever seen; like a little ragdoll. She'll let you pick her up and flop her around every which way. It broke my heart to put her out when we were ready to go out touring.

We spent the rest of the afternoon taking a tour of the town, which started near our cabin, weaved through a chapel and the old-world town square and ended up at the gates of the castle, which is flanked by pits inhabited by two bears (a coat-of-arms symbol of the ruling family who lived in the palace back in the day).

It took us a while to find a place to have dinner. Most of the guide-book-recommended spots were closed - like much of the town. Krumlov reminds me of Peñíscola, a seaside village we stayed in last spring when doing a road trip through Spain. Like that town, Krumlov is run by tourists and, being here in October, it feels like we're right on the cusp of the end of the visiting season. Most everything was closed by 6 p.m. — even the grocery stores. We finally stumbled into a cavernous traditional Czech restaurant. The food was pretty good. We started with a bottle of Moravian red, a bowl of Czech soup and each had a baked carp dish with parsley mashed potatoes. On the way home we stopped at a restaurant called Konvice to have tea and a delicious piece of medovnik, a cinnamon-spiced honey cake that's popular in this region. It was scrumptious.

Lehky Hlava found a comfy spot on our bed.

Wed., Oct. 10: I woke up this morning to the pitter-patter of Lehky Hlava walking across my chest. Alan had let her in before he left for the grocery. I wanted to lay there and snuggle with her a little longer, but she was feeling playful, so I had to get up to keep her entertained.

Alan returned with a bag full of food to make for breakfast. We made an egg scramble with marinara, lots of garlic (because I feel a cold coming on) and leftover carp from my dinner last night. It was good — and the first time we've made anything other than cereal on one of our overseas trips. Another first!

The castle's definitely the biggest draw here, but we decided it looked a little cheesy and opted to take a hike instead. We grabbed a map from the hostel's front desk and trekked several miles out into the Krumlov countryside. The trail took us past farmlands and straight into a forest that's rife with gigantic, thin evergreens, a spattering of mossy ponds and all kinds of flowers and shrubs. It was breathtaking. And I mean that literally, some of those hills were crazy steep. I'll be feeling it in the morning.

For dinner, we went to Laibon, a vegetarian restaurant that was recommended to us while we were in Prague. The food here is Middle Eastern-inspired, with a variety of organic ("bio") and macrobiotic options. I had a flavorful chili with pinto beans, tomatoes and lots of spices, and Alan had a mushy-in-a-good-way red lentil dish with mixed vegetables. The food was good, but the chilly, cellar-like atmosphere was neater - we were surrounded by old-looking stone walls with votives (some lit, some not) situated in various cracks.

Final Impressions: Krumlov is about as picturesque as small towns come. It was hard to put down the camera. And wow-oh-wow, you should see it at night. When we turned our eyes to the heart of the city, we realized that Krumlov is a quirky little place. To us, the people seemed a little strange. I suspect that had something to do with the language barrier, which I describe in more detail below. One interesting observation we made is their apparent aversion to using heat. It was pretty chilly while we were there, and we froze our asses off in most every cafe, bar and restaurant we visited. I should have prepared myself when I read a sign in our cabin that said, "If you get cold put on a sweater."

Shivers aside, I think being in Krumlov in the fall accentuated the beauty, and probably halved the tourist crowds I imagine overtake the place during warmer months. To me, this is the place's biggest downfall. It comes across as a Bruges or — dare I say it - Pigeon Forge; a cutesy little town that forces some of its traditions for the sake of sucker tourists. It really is spectacularly beautiful, though, and our enchanting hike through the surrounding woods is a memory I'll cherish until I get too old and senile to remember things.

Language: We definitely had a few more language-barrier problems in Krumlov than we did in Prague. Our two-word Czech vocab didn't cut it here, creating a few clunky interactions with several store clerks and shopkeeps. Thank God for universal gestures and semi-forgiving people.

Food: Meal options were pretty similar here than they were in Prague. I mentioned all our favorite restaurants above, but I definitely recommend trying the medolvnik and having a fancy cocktail or two at Apotheke. The mead, a honey wine served hot or cold, is a local favorite, too, but I tried the hot version and didn't care for it. Reminded me of the hot toddies my mom used to give me when I had a cold (aka when she wanted me to shut the hell up and go to sleep).

Money: Same as Prague, of course. Being a smaller town, I expected things to be less expensive but that wasn't the case.

Next stop: We're gonna get our opera, cafe culture and Hapsburg history on in Vienna, Austria!

Czech List: Our trip to Prague

2012-10-09T08:06:00.000-05:00

In March, Alan and I booked tickets for a two-week mini-tour of Eastern Europe. Our interest in this part of the country started when I got the idea to start picking European destinations alphabetically. That led to Albania, which, even though it's shown up on some recent best-new-destinations lists, seemed a little too rough-and-tumble for us to try just yet. But its eastern location prodded us to pick some of the cities in that region-ish we have wanted to visit. The first stop on our itinerary was Prague. Here's a day-by-day look at how we spent our time there.

The John Lennon Wall.

Fri., Oct. 5: Alan and I usually pop sleeping pills when taking long flights, but unfortunately cramped airplane cabins don't always allow us to appropriately sleep the suckers off. On that note, our first day in Prague was experienced through excited but sleepy eyes. We were determined to truck it out until bedtime, though, because we've learned that even the shortest nap can set you on a path straight to Jetlagandia.

We're renting a small apartment in the Little Quarter, something we found through Airbnb. It's a charming little studio decorated with Ikea furniture and several Audrey Hepburn accoutrements. It's ideally located within blocks of the western entrance of the Charles Bridge, but just far enough away to escape all the touristy hub-bub.

We spent our first day taking a guide-book tour of our hood. Some of the highlights included a walk around the weird-sculpture-adorned Kampa Island, a peek at the colorful and imaginative John Lennon Wall and a late-night classical concert at the Baroque-tastic Saint Nicholas Church. If you can imagine, being as sleepy as we were, we had a hell of a time staying awake for that latter activity. We capped off the evening with a romantic stroll across the Charles Bridge, which afforded us our first glimpse of the more-touristy but totally gorgeous eastern side of the Vltava River. We can't wait to see more of it tomorrow.

View from the Castle Quarter.

Sat., Oct. 6: One of our goals on every Europe trip is to try something we've never tried before. In 2010, we popped our get-stoned-in-Europe cherry in Amsterdam and in 2011 we rented a car and did a road trip across Spain. This year we have a few ideas up our sleeves — one of which is to hire a private tour guide in Prague.

Andrea Řezníčková (booked via Personal Prague Guide), a bubbly, early-thirtysomething "typical Prague girl," showed up at our door this morning at 11 a.m. She took us to a local cafe, where we "drew into a map" to configure a walking tour suited to our interests. We asked her to take us on a tour that started with sites pertaining to some of Prague's oldest history (think Hapsburgs) and transitioned to some of the more modern stuff (think Commie assholes). We started by taking a tram to the Castle Quarter where we toured the Prague Castle, which houses the offices of the sitting president, Václav Klaus, and the spectacular but way-too-crowded Saint Vitus Cathedral. Then we rode down to Prague's main thoroughfare, Wenceslas Square, where, on Nov. 17 1989, thousands of Prague citizens filled the streets to protest the country's one-party government. Known as the Velvet Revolution, this was the moment that catapulted the country to freedom from restrictive Communist rule. Andrea was an extremely well-informed guide who was happy to answer every question we threw at her — and there were a lot. It was especially interesting to hear about her own experiences with Communism in the '80s. We ended our tour over beer and a delicious spicy cheese spread at Restaurace u Provaznice (aka The Ropemakers Wife).

After that, Alan and I pulled out the guide book and did a little rogue-style touring. We went to the stunning Old Town Square where we wedged ourselves into a ridiculous crowd to watch the funny Astronomical Clock go off at the top of the hour, and toured some of the surrounding churches. On the way home we stopped by an outdoor market called Havelske to pick up some fresh raspberries for breakfast.

At Country Life vegetarian restaurant.

Sun., Oct. 7: We started our day with a stroll through the gardens surrounding Wallenstein Palace, which, we discovered, was just across the street from our apartment. It's a dainty, Parisian-style spot of green lined with shrubs, dotted with fountains and regularly strolled upon by a flock of peacocks — one of which is albino. It was a lovely start to the day. Our next order of business was a more-in-depth tour of Wenceslas Square. While there, we popped into a few stores to do some shopping — both winding up with a new shirt or two. Lunch was had at a vegetarian restaurant near Old Town Square called Country Life. It's a hippie-dippy, buffet-style cafe that serves salads and veggie versions of typical Czech cuisine. The food has been great here — lots of hearty, flavorful goulash, sausages, breads and cheeses — but after a while the heaviness starts to drag you down. This veggie spot was, as Alan put it, "a nice respite." Afterward we toured the Mucha Museum, which, if you ask me is skippable, but Alan really enjoyed it.

In the evening we met up with my friend and City Paper colleague Samantha, who just so happens to be on a trip here, too, with her friend Yvonne. We had a great time gabbing over a delicious dinner (and wine!) at another vegetarian restaurant called Maitrea, which also served meat-free variations on typical Czech cuisine and a few ethnically inspired dishes. Dessert and coffee was had at the historical Café Louvre, a favorite hangout of famous dudes like Franz Kafka and Albert Einstein. We tried a variety of tasty desserts — an apple strudel, and ricotta and raspberry cakes — but my hot chocolate with rum was probably the best. It was topped with a hefty dollop of housemade whip cream. Di-vine!

After dropping off the ladies at their hotel, Alan and I strolled back to our apartment via Charles Bridge, which, for the first time since we've been on it, was crowd-free. It gave us a nice chance to walk across leisurely, checking out each of the statues and gaze at Prague's dreamy landscape, all lit up like a fairy-tale land on each side of the Vltava River.


On Petřín Hill.

Mon., Oct. 8: We started today with a plan — to take a tour of Prague's Jewish Quarter — but that quickly fell through when we arrived and realized all the sites were closed for a Jewish Holiday. Plan B? The Medieval Museum. But come to find out, it's closed on Mondays. There wasn't really a Plan C, so we had to improv. We decided to stroll north along the Vltava River to see the Dancing House. Along the way we stopped for a browse through the Artbank Museum of Young Art, a multi-leveled ultra-contemporary art space filled with all kinds of strange works by young artists. We really enjoyed it. After that we stopped for a great lunch at School, a slick-looking restaurant that focuses on fresh, seasonal ingredients. We each had a glass of local white wine and a bowl of spicy pumpkin soup that was lick-your-bowl-worthy.

The Dancing House was pretty cool, a super modern clunk of architecture that sits on a corner alongside a row of fancy baroque, gothic and art nouveau-era facades. From there, we crossed back onto the eastern side of the Vltava to take an exhausting hike up Petřín Hill. The view from up top was something else.

We ended our night with a fab meal at Lehka Hlava, another crunchy vegetarian restaurant owned by the same folks as Maitrea. We actually liked this spot a little better. The food was about the same, but the atmosphere was cozier, setup in a small dining room decorated in a colorful enchanted-jungle motif. It was pretty dreamy.

Final Impressions: Prague has earned itself a spot at the top of our favorite-places list. The city is extremely walkable and fairly easy to navigate - that is, when you're not being stalled by the crowds. It's definitely a tourists' city. I'm thankful we stayed in the Little Quarter, which kept us just far enough away from the hustle-bustle but only a hop and skip to Old Town, where most things seem to be happening. Prague is an exciting, vibrant town, and one of the most beautiful places we've seen. The enchanting, well-preserved blend of architecture — Medieval castles and looming baroque cathedrals alongside Art Nouveau-era concert halls and ornate Renaissance palaces — lends the city an enchanting quality that makes you feel like you're living in an honest-to-God fairy tale - especially when it's glowing at night. We had a wonder- filled time.

Language: Neither of us have had any experience with the Slavic-rooted language. But the Czech people have had plenty of practice with ours. We did our best to use some of the basics. Locals seemed appreciative when we'd say things like "Dobrý den" ("Hello," pronounced "doe-bree den") or "Deku" ("Thank you," pronounced "jyaa-quee"). But we never had to go much further than that.

Food: We didn't have a single bad meal in Prague. We started the trip seeking out traditional Czech cuisine, which is hearty, super flavorful and bone-sticking. Our favorite regional bites were the goulash (tomato-based stew with spices, beef and potatoes) and the spicy cheese spread we had at Restaurace u Provaznice. When we felt like we'd had it with the meats and cheeses, finding veggie restaurants was a breeze — contrary to what we heard before coming. We found three places (all listed above) that we loved, and saw several more. The wine was great, too, especially in a culture that thrives on beer. We made it a point to stick with regional varieties, which tend to be full-bodied and almost pepper-y when red, and the whites were nicely dry and crisp.

Money: The U.S. dollar goes a little farther in the Czech Republic - especially when dining. For example, our meal at Lehky Hlava (two glasses of wine, an appetizer, two entrees, a dessert and two cups of tea) was 700 Kč, which may sound wildly expensive, but was only $35. Tip: An easy way to convert kcs to dollars is to drop the last number (700 = 70) and divide that by two (70 \2 = 35). We were told by our landlord and tour guide that it's customary to round to the nearest half-dollar when tipping (700 = 750 = about $38). Easy breezy cheapy!

Next stop: South to Český Krumlov, a small castle down near the Austrian border. Stay tuned!.

Our Return to San Francisco

2012-05-02T10:59:00.000-05:00

Hi Bloggy Friends,

When Alan and I moved from San Francisco five years ago, we were ready to scram. Four years of urine stench, chilly temps and being thousands of miles from our families eventually drove us away. But as time went by, our fondness for it began to rebloom, so we decided to mark our half-decade away with a spring trip.

We weren't sure how much the town had changed since we left, but we were happy to see a lot of our old faves still thriving — a welcome sign coming from a city that seems to flip businesses like they're going out of, well, business. There does seem to be a fresher, Upper-West-Side chicness blended into the culture, something we learned is the result of relatively local dotcoms that have blown up in the years since we've been gone. Big-namers like Facebook and Google run shuttle services that cart their employees in and out the Bay Area, a move that's driven up rents and added heft to the commonest of price tags. We even hear the grimy Tenderloin will be spiffing up soon with the arrival of the Instagram headquarters. Oh, snap!

For our trip, we mostly stuck to the areas we knew best, strolling through hoods like the Mission, Haight and Castro, visiting our favorite eateries, and reveling in the departure from reality that comes with being in that crazy-ass city. Here are some quick highlights:

A sugar and his scone.

Our Apartment: We rented a sunny little grandma-chic flat near the corner of Octavia and Fulton in Hayes Valley; only two blocks from the hustle bustle of hip Hayes Street. The space was quirky, roomy and fitted with one of the most comfy beds I've ever laid on. And funny enough, the guy we rented from turned out to be the boyfriend of one of the first friends I met when I moved to San Francisco in 2004. It's a small, gay world.

Favorite Haunts: On our first night, we had dinner at Miyabi, a nondescript sushi spot in the Castro that makes the Godzilla Roll, a thick mix of crab, unagi and spicy tuna that's dipped in a deep fryer and drizzled with something orgasmic. Yes, it was just as delish as we remembered. We also had great return-to-memory-lane meals at Herbivore vegetarian restaurant, Samovar tea lounge and one of the best cakeries I've ever known, Sweet Inspiration. I love you, Lemon Poppy Seed cake.

New Places: The trip wasn't all about hitting up places we frequented before; we wanted to try a few new things, too. We had a divine meal at Gracias Madre, a brand new vegan/organic Mexican joint in the Mission. One night we sipped on absinthe drinks in Blackbird, a bar in the Castro that specializes in fancy, old-school spirit and tincture concoctions. It was an awesome place, but my Kentucky came out when I got snippy with a guy who kept shoving us out of the way. I told him to "try excuse me next time." He called me a "cunt." We also stumbled across a beautiful, modern tea shop around the corner from our apartment called Taste, where we each had a cup of chilled rooibos and a French-style macaroon. Le mmm!

Virgin Mary chic.

Art/Fashion: On Thursday we went to the de Young Museum in Golden Gate Park to see the "Fashion World of Jean Paul Gaultier: From the Sidewalk to the Catwalk," a multi-room exhibition of some of the famed designer's most fantastical couture. There was stuff from his "Virgin" collection, clothing he made for movies like The Skin I Live In, and a bunch of naughty threads and sketches he made for Madonna (hello, cone boobs!). Besides the clothing, the neatest thing about it was the moving faces projected onto the mannequins (see video below). They would jabber and sing, and every once in a while dart their eyes in your direction. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little creeped out.

Science: Partnered with a scientist, it's only natural that our trips involve some sort of total nerdery. After visiting the de Young we met up with our friend Matthew and hit up the California Academy of Science s' (CAS) weekly NightLife soiree, where we sipped wine, got our sweat on in the humid rainforest dome and trekked up to the Living Roof to peek at Venus through a high-powered telescope. (It looked like a quarter moon). Another science highlight was when we saw a hawk swoop down and catch a mouse in the park between the CAS and de Young Museum. It clawed that sucker up, flew it to its nest and started choking it down. Alan got a picture. I almost barfed.

It's not technically a science outing, but on Saturday afternoon we went to Pacifica to have brunch with a group of Alan's former UCSF lab mates. It was hosted at the home of our friends Traci and Kerim, which sits on a giant hill that faces a valley in the foreground and a peek at the Pacific Ocean in the back. We spent a lot of time with this group of people when we lived here, so it was great to catch up and see them all doing so well.

A gay and his smoothie.

Gay!: On Friday night we went to the Stud in SOMA to see "Some Thing," a drag show that, on this night, was themed "Manly." It was each drag persona's job to incorporate something butch into their mostly experimental performances, and they were all hilarious and wonderfully weird. One drag king, who looked like Hatchet Face from Crybaby, utilized her stage time screaming "Jacob!" and beating the hell out of a cardboard box. That was the whole performance. My favorite was Suppositori Spelling, a drag queen who's been working the SF drag circuit since I lived there. She had on a skirt that was about as long as a fake eye lash, and she hoisted it up to reveal a face she ~~drew~~ smudged on her scrawny butt cheeks that was akin to the way you can draw eyes and lips on the side of your fist to turn it into a puppet. Laying sideways on a bar stool, she flapped her cheeks up and down to make her bum lip-sync the rest of her song. Oh, and it finished her cigarette, too. Puff, puff, ass!

Josh

The Day Whitney Houston Died

2012-02-12T14:40:00.003-06:00

Hi Bloggy Friends,

I lost a piece of my soul when I found out Whitney Houston passed away on Saturday. If you didn't know this already, all gays are guided in life by a fairy god diva. Whitney was mine.

My earliest memory of her consists of a prepubescent me sliding The Bodyguard into a clunky Walkman and singing my heart out as I strolled the country road I used to live along. The cows and Farmer Joes I passed stared like I was an alien, but with Whitney's angelic voice piping in my ears, I was sent to a rare world where I didn't give a damn what other people thought. I'd just belt my favorite track, "I Will Always Love You," at the top of my lungs — something I could do less screechily in the days before my vocal chords manned up.

Her voice was at its prime in those days; crystal clear — like the little bell in It's a Wonderful Life that could give angels their wings. I was hooked.

From then on, I wore out every album and movie I could get my hands on — Waiting to Exhale (Shoop!), The Preacher's Wife, and 1998's My Love is Your Love (MLIYL), which contained the songs that became the anthems of my "coming out" years. I thought she was particularly powerful during this era. Her videos were rife with you-better-watch-yourself finger waves at the camera, and enough hand-on-hip, head-twisting action to empower a whole generation of new-to-the-scene gay boys. It was exactly what I needed to guide me through the incessant "I'm gay" speeches I had to make for family and friends. Being forced to share my queerness with the world was exhausting, but all was made right when I pushed play on "It's Not Right But It's OK" and finger-waved myself back to a happier place.

It wasn't long after MLIYL that she started the unfortunate descent from world-renowned vocal queen to becoming synonymous with the word "crack." She didn't help the situation, either. The reality show she did with Bobby was excruciating to watch, and she looked homeless in every tabloid photo that showed up on the newsstands. And then the biggest blow of all — she couldn't sing the way she used to. There was no more confident attitude. She seemed weak. Scared. It broke my heart. I felt like my diva gave up.

There were a few post-"crack is whack" moments of hope. I was living in Chicago when she released Just Whitney, which was nowhere near as critically acclaimed as her previous works, but I was in line at Tower Records in Lincoln Park at midnight the day it was released. Then came her Christmas album, One Wish, and in 2010 she released what would become her final album, I Look to You. I played them all with the same fervor as her old stuff, straining myself to listen for the Whitney moments I adored — the sassy runs, the extra "ohs" and "uhs" at the end of a verse. I tricked myself into believing she was still there, but deep inside I knew my Whitney was gone forever.

And now she really is. It's refreshing to hear so much praise for her on the news and Twitter. I do want to express something, though. Everyone keeps calling Whitney Houston ONE of our greatest singers. But I disagree. I think she was THE greatest. She had a God-given talent no vocalist could hold a candle to. A co-worker of mine said it best this week when he called Whitney a queen. She made an incomparable mark on music history — being the only artist to have seven consecutive No. 1 hit singles, and in her sadly too-short career she racked up 415 awards. Her legacy will continue to inspire the vocalists that'll sing us through the rest of our lives. And even though I'm wearing my gay shoes comfortably these days, her voice will continue to give me strength. No matter where I'm at in life, if I hear a Whitney song overhead I know I'm in the right place at the right time. That, after all, is what fairy god divas are for.

I will always love you,

Josh

Please enjoy this video of my favorite Whitney performance, singing "I Will Always Love You" on VH1 Divas Live in 1999.

Our Trip to Lake Como

2011-07-06T19:46:00.001-05:00

Hi Bloggy Friends,

In celebration of our three-day Fourth of July weekend, Alan, the puppies and I rented a cabin in Lake Como with our good friend Eric. Lake Como is a spiffy lake town on the northeastern border of Pennsylvania and New York. As you can see in the photos below, we spent our time grilling, swimming, reading and catching up on some much needed downtime. We totally need to do this more often.

Madrid Travel Guide: We art Spain's capital

2011-04-08T19:05:00.003-05:00

Hola Bloggy Friends,

Our last two days in Madrid have been filled with tours, parks, good food and lots and lots of art. I've said it before, but there's no overstating what a busy city this is. The streets are full (and loud) every night and, uncannily, there's a tour group lurking around every corner. I half expect someone to be leading a tour of our hotel room when we get home at night. It's a completely different feel than the other cities we visited, but we've done our best to dodge the crowds in the attempt to discover the best parts of this hustley-bustley city. And I think we've done a great job.

On Thursday, we took a tour of the Palacio Real de Madrid (the Royal Palace of Madrid). The 2000-room palace was built in 1738 by Philip V and is still used by the royal family today for occasional ceremonious functions. The tour was restricted to a fraction of the complex, including the throne room, dining room and the bedroom where King Charles III died. The best part, though, was the connecting armory where we saw the shield of Boabdil, the Moorish sultan who surrendered his throne to King Ferdinand and Queen Isabela in the late 1400s. The palace itself, though, was fairly lackluster. Sure, it was grand and decorated over-the-top with sparkly chandeliers, tapestries inspired by Raphael and plush antique furniture, but,it all felt a little obvious and uninspired. Even though all of our guidebooks call it a "must-see," we feel like it's skippable. The Biltmore Estate in Asheville, N.C. is more impressive.

No trip to Madrid, however, can be complete without a visit to the Museo Reina Sofia, which is what we did on our last full day in the city. This modern, four-story art house is packed with some of the twentieth century's superstar artists. Arranged chronologically instead of by artist, the layout is refreshingly easy to swallow and it provides a fascinating look at how various historical events, like World Wars I and II and the Spanish Civil War, shaped the art of that generation. The museum's biggest draw is Picasso's Guernica, a bold statement against Franco after he allowed Hitler to test his bomber jets on the small town of Guernica — killing hundreds of unsuspecting citizens and animals. This is unlike anything of Picasso's I've seen — so violent and large enough to dwarf our little South Philly row home. It was an honor to see.

And while Guernica is the most famous, there are tons of iconic images throughout the museum, including an impressive collection of works by art icons like Joan Miró and Salvador Dalí. We exhausted ourselves taking in every straight line, distorted cube and surrealist landscape, but it was worth every second — definitely one of the highlights of our entire trip.

Speaking of the trip, our time in Spain has been magical. After two weeks exploring different cities, we feel that we've been able to envelop ourselves in the culture of this beautiful, proud country. We've learned so much about the history, had wonderful food and, above all, had the chance to spend this time together. It'll be an adjustment getting back to "regular life," but we're ready to be home to see our friends, talk to family and, of course, snuggle with our pets. We've missed their hearts so much.

I really appreciate you taking the time to share this experience with me. Chronicling my adventures is one of my truest pleasures, and I hope by reading them it will inspire you to get out and have some of your own. Have a muy bueno night and, once again, thanks for being a part of this with me.

Love, Josh

Madrid Travel Guide: A gulp of Goya

2011-04-07T02:52:00.003-05:00

Hola Bloggy Friends,

On the walk around central Madrid

To begin our first full day in Madrid, we had breakfast at the Mercado de San Miguel, the same indoor market we visited when we first arrived in Spain. We found a great little frozen yogurt shop that sells a variety of handmade cereals soaked in fresh, organic leche (milk). I had granola infused with dried strawberries and fresh raspberries from a fruit stand around the corner. It was delicious.

Even though we were stuffed, it was hard to tear ourselves away from the aisles upon aisles of delicious foods to gawk at inside the market. Eventually, though, we did find the exit and set out on a orienting tour of Madrid that was laid out in our guidebook. It took us from the busy city block called Puerta del Sol to the regal Palacio Real de Madrid (Royal Palace). Along the way we got a taste of the history of Madrid, while making a mental note about what streets will get us where.

Walking through the city in the light of day helped verify our impressions that Madrid is a sprawling, world class city that's clean and bustling, but it doesn't quite possess the intriguing, old world charm we found in Barcelona and Granada. The one thing it does have going for it, though, is one hell of an art collection.

The rest of our afternoon was spent at the Museo Nacional del Prado, a sprawling complex that houses paintings by Spain's (and the world's) masters. While we're both more drawn to modern art, there's no denying the treasures held within the Prado. In the span of five hours we spent quality time with centuries-old paintings like Velasquez's much-copied Las Meninas, Raphael's stunning Portrait of a Cardinal and Bosch's frightful Garden of Earthly Delights. The museum also houses one of the world's largest collections of Francisco De Goya. By looking at his works, we were able to trace his life from the dutiful paintings of the family of Spain's King Charles IV to his more rebellious Third of May, 1808 to his depressing black period, which includes the disturbing Saturno. It was a thrilling experience. I think it's worth the trip to Madrid in itself. Unfortunately, the guards were strict about not letting guests take pictures, but I did manage to snap this tilted one of Las Meninas.

For dinner we went to a restaurant recommended by our guidebook called La Bola, a traditionally decorated, atmospheric restaurant that's been family owned since 1870. For our main course we shared the Cocido Madrileño, their specialty stew that's served in several different parts: First they bring out a bowl of yellow broth laden with thin noodles; second, a terracotta-like dish filled with potatoes, garbanzo beans and lamb; and finally, a helping of boiled cabbage to top it off. In regular life, I'm not much of a meat eater but I've definitely enjoyed the walk on the "wild" side I've allowed myself on this trip. The stew was mmm-mmm good.

From there we took a late-night stroll to see what the Palacio Real de Madrid looks like lit up at night. This Versailles-inspired palace is the next stop on our Madrid itinerary. I'm anxious to see it, especially considering we missed Versailles on our trip to Paris last year. I hope you can stop back by to check it out!

Hasta luego,

Josh

P.S. I went into the Prado ready to take some snapshots, but, as you can see in the video below, the guard only allowed me a couple of seconds before she shut me down ...

Madrid Travel Guide: A broke-down bus ride

2011-04-06T02:25:00.003-05:00

Hola Bloggy Friends,

Are we there yet?

Our journey from Granada to Madrid was marred with another bout of travelers misfortune. On the recommendation of several guidebooks, we decided to take a bus to Spain's capital city. It was supposedly cheaper and quicker than the one slow-moving train that goes there. Sounds like a win-win, right?

Well, everything was going swimmingly until we stopped at a halfway point for lunch. When we loaded back onto the bus something went wrong and it wouldn't start again. Being the only English speakers among the group of travelers, we had trouble figuring out what we were supposed to do next. Our circumstances began to look rosier when someone told us that another bus was taking some of the passengers to "something, something America." Embarrassingly, our first instinct was, "Oh, it's a bus for Americans!" Come to find out, it was going to Madrid's Intercambiador de Avenida de América — a station we didn't have tickets to. I told Alan that it's just like a bunch of Americans to think a magical bus appeared across the parking lot just for us.

We ended up squatting at the rest area for an hour before another bus came to pick us up. After stopping several times along the way for a passenger who either had a bladder problem or explosive diarrhea, we finally made it to Madrid after a seven-hour trip. I have to say, though, that it didn't feel like it took that long. We made the most of our time by people watching, reading up on Madrid and playing mind-numbing games on our iPhones. In all honesty, with all the running around we've done, it's been one of the most restful days yet. There's a positive side to everything ...

Paella de Arroz Negro

Because it was much later than we anticipated arriving, we decided to put off our orientation tour until the next day. Instead we had a filling dinner at Museo del Vino that consisted of ensalada del casa (salad of the house), paella de arroz negro (black rice paella with clams, shrimp and squid) and a nice bottle of Tempranillo.

Stuffed, we took an after-dinner stroll around Puerta del Sol, the neighborhood we're staying in. Our first impression of Madrid is that it's a lively, more modern city — with full sidewalks even on a Tuesday night and newer facades compared to the historic ones we've grown accustomed to seeing. We noted that we didn't even pass one church, which is bizarre coming from towns with a basilica on every corner. There's still a lot to see, though. And we're looking forward to taking as much of it in as possible. Our first-day itinerary includes an orientation walk and a tour of the Museo del Prado, one of Europe's finest collections of art dating from the twelfth to nineteenth centuries. We're most excited to see what's considered to be one of the greatest paintings in the world — one that I mentioned earlier — Velázquez's Los Meninas.

Hasta luego,

Josh

Our much-needed Tempranillo

Granada Travel Guide: Our tales of the Alhambra

2011-04-05T02:26:00.004-05:00

Buenos Dias Bloggy Friends,

Yesterday was one of those days when everything seemed to line up right. We awoke from a peaceful snooze, had a delicious desayuno (breakfast) in a Parisian-style cafe on Gran Via and spent the afternoon skimming markets for items to make a picnic at Alhambra — our planned full-day destination.

Alhambra, an expansive area of castles, fortresses and gardens, sits on a hill high above Granada. Moorish sultans built the complex in the fourteenth century and it's where they held court until defeated by the Christian forces of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabel in the late 1400s. At that point, the victorious royal couple moved in, incorporating a few frills of their own.

To get there, most people take a bus from Granada's Old Town, but we thought we'd get more out of the experience by hiking up. Surprisingly, the trek — a path shaded by trees and flanked with shrubs — was quick and fairly simple to make. Once through the gates, we began our tour with a stroll through the lush gardens, an old Moorish bath and Alcazaba, a gutted fort with stunning lookout points. Running throughout most of the grounds is a complicated series of waterways that supply agua to Alhambra's numerous fountains. This constant sound of trickling water provides calming ambient noise as you wind your way through well-manicured hedges and lattices cloaked with fragrant flowers. It was dreamy.

Court of Myrtles in Palacios Nazaries

When it was time to rest our busy feet, we unpacked our picnic on a brick wall shielded by a row of bushes. Our humble feast included grapes, kumquats, a bocadillo (bread topped with tomato and cheese), a sampling of jamón ibérico (ham from a pig fed nothing but acorns) and, of course, a bottle of vino rioja. It was a welcome respite from a full afternoon of foot-on-pavement and the obnoxious horde of tour groups we had to keep dodging. And, by avoiding the over-priced Alhambra cafés, it saved us a few euros, too!

The final and best part of our Alhambra experience was Palacios Nazaries — the grand Moorish palace that was eventually occupied by Ferdinand and Isabel. While the latter definitely made structural changes to suit their fancy, the Islamic influence — evident in the arched entryways, ornate stucco ceilings and slick, colorfully-tiled walls — is undeniable. Here we wandered through the maze of airy rooms, passing by the spot where Columbus propositioned Isabel to fund his adventure across the Atlantic, and several outdoor gardens made up of reflective pools and abundant plant life. Alan, in particular, had a serious moment surrounded by a garden of shrubs shaped to create a maze of geometric patterns. It was sweet.

Feeling a little romantic after the experience, we strolled hand in hand down the hill back toward Granada, where we popped into a bar for wine and tapas. Today we catch a bus back to our starting point, Madrid, where we'll stay until Saturday. It's hard to believe we still have a whole other city to explore; it feels like we've been away forever. Like our previous trips, though, we really start to hit our stride during the second week. So mosey on back to see what Spain's capital city has in store for us!

Hasta luego,

Josh

Granada Travel Guide: Savoring culture shock

2011-04-04T03:13:00.002-05:00

Hola Bloggy Friends,

Patting pussies

Our Granada arrival was tons more pleasant than the last experience. We left Caravaca early in the morning, cruised down a sleepy highway and dropped the car off near the airport so we wouldn't chance crazy city driving again. It worked like a champ.

Our first stop was Macià Basilios, our hotel located within a monastery of the same name. From there we set out to explore Granada's Old Town. Right off the bat, we could feel the city's vibrant energy. The streets were bustling with carousers, and the cafés and public plazas were alive with squatters, street performers and waiters rushing plates of tapas from one crowded table to the next. Coming from lazy Caravaca, we were practically drooling over the excitement.

On our first day was all about orienting ourselves. We perused Alcaiceria (pronounced al-kay-thay-REE-ah), a tight alley of shops that was once a Moorish silk market; popped inside the impressive Granada Cathedral; and dodged aggressive gypsy ladies trying to sell us expensive sprigs of rosemary. For me, the most intriguing thing about Granada is the city's strong Moroccan influence. If you wander only a few yards from the main thoroughfare, you can easily imagine that you've been transported to North Africa, with incense wafting through the air, locals donning flowy harem pants and eateries decorated like the inside of Genie's bottle. The culture shock is exhilarating. We celebrated with dinner at an authentic Moroccan restaurant called Arrayanes and sipped exotic teas in Tetería La Kasbah.

Isabel's crown and scepter

Our second day started with one of the highlights of my trip so far: a tour of the tomb of Queen Isabel and King Ferdinand in Capilla Real. Being one myself, I love a good queen, but I wasn't expecting to be as captivated by this experience. The hourlong visit not only afforded us access to their giant tombs but peeks at their caskets underneath, Isabel's crown, scepter and prayer book, and 30 or so pieces of her private art collection. For a female-oriented history buff like me, it's mind blowing to realize Queen Isabel actually toted this stuff around. And as morbid as it sounds, seeing her coffin made me feel all giddy inside.

Later, we set out on an exhaustive tour of what lies beyond Granada's main hub. First, we strolled through the Albaicín neighborhood, a bohemian district that's characterized by hilly cobblestone streets, hippie-run cafés and stellar views of downtown Granada and the Alhambra (we'll get to that later). Even further beyond that, Sacromonte is a still-thriving gypsy community with narrow alleys of sometimes-tattered, pueblo-style housing and restaurants run by feisty women who would do anything short of wrestling you to make you come in for dinner. High above the city, Sacromonte is known for the caves that can be seen dotting the surrounding hillside. For centuries, these little holes-in-the-hills have played home to homeless gypsies, wayfaring travelers and lots of feral cats. Meow.

Though it definitely encapsulates some European characteristics (think a mish-mash of Paris and the Haight-Ashbury), we feel like we've ventured into a magical little world that can't be found anywhere else on the continent. Dark-skinned Africans walking alongside pale-but-black-footed hippies; square, urban families sauntering past hecklers manning the fragrant Moroccan markets; and traditionally-draped Muslim men chatting with exasperated gypsy ladies who can't seem to pawn off that last handful of rosemary: These are the characteristics that make Granada my favorite stop so far — and we haven't even stepped foot on the Alhambra yet ... Stay tuned!

Love, Josh

Road Tripping in Spain: Caravaca de la Cruz

2011-04-02T06:32:00.003-05:00

Buenos Dias Bloggy Friends,

Getting oriented

For the next leg of our trip we wanted to experience a different side of Spain, so we jutted westward to Caravaca de la Cruz, a small mountain-hugged town located in the Murcia Region. The drive in was gorgeous — with grassy mountain ranges and orange plantations sprouting up all around us — but our arrival into Caravaca was a disaster. Like in Barcelona, I took a wrong turn that led us into an area of narrow streets full of cafés and locals walking their donkeys. There we were, bopping our big ass car over cobblestones, trying our best to squeeze around corners that would suffocate a Smart Car. I was about an inch from throwing my trembling hands up and abandoning the vehicle on the spot.

And then, when we thought it couldn’t get worse, we came to a café with tables and chairs lined up out front. Poor Alan had to walk in and beg the waitress, who didn’t speak a lick of English, to move the tables so we could get past. Thankfully, she obliged and we finally made our way to a normal street where we parked that son of a bitch in the first spot we could find.

At the Basilica

Feeling a little defeated, we made our way to Hotel Central where we unloaded our belongings and set out to see what Caravaca de la Cruz was all about. What we found is that it’s an extremely religious town, built around the Basilica of the Santisima y Vera Cruz, which houses the almighty Caravaca Cross. It is purported that this bejeweled relic — delivered to the city by angels — is made from the cross on which Christ was crucified. Surrounding the church is a labyrinth of tiny, terra-cotta-roofed homes, a dozen or so other churches and a main drag called Gran Via where the locals go to mingle.

For the two nights we were there, we spent our time roaming alleyways, touring churches and, of course, sampling the food and wine of the region. What stood out for us were the desserts. Alan particularly loved the Yemas, a local delicacy made from egg yolks and served dipped in chocolate or caramel. We’ve definitely eaten well since we’ve been away and, yes, Bill, we drank enough wine and espresso to make you take a second look.

Popping a squat

For us, Caravaca de la Cruz is about as off-the-beaten-path as it gets. Besides religious-types who come to worship at the cross, there doesn’t seem to be much of a tourist presence, so no one speaks English. We had to rely on what little Spanish we know and universal hand gestures, which made for more than a few uncomfortable situations. And because it’s such a teeny, everybody-knows-everybody town, we felt like we stuck out like sore thumbs. By the end of the trip, though, we started to see familiar faces and began to feel like a part of the goings on. A few people even stopped ask how we were doing ... at least I think that's what they were asking.

While I’m glad we had a chance to experience this aspect of Spanish living, I have to admit that I’m more than ready to move on to a more thriving, cultured metropolis. Granada, here we come!

Adios!

Josh

Road Tripping in Spain: Montserrat and Peníscola

2011-03-31T04:22:00.002-05:00

Hi Bloggy Friends,

Trying to figure out the car thing

On our last morning in Barcelona we took a train to Estació Sants to pick up our rental car: a very European Citroën Picasso. I thought the bells and whistles of vehicle operation would be similar to what it is in the U.S., but I was a wrong. Sure, you still have to push the gas and keep your hands at 10 and 2, but instead of “D” for “Drive” there’s an “A” for I have no idea what; to start the car you have to have the gearshift in neutral and press the gas; and to park you have to push a “P” button in the middle of the dashboard. It took us a minute to get all of that figured out, but the real challenge was still before us. Driving within the city limits was a mess. We missed turns, got caught in detours and were told by our GPS to turn the wrong way down a one-way street. Thankfully, though, we did make it out in once piece — unless you count my poor shattered nerves. Once we got on the interstate, though, the experience was no different than being in the States.

La Moreneta

Our first stop was Montserrat, a Benedictine monastery built on the side of a monstrous serrated mountain — hence the name. There we toured a glitzy chapel and touched the orb of the Black Virgin (La Moreneta), a wooden statue believed to have been carved by St. Peter and later discovered in a nearby cave by shepherd children. It was a beautiful day and the views from the smooth-sided mountain were spectacular and a little frightening, considering we were 2,400 feet in the air. This place is definitely not for those afraid of heights. The only way to get to the top is to drive on a shockingly narrow series of switchbacks or catch a ride on a funicular. We chose the former.

On the beach in Peníscola

From Montserrat we drove two hours down the Mediterranean coast to a seaside resort town called Peníscola (pronounced pay-niece-co-lah), where we parked and crashed for two nights in a room at Hotel Marina. The main attraction in Peníscola is a giant fortress built by Pope Benedict XIII (aka Papa Luna) in the fourteenth century. Surrounding the stone structure is a shore town full of restaurants, cafes, bars and rental properties run by the few locals that live in the area. This is definitely a town that exists on tourism dollars — full of hotels and shops geared for travelers. Apparently we just missed the wave of vacationers, though, because many businesses were closed or busy preparing for the imminent wave of tourists coming for Easter. On the downside, this meant that it was harder to find good restaurants. But on the upside we practically had the whole town to ourselves, which may sound snoozy to some but we thoroughly enjoyed the break from lines and crowds.

We spent our time site-seeing the palace and learning about the history of the craggy peninsula on which it sits. We had dinner in the few restaurants that were open and spent leisurely time strolling and lying on the empty beach. Peníscola is unlike any other European experience I’ve had — being a small, little-known beach town. The weather was sunny and oh-so-clear, so the views of the blue ocean stretching before us were out of this world. It was a pit stop well worth it.

Have a great night.

Love, Josh

Barcelona Travel Guide: Feeling Gaudi

2011-03-29T04:19:00.003-05:00

Hola Bloggy Friends,

On the roof of Casa Milà

Picasso isn't the only great artist celebrated in Barcelona. In fact, compared to architectural visionary Antoni Gaudi, his presence is minimal. Gaudi, whose name the English word "gaudy" originates from, made a name for himself designing outlandish structures throughout the city that are made up of whimsical shapes and forms that may look like tacky multicolored ice cream cones, but in fact, are scientifically thought out and shockingly ahead of his time.

To see for ourselves what all the hoopla is about, we devoted our final full day in Barcelona to a tour of some of his most famous works — most of which are situated in the busy Eixample (pronounced eye-sham-plah) neighborhood. We started at the guidebook-recommended Casa Milà, an eccentric apartment building that was built between 1905 and 1912. The tour included a peek into one of the large, tastefully decorated apartments, cave-like attic and peculiar rooftop decorated with what appears to be Stormtrooper heads on spikes and huge dollops of soft serve. What we learned along the way, though, was that Gaudi drew his inspiration from nature – particularly things from the sea like conch shells and sand dollars. It was tacky as all get out, but fascinating, nonetheless.

Sagrada Familia's sanctuary

From there we headed to one of Barcelona's top destinations, looming Sagrada Familia. We've seen a lot of churches on our trips to Europe, but I can honestly say none of them compare to this one. Still incomplete, Sagrada Familia is Gaudi's shining achievement, looking like a church from outer space. The outside is flanked with Modernist figures telling the story of Jesus's life, from Nativity to Passion. The sanctuary is insanely futuristic, with slick columns reaching hundreds of feet in the air and vibrant stain glass windows punctuating the space with lasers of color. I felt like I was walking around in a space ship. With it's unconventional, playful design, it's unlike anything I've ever seen but hoped could be. If you come to Barcelona and only have one thing to do, this is it. Hands down. I have a tip for you, though: buy tickets online HERE. You can pick them up at one of several ServiCaixa stations located all over the city. Believe me, you'll love zooming by the line to get in. We didn't have to wait one second.

Already won over by Gaudi's genius, we decided to cap the day off in Parc Güell, a 30-acre garden that he envisioned to be an otherworldly gated community for Barcelona's elite. And while the upscale housing project was never fully recognized, the hilly landscape is still speckled with ceramic fountains and benches, intriguing pathways of jagged stone columns and houses that look like they were made out of gingerbread. It's a grassy wonderland that reminds me of a magical version of San Francisco's Twin Peaks. Feeling adventurous, we hiked to the park's highest point where we watched the sun set behind the best views of Barcelona we've seen so far.

Senses overloaded and feet achy, we bussed back to our hood for dinner. We stopped in a vegan cafe called Cat Bar where we munched on homemade veggie burgers while finalizing plans for the next leg of our trip — a five-day road trip to Granada!

See you along the way, amigos.

Love, Josh

Barcelona Travel Guide: Absorbing the city's spirit

2011-03-28T05:33:00.004-05:00

Hola Bloggy Amigos,

Infanta Margarita María

Today we decided to get to know our neighborhood better by sticking to the side streets that zigzag around us. Our first stop was one of my favorite experiences so far, the Museo Picasso. This modern complex within an old stone building houses an impressive collection of the artist's work from his early teens through the 1970s. There's nothing super famous here, but it's fascinating to see the talent he had as a young person living in Spain, and witness his progression to Cubism in the early part of the century. Our favorite part was his comprehensive studies of Velázquez's Las Meninas. This included around 20 mostly colorful, abstract interpretations of the famous painting. I loved seeing the characters all cubed up; he spent a lot of time on the girl in the center (pictured right), particularly.

Arc de Triumf

Running in conjunction with the permanent exhibit was "Vinye tes al Front," a gallery of artist sketches made in response to the wave of dictatorship plaguing World War II Europe. The pieces — mostly cartoon caricatures of Fascist rulers — tied in with Picasso's Guernica and Dream and Lie of Franco. Made up of disfigured horse heads, twisted, agonized faces and dismembered body parts, both pieces grotesquely represent his feelings about the death and destruction that was happening in Fascist Spain. To drive the feeling home, there were photographs depicting bloated animal carcasses, widows crying over dead husbands and bloody children lined up in rows, all victims of a recent air raid. It's frightening to realize something like that happened less than a century ago.

In our short time here, we've already seen that Barcelona is still rife with remnants of Franco's rule — both in the war-torn facades and, more refreshingly, symbols of Barcelona's rebellious spirit that helped bring that asshole down. The rest of the afternoon included a stroll through the Gothic Santa Maria del Mar church and Parc Ciutadella where we posed under one of those symbols of freedom, the Arc de Triumf. Viva España!

Love, Josh

Picasso's Las Meninas

Barcelona Travel Guide: Braving the tourist meccas

2011-03-27T05:35:00.005-05:00

Hola Bloggy Friends,

Our Spanish window

This morning we started our day with the customary bowl of oatmeal and yogurt, and a steamy cup of coffee. We love having a kitchen to be able to avoid the cost of buying breakfast every day. Thankfully, it's equipped with all the dishes, silverware and coffee-making apparatuses we need.

With the help of our guide book, we decided to take a tour of the Barri Gòtic, or the Gothic section of Barcelona. This included the busy city square, Plaça de Catalunya, and a stroll down Avinguda Portal de el'Angel — both too touristy for my taste. The highlight, for me, was a tour of the ornate Catedral de Barcelona, which was built around the sarcophagus of Barcelona's patron saint, Eulalia, a thirteen-year-old girl who was tortured and murdered by Romans because of her Christian beliefs. This is also the site where six Native Americans were baptized when they came to Spain with Christopher Columbus.

In Buenas Migas

After stopping for a mid-day snack and wine at Focacceria Buenas Migas, we braved the Ramblas, a 1.2 kilometer stretch of street littered with clothing stores, patisseries and souvenir shops. Talk about touristy. Every guide book and video says this is the place to go in Barcelona, but I thought it was downright terrible. With tour groups shoving past us, street performers yapping for our attention and little old ladies reaching for a euro, it reminded me of my least favorite part of every major city – think Times Square, Fisherman's Wharf or the Champs-Élysées.You kind of have to do it at least once, though. Right?

One respite from the cheesiness was an open-air market called La Boqueria. If you're counting size, this thing makes Philly's Reading Terminal look puny. It seemed like there was a dozen of every kind of store — from bakeries, to delis to produce stands. It was so colorful and fascinating to see, and the food looked fantastic. Too bad we were still full from lunch.

At Somorrostro

To get far away from Barcelona's tourist haven, we took a cab to the upper peaks of Montjuïc, where we drooled over the view of Barcelona from the Castell de Montjuïc, an ominous fortress built to stifle citizen revolts in the 17th and 18th centuries, and it served as an execution spot during Franco's reign. Afterwards, we worked our way down the garden-laden hill to see an awe-inspiring water and light show at Font Màgica. It was an ideal spot to watch the sun disappear before returning home to ready ourselves for din-din.

We went to a restaurant called Somorrostro in the beach side Barceloneta neighborhood. We thought we'd be cool and arrive late like the locals, but when we got there everyone was finishing up and we ended up closing the place down! Our meal was delicious, and quite fancy without having to pay froofy prices. Alan had a duck dish surrounded by a variety of complementary compotes and sauces, and I had a white fish served on a trio of flavorful rices. The food we've had so far has been fantastic, and the wine even better. I'll have to start keeping an eye out for Spanish wines when I get back home.

Besides sounding grumpy about some of the touristy places we saw today, I really am smitten with Barcelona. It's like God took the best grit of Rome, mixed in a little elegance from Paris and added a bucketful of Spanish flair. We're so excited to see what's next.

Have a great day, Bloggy Friends. I'll chat with you mañana.

Josh

Trip to Spain: Flying and Arriving

2011-03-26T05:51:00.000-05:00

Buenos Noches, Bloggy Friends,

We made it to Madrid safe and sound this morning at 7 a.m. The plane ride was nice, especially considering I was woozed up on a cocktail of Adavan, three glasses of wine and Ambien. Not surprisingly, I got off the plane feeling a little off-kilter — kind of like if you had a wine hangover and decided to go for a spin on the Tilt-a-Whirl. I managed to stay on my own two feet, though, as we made the trek through Madrid's modern airport to customs.

From MAD, we hopped on a snazzy-looking yellow bus that took us to the Atocha train station in the Barrio de las Letras area of Madrid. Once we oriented ourselves within the station and put our luggage in lockers, we went out to do some exploring before our 1:30 p.m. train to Barcelona.

Our first taste of Madrid was lovely. We curved through narrow alleyways, perusing some of the modern shops situated within ornate, old-world looking facades. The area was buzzing with a mish-mash of toursists and locals alike, and we did our best to absorb the exciting street culture. We stopped for a light lunch in a cafe serving huevos (eggs), which is exactly what I wanted to soak up the queasiness in my tummy. It helped a little.

When the time came, we went back to the station to catch our high speed AVE train to Barcelona. The ride was heavenly. There was much more leg room than what we had on our cramped U.S. Airways flight, and I took advantage of my leftover Ambien wooze to catch a quick siesta.

Once in Barcelona, where the gorgeous Gothic architecture had me breathless from the word go, we headed straight to our apartment in the eclectic El Born neighborhood. Rented on AirBnB, our flat is a striking artist's studio with paintings lining the room and a whole wall adorned with refurbished shutters. We're in a great area, too, surrounded by a ton of hip restaurants, bakeries and cafes. The guys we rent from have studios all over the city. If you come and want to look them up, you can contact them at Aleluya Barcelona.

For our first night we had tapas at a restaurant called Bastaix and attended an art exhibit opening in a studio under our flat. Barcelonians are famous for being night owls but after a full day of jet settin', we're too pooped to hang with the locals tonight. Thanks for stopping by to see how we're doing so far. Be sure to check my Facebook page for more photos.

Adios,

Josh

Trip to Spain: The Prelude

2011-03-23T09:00:00.001-05:00

Hola Bloggy Friends,

Tomorrow, Alan and I are taking off for a two-week trip to Spain. Our plan is to fly into Madrid, immediately train to Barcelona, drive down the Mediterranean coast — stopping for a few days in Peñíscola, Caravaca De La Cruz and Granada, respectively — and finally make our way back to Madrid. We're super excited for this trip because we've planned several first-time experiences:

This is the first time we've been to Europe in March/April
This is the first time we've rented a car and driven in Europe
This is the first time we've kept our itinerary within one country
And, at 16 days, it's the longest stretch of time we've vacationed there

To get prepared, we've done online research, read guidebooks (thanks, Laurie Buler Nunez) and watched a few travel vids. In fact, we did so much planning in the beginning that we haven't thought much about it in the past few weeks — unless you count the occasional "I can't wait to eat a churros!"

But now the day is upon us, and we're chomping at the bit to take off. While we're gone I'll keep my blog updated with photos and write-ups about what we're up to, so feel free to stop by for a peep. From now on, I plan to use this space to write about the trips we take. These are the experiences that bring me some of my biggest joys, and being able to share them makes it that much more meaningful. I would also love to hear from you if you have recommendations about what we should do while we're in Spain. We've done a lot of reading, but nothing compares to getting advice from someone who's been there and done that.

Thanks for stopping by today. I'll see you in España!

Buenos días,
Señor Josh

Day Trip to Gettysburg

2010-07-29T11:53:00.005-05:00

Hi Bloggy Friends,

This weekend Alan and I drove to Gettysburg to meet our friends Bill and Gary. They drove up from Washington D.C. so we could all spend the day celebrating Bill's birthday (July 27). Our plan was to spread a blanket and have a lovely picnic in the park, but a storm moved in almost as soon as we were about to take our first bites. And it wasn't just any storm, either. The rain gushed down and the wind whipped our prissy asses all over that battlefield. We even began to contemplate a tornado plan, you know, just in case.

Needless to say, we had to move the festivities inside Gary's Volvo, which would have been extremely roomy if we didn't have to share the space with an oversized picnic basket, a cooler and Bill's monstrous hat, which, minus the net, must have been made to fend off bees in the buzziest of honey hives.

It was all good, though, because we were in the presence of good friends, a couple of bottles of wine and an impressive spread of grub. Bill and Gary brought homemade samosas, a bowl of hummus and a container full of blueberries and strawberries. We contributed homemade salmon salad, rice crackers and a variety of crudités for the hummus.

In the midst of wine-induced giddiness we realized the rain had subsided considerably. So Gary, who had not been drinking, threw the car in drive and carted us around the grounds. When the rain completely stopped we parked to see some of it on foot. Gary, who is very well versed in history, led us on an informative tour of landmarks like the National Cemetery where Lincoln delivered the Gettysburg address, Seminary Ridge, Little Round Top and Devil's Den, where our birthday girl ran into a conundrum climbing out of the rocks (see video).

When the sun began to set we walked into the town of Gettysburg to have dinner at a quaint Revolutionary-era restaurant called Dobbin's Tavern. It's a delightful old eatery that's ripe with history. Over dinner we learned that it was a spot on the Underground Railroad. Click on the link if you're interested in learning more.

I hope you have a great night. Happy Birthday, Bill. I love you!

Love, Josh

Movie Queue: Silkwood (1983)

2010-07-26T11:08:00.002-05:00

Hi Bloggy Friends,

I had a full circle moment when I finished watching Silkwood, the fifth or sixth movie in my slow going Meryl Streep Movie Marathon. Without realizing it until the end, the final scene is one that I sometimes recall from my childhood. I caught a glimpse of it one night when I crawled into the living room past my bedtime to sneak some grown up TV time with my mom.

The film, which is based on a true story, gets off to a great start. I screamed out loud when the opening credits revealed that Cher was in it, too. Cher and Meryl in the same movie? There had to be a gay behind this one. Anyway...

Karen Silkwood (Mama Meryl) lives with her boyfriend Drew (Kurt Russell) and her lesbian bestie Dolly (Cher). Everyday they squeeze into their jalopy to commute to Kerr-McGee, the Oklahoma plutonium plant where they are employed. At work she flirts and cuts up with her hick colleagues, goes home at night to puff a reefer and the next morning she playfully bitches about what a slob lesbo Dolly is. The genuine and humorous character interaction is one of my favorite parts of the film.

Things start to go sour, though, when people at the plant begin getting ill from the chemicals they're handling. My mood went from amused to disturbed when tainted employees were ushered down the hall like crazy people to be scrubbed until their skin was red as Christmas. At this point a fire is lit under Karen's ass as she becomes passionately involved with a scheme to expose the company's careless ways. She better watch her back, though, because those skeevy higher-ups don't mess around.

I was really into the film until Karen started sneaking around the plant and flying to Washington D.C. to tell her secrets to big time reporters. Of course, this is pertinent to the plot but this is when it seemed to drag on without getting down to the point. Plus, the character interaction was so enjoyable that it was a buzz kill to see things turn so serious. Meryl can't go wrong, though. Her hillbilly accent is right on point (take a hint Sandra Bullock) and she looks fabulous in her reddish-brown mullet that would today seem oh so hip.

Cher is great too. She was actually nominated for a Best Supporting Actress Oscar for her performance. Her accent is believable and, come on, she's just fun to watch. My favorite part is when she takes up with a moody girlfriend played by none other than Diana Scarwid. That's right, homos, that's the same actress who played Christina in Mommie Dearest. I tell you, the gays made this movie.

I recommended this film if you are a homosexual (especially lesbian), liked Norma Rae starring Sally Field or Erin Brockovich starring Julia "teeth" Roberts.

I would not recommend it if you have A.D.D. or if you're wigged out by creepy shower scenes.

Thanks for stopping by to read my first movie review column. If you've seen something recently, new or old, and want to share your thoughts, feel free to email me a brief review of your own. I'll post it on my blog and share it with the world on Facebook and Twitter. I'd love to hear what you have to say.

Have a great night.

Love, Josh

Page Turners: The House of Mirth (1905)

2010-07-23T10:43:00.003-05:00

For the past year I've been working my way up Modern Library's list of 100 Best Novels. It's been a great way to catch up on of the classics I've always wanted to read, but never quite got around to. I thought it would be fun to share my experience with you by offering a smidgen of a review in a column I'll call Page Turners. Below you'll discover my first installment. Thanks for stopping by!

Hi Bloggy Friends,

I recently finished reading The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton, a novel about the inner-workings of high society life in turn-of-the century New York. In it she brings to life a time when grown women received an allowance (if they were lucky) and the closest thing to email was a calling card left at the door with someone's maid.

The protagonist, Lily Bart, reminds me of a slightly modernized, extremely Yankee-fied Scarlett O'Hara. She's a sympathetic, yet calculated individual who knows how to work a crowd. But unlike her uppity friends, she can't hold onto a penny to save her life. Instead, she flits from upstate summer home to Fifth Avenue, utilizing only her God-given good looks and unflappable charm to ride the coattails of New York's powerful and privileged.

Edith Wharton

Her main goal? To procure everlasting security and position in the generous embrace of an affluent husband. At first it seems indubitable that things will go her way, but as the story twists and turns she makes unwise decisions, finding herself in the midst of a sultry scandal that just may ruin her forever.

To me, Wharton's grandiose use of language causes the text to lull in spots. Perhaps it's my attention span, but when she gets too wordy I tend to drift. I've found this show of vocabulary is common among writers of that time period. The story is more than redeemed, however, in her riveting use of dialogue. There were moments of conversation that transported me to the dimly lit parlors and stately gardens where much of the story takes place. I was on the edge of my pillow as Lily charmed her way around one intensely uncomfortable situation to the next. Her allure explodes from the text. Just like many of the men she encounters, you'll end up falling head over heels in love.

I recommended this book if you enjoyed A Room with a View by E.M. Forster or The Magnificent Ambersons by Booth Tarkington.

I do not recommend this book if you despise looking up words in the dictionary as you read or if you prefer fairy tale endings...

Have a great night.

Josh

Thanks for stopping by to read my first review. Last night I began reading Main Street by Sinclair Lewis, so come back in a few several weeks to see my thoughts on that. Oh, and if you've read or seen something recently and have a desire to share with the world, feel free to send me a review. I'll post it on my blog and blast it on Facebook and Twitter. It'll be a nice way to bond with other readers and to compile a hefty list for the literarily curious to stop by and read. You can email me at justjoshfunk1@gmail.com. Thanks!

Brussels Travel Guide: The Grand Finale

2010-07-13T16:24:00.000-05:00

Hi Bloggy Friends. This is the last of my "Trip to Europe" posts. Thank you so much for coming by to read and watch the videos I've put together. Going back over the footage has been tons of fun for me. I hope you've enjoyed the retrospective. So, without further adieu, here's la grande finale:

Hi Bloggy Friends,

Well, as much as I hate to type it, this is our last full day in Europe. We're not going to sit around moping about it all day, though. We still have so much more of Brussels to see.

As I mentioned before, this is a bustling, industrial city. The charm isn't as easily found in ornate architecture and lush gardens, but in the grimy neighborhoods that are home to people from all over the world. Much of the diversity has to do with the fact that Brussels is the capital of the European Union.

We began our excursion heading uphill from the Grand Place toward Little Africa. On the way we picked up a few souvenirs at a lively street market that had everything from paintings to jewelry and everyday figurines to exotic African trinkets. It looked like someone had wandered into some of the world's best granny attics and poured all the awesomeness on the street for us to buy. Most of the items were available at a pretty decent price. I wish we had more room in our suitcases.

Continuing uphill our surroundings turned from gritty to regal as we strolled into the vicinity of the Place Royale. Here we acted like fools, skipping freely around the ridiculously immense Palace of Justice and devoured a Belgian waffle in the Parc de Bruxelles. Instead of getting a touristy waffle with whipped cream and strawberries piled on top, we opted for a plain one. It was a deliciously gratifying choice; so warm, gooey and sweet. Kind of like a funnel cake but less lard-y. We've eaten really well here.

We spent a few more hours checking out sites like Notre Dame du Sablon Church and the Place du Petit Sablon, which is a garden surrounded by ten statues of Brusselian scientists, poets and other intellectuals from the 16th century. Alan's favorite was the sculpture of Gerardus Mercator, a Belgian mapmaker who he says "devised a map that would accurately display the spherical Earth on a 2D piece of paper." I didn't have a particular favorite, but I thought the park was lovely.

We had dinner at a Thai restaurant in a trendy, gayish part of town called Place Saint-Gèry. We also spent some time at a festive street party that resembled Philadelphia's artsy First Friday events in Old City. We stopped into some of the stores, but we mostly played the role of spectators. It was refreshing to see a hint of something that connects Europe with the place we call home.

It was late before we finally forced ourselves to wander back to the apartment to pack and ready ourselves for the return home. I'm SO not ready to leave.

Love, Josh

Bruges Travel Guide: The Perfect Day Trip

2010-07-10T11:39:00.003-05:00

Hi Bloggy Friends,

We only have a few days in Brussels but today we decided to follow the advice of our guide books and take a day trip to Bruges (pronounced brooj). Located within an hour's train ride from Brussels, Bruges is a small, medieval town in northwest Belgium. When we arrived we threw open our map and set out to see as much of the city on foot as we could in one little ol' day.

Our first impression of Bruges is that it's a city driven by tourism. It's beautiful and genuine in so many ways, but there's a tinge of kitcsh that reminds me of Gatlinburg or Pigeon Forge, Tennessee. That may sound atrocious to some of you, but we did our best to bypass the cookie cutter chocolate, lace and frites shops to discover what happens in Bruges when all the sightseers go home.

Acting on the lessons we learned in Amsterdam, Alan and I began by taking side streets. On our way we visited some of the more frequented places, like the serene Béguinage, the Church of Our Lady and the Basilica of the Holy Blood, where we placed our hands and said a prayer over a vile that supposedly contained Jesus' blood. But the true magic began to unfold when we were at a distance from the heart of the city.

Out in the residential area of Bruges I was mesmerized by the beautiful homes lining the endless system of canals. These were some of the most beautiful sights I'd seen so far on our trip. We crossed stone bridges, skipped down cobblestone paths and sneaked a smooch or six on park benches hidden in layers of trees and flowers and sunshine. It was heartwarming. We found the magic.

For dinner we stopped in a tiny neighborhood pub where we had wine, fish and pasta. From there we sauntered back to the train station and caught the last train to Brussels - with about two bag fulls of that cookie cutter chocolate in tote, no less (wink).

Have a great night. Stop by soon for a full report of our very last day in Europe. Boohoo.

Love, Josh

Brussels Travel Guide: A "Grand" Arrival

2010-07-05T15:05:00.000-05:00

Hi Bloggy Friends,

This morning we tore ourselves out of bed early enough to catch a mid-afternoon train to Brussels. With our Euro-Pass in tote, we effortlessly hopped on a car and were at our destination in less than three hours.

We didn't have luck finding an apartment in Brussels, so we decided on a chic, modernly-decorated hostel called 2Go4 (lobby pictured left). We didn't know what to expect moving into a boisterous hostel, but we were fortunately able to snag a private studio located on the top floor away from the dormitories. It's decorated with fun, colorful furniture and the ceiling slopes triangularly. Thankfully, there are windows on the roof, which, when opened, provide a more open, airy ambiance. We love it.

Our living quarters are situated in the heart of downtown Brussels, which makes it easy to see most sites on foot. The first item on our agenda was to try a Belgian beer. Being nescient about the world of suds, I did some research on the subject prior to arriving. That's how I discovered lambic. For those of you who don't know, lambics are fermented with different fruits to give them a lighter, less beer-y taste. They come in a variety of flavors, such as framboise (rasberry), cassis (black currant) and pêche (peach). I tried a kriek, which was blended with cherries. The taste was light, almost champagne-like, and intensely flavorful. I loved it, but I can see how true beer drinkers may not consider it a "real" beer. Oh well, it's the best I could do.

Located within a hop, skip and a jump of the bar was the Grand Place (pictured right), a luxurious, old world oasis that is perhaps Brussels' number one tourist stop . It was truly grand in every sense of the word. Looming all around us were immense, intricately-designed structures, like the Town Hall and the Breadhouse. Situated in-between were smaller Guildhalls, which house posh chocolate stores, frilly lace shops and bustling restaurants. It was a breathtaking experience.

Keeping with our sightseeing tour, we headed toward the little peeing statue called Manneken Pis. If we didn't know to look out for it, we probably would have passed right by. The no-frills fountain is located discreetly on a random street corner, but it's one of the city's most sought out attractions. On occasion, the little man is dressed in costumes sent from all over the world. Unfortunately, he was stark naked when we saw him but he's been costumed in all kinds of threads - once even decked out as the King himself, Elvis Pis-ley.

We had dinner at a fabulous Ethiopian restaurant called Kokob (pictured left) and stopped by one of the chocolate stores in the Grand Place before turning in for the night. We're excited to see what else Brussels has in store. Our first impression is that it is a grittier, more industrialized city than Paris or Amsterdam. Besides the vicinity immediately surrounding the Grand Place, the architecture is largely more contemporary and less ornate than what we've seen so far. I'm anxious to take in the new perspective.

Have a great night. I'll chat with you soon.

Love, Josh

Amsterdam Travel Guide: A Perfect Last Day

2010-07-01T15:37:00.003-05:00

Hello Bloggy Friends,

Since our first day here, Amsterdam has continued to grow on me. By now I'm head over heels in love and I'm not ready to leave.

To kick off our final day we headed out on bike in search of another food dish that came highly recommended: pannekoeken (pronounced pan-a-koo-ken). Pannekoeken is essentially a cross between a pancake and a crêpe. It can be prepared savory or sweet and is usually enjoyed in the morning. The restaurant we chose was unfortunately presided over by a pushy waiter, but the person in the kitchen was on their A-game. Our food was scrumptious. We each took the savory route, choosing a pannekoeken with eggs and ham. As you can probably tell in the picture to the left, it was an indulgently heavy meal, but perfect for the strenuous day we had ahead of us.

After some planning, Alan and I decided to take a bike trip outside of the city. Our first thought was Haarlem, but our landlord Daniel suggested we take a quicker, more pleasant route to a village called Durgerdam.

Durgerdam is a tiny seaside town that consists of a single mile-long street littered with adorable Dutch homes. We took that street past the town, which turned into a bike lane running parallel to the water. We rode for miles breathing in the fresh, salty air and listening to the mass of sea-dwelling birds flying all around. It was great.

On our way back to the city we took a detour through a peaceful village named Ransdorp. The people living here have it made, with canals flowing past their charming homes and a sense of separation from the hectic world. I wanted to sit there for hours, just soaking in the serenity. Sigh...

By the time we rolled back into the city we had worked up quite an appetite. We decided to walk to the Jordaan to try a soul food restaurant called Harlem Cafè. I had a flavorful veggie wrap thing-y and Alan had a big ol' plate of ribs. It was fantastic.

Amsterdam has been my favorite part of the trip so far. Our stay here was enhanced by an element of relaxation that we didn't choose to adopt to in Paris. Instead of running around like crazy trying to take in sites, we chose to sleep in, get lost on side streets, and take daytrips to get a feel for what's happening outside the city. That made for a perfect experience that will undoubtedly influence the way I travel for the rest of my life.

I hope you have a great night. Thanks for stopping by to read about Amsterdam. We still have one leg of the trip left - Belgium! We'll meet you there.

Love, Josh