The Last Day of Summer

Well, senior year starts tomorrow. I’ve had a pretty good summer. Good times all around. I’ve been back in DC for about a month now, working at my beloved Cowgirl Creamery and dispensing cheese to the rich and hungry. I always love summer for what it promises (swimming, walks, BBQ, etc.) but not what it costs (poison ivy, working in the heat, etc.). Above is the nice end of summer meal I made tonight for some guests. The chicken was fried in crushed corn flakes (crispy!); the pasta salad is tossed with carrot, bell pepper, shallot, parsley, basil; the artichoke was just boiled soft. I intended to do more with that ‘choke, but you can only do so much some times, you know?

Towards the end of this past week, a friend and I descended into Shenandoah National Park for a hike and overnight camping. We saw two black bear cubs and fantastic summer stars. The above picture is a view almost identical to what we enjoyed the first day. I used to go camping a lot more. I missed it — but frankly wondered if I would still enjoy it. But there are wonderful things that you can forget, like the raw feeling on your hands at the end of the trip.

And still, it’s even easier to forget that I was traveling around Europe at the beginning of summer. Today in CVS, a French girl asked me if all American notebooks were line ruled, and not squared like she was used to. “Sorry,” I said, “that’s not how they do it here.”

Photo of Shenandoah courtesy of flickr user PatrickMMoore.

Disposable Europe

We take pictures to supplement our visual memories. Aside from sheer artistic and aesthetic merit, no one needs convincing that pictures we take remind us of people, places, and things. I’ve heard that when we take pictures, it limits and focuses our memories, but it’s easy to give that up for the joy of fondly remembering something from a snapshot. Anyone who has ever had a camera stolen knows what a terrible feeling that can be. More after the jump.

A Paris Journal

Well I’m home. Bigger soda containers and even bigger automobiles. More culture shock reflections to come. Now, the first European post in retrospect. I’m going to try and hit the main places, though I may not go in order. Going to get my three disposable cameras developed soon.

As promised, here are my thoughts on Paris that I jotted down while I was there. I tried to get a “drawing” on each page. Almost. Sorry if you can’t read it, that’s my actual handwriting. Click to enlarge, more after the jump.

Madrid, Capital of Spain and Cool

I thought I published this back in Barcelona, after staying in Madrid for about a week and a half. Now I’m in Nice, and heading to Paris tomorrow, where the internet is 4 euros an hour, but stay tuned. For most of the time in Madrid, I stayed with my friend Molly in a quiet but convenient neighborhood called Embajadores. It was relaxing. I spent a lot of time in nearby Lavapies, a ethnically diverse and architecturally barrio. For the first couple of days, I couldn’t help comparing Rome, where no one would dream of there being an openly gay neighborhood like Madrid’s Cuerca, to the modern bustle of Spain’s capital. Indeed, I once again found myself in a “stand on the right, walk on the left” escalator city. Madrid has a better Metro system, more interesting fashion, and much more interesting nightlife. However, they have far more Starbucks, McDonalds, and Burger King. Still, the two countries have many of the same social problems. They are both plagued by high real estate prices, unemployment, and incapable governments. More after the jump.

Chump-less Checklist to Doing Rome: The Nitty Gritty

And now the Nitty Gritty, continuing from the Generalities:

One of my favorite places in the city is the Jewish Ghetto, which I already wrote a bit about in my post about the synagogue. But this little four block quadrant has a lot of genuine charm. For one, it has restaurants that serve the excellent “carciofi alla guidea” or Jewish style artichokes. There are also small delis to bop into for lunch, and because pork is not so kosher, they have cured beef similar to prosciutto that is amazing. Also, it has a lot of really awesome stenciled street art by c215 (above).

By all means, go see the Trevi Fountain; it’s beautiful. But listen, even in the non-tourist season, seeing it can be uncomfortable because of the mobs that gather around it. If you follow one piece of my advice about seeing Rome, take this one to heart: Go to it late at night. After midnight, there are only a few people around and it is beautifully lit. Throw in your coin over your shoulder and guarantee your eventual return to Rome. More golden nuggets of advice after the jump.

Berlin! Schiesse!

In the middle of our spring break trip, David and I traveled by train from Prague to Berlin. After crossing the border, the train came under the care of the incredibly organized Deutsche Bahn, our first experience with hyper modern Berlin. With more money than it knows what to do with, the city is now constantly rebuilding. Cranes are always up, and fellow travelers exclaimed that things looked different from even a year earlier.

We took one of the extremely popular free four hour tours of the city. As it was March, the tour was small and fast moving, and our guide was really good. I loved all the history, because it is almost entirely based in the 20th Century. It can be easily and logically divided into five periods: the German Empire (1871-1918), the Weimar Republic (1919-1933), the Third Reich (1933-1945), shared occupation (1945-1990), and the present era.

And in the present era, we found Berlin to be a nutz city with an insatiable party libido. It’s a younger city than New York with a lot of places that open at four in the morning. We spent most of our time in Mitte, an über-hip area with a lot of stores selling only one thing. Our hostel, based on Douglas Adam’s “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” was also in Mitte. We also walked along the longest stretch of the Berlin Wall still standing. As I mentioned before, Berlin is one of the most internationally famous locations of graffiti and street art, and we were not disappointed.

Walking this way lead us to Kreuzberg, a traditionally alternative section of town now home to hipsters priced out of Mitte. Both have an American Apparel however. It was a fun place to be, with a lot of interesting locales, and surprisingly great and inexpensive sushi.

Most interesting to me was the remnants of conflict between East and West Berlin. I didn’t realize it, but that wall was actually the last in series of protections aimed at keeping East Germans in. And once the wall, and its accompanying death strips, finally came down, there was still a strong mental barrier. It’s kind of unfathomable to Americans, but many did not support reunification. Now, the only physical indication of the barrier in many places are the stylized pedestrian crossing signals. I wish I had more time there, but for now, it’s an adequate introduction. As always, there’s a lot more detail in my pictures, dutifully uploaded to flickr.

“East Berlin can’t buy a thing, there’s nothing they can sell me/ walk through the wall no pain at all” — The Mekons