tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-90549752143144709152024-03-13T05:03:33.281+01:00Adventures in WeddingMorgan and Ursula have been married since March 2011.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.comBlogger95125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-81690460206896827802015-08-24T13:20:00.002+02:002015-08-25T20:17:59.887+02:00Coming Back ... I left off before in a pretty low spot. Living in California again was not a terrific situation for a number of reasons, and it's hard to think about the fun times of the past when you aren't having fun times in the present.<br />
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Now things have changed: Morgan got a year-long position at the University of Padova, which means we packed up our lives into a few suitcases again and flew off around the world. We have an apartment here now, and we have our dog here with us as well. We've been here since the beginning of May, and I am finally feeling a little settled.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjjUcD5NFx3OuCwCLXAmTwYhjTCueVyFqdhJGZjp4NiyinmqWGh6g6kWgUWyzgaz2NeZqmoU2UqoRHwWg0H8IYkTl2DQedUbIr-a2AcpouSQLFUjmU0IriDOQgtLN5z2SII3pt_swWJ0k/s1600/WP_20150509_002-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjjUcD5NFx3OuCwCLXAmTwYhjTCueVyFqdhJGZjp4NiyinmqWGh6g6kWgUWyzgaz2NeZqmoU2UqoRHwWg0H8IYkTl2DQedUbIr-a2AcpouSQLFUjmU0IriDOQgtLN5z2SII3pt_swWJ0k/s400/WP_20150509_002-sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from our balcony</td></tr>
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But before I get anywhere near talking about what life is like now that we're living in Italy, I want to revisit some of the old stories that I never told. It's been a ridiculously long time since we went to Naples (2 years, nearly!), but as I've finally been processing more and more of the photos, I realized that I want to explain some of them more than a blurb on Flickr or Facebook really can. I guess I'm just a sucker for telling stories.<br />
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So, my first foray into southern Italy. I remember coming out of the subway station and being a little overwhelmed at how it was going to be possible to cross the street - we were facing onto a small traffic circle, which sounds like it shouldn't be much of a problem, but it was really essentially circular mayhem. Scooters, taxis, regular cars, all creating multiple lanes and swerving around each other with no discernable pattern. We managed to get across, but it was a good glimpse at what it would be like the rest of the time. We arrived at night so I didn't get to see much right away, but in the morning I set out to explore.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Naples</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_1169904844">First off, standing outside the hotel, I looked up ... and up ... and up. Naples is a hilly city, and it seems like the buildings are just stuck everywhere to the hills. They seem almost like they must be flat - how can so many of them fit one behind the other? It's a crazy quilt of colors. Then I headed down toward the water, the Gulf of Naples.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixQaJHg2oUDgndLOO9N_40dKe1mOsTrLajQvtCAgYk9SaNzhEYrKChRGRw95FAByU9C4TLdyl99BMfUjKWxqSI725X7GvSnlDpxfGPJoZooKmdg4y6lQqMg5ctOsl8Rg4Np1KysEGOoXw/s1600/20131111-napoli+026-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixQaJHg2oUDgndLOO9N_40dKe1mOsTrLajQvtCAgYk9SaNzhEYrKChRGRw95FAByU9C4TLdyl99BMfUjKWxqSI725X7GvSnlDpxfGPJoZooKmdg4y6lQqMg5ctOsl8Rg4Np1KysEGOoXw/s400/20131111-napoli+026-sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Vesuvius</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_1169904844">Vesuvius is really omnipresent. It seems like every time you turn around, it's there, with a slightly different aspect presented to you. You wouldn't think that a mountain which isn't really all that tall or all that close would dominate the landscape the way it does. But it does, and it seems to have moods all its own.</span><br />
<span id="goog_1169904844"><br /></span>
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<span id="goog_1169904844">On this first day, the weather was really changeable. Sometimes the sun would beat down and it would become quite warm, then the sky would be full of giant, fast-moving clouds, then it would turn dark and rain would move through. But that also traveled fast.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The leading edge of rain blowing through</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forty-five minutes later</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_1169904844"> As a result, I saw a lot of people buying cheap umbrellas at the metro stations and later, a lot of abandoned umbrellas laying on the sidewalks. This is one thing about Naples, and I'm not going to sugarcoat it - it's dirty. Discarded umbrellas, bags of trash piled high, paper and all kinds of other garbage are just part of the landscape. And let's just say there doesn't seem to be a culture of picking up after your dog. But you quickly get used to watching where you step and don't think about it much, or at least I didn't. Naples is full of contradictions, and you can see many different faces of it just by keeping your eyes open and wandering. More on that later!</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-17139683995283531342014-07-27T03:46:00.000+02:002014-07-27T03:46:21.224+02:00On HiatusI mean, I have been on hiatus already. But I'm making it official now.<br />
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I know I didn't even get through the end of our time in Europe. I didn't post pictures from Padova and Venice the second time around, Vicenza, Verona, Pompeii, Naples, December in Gent.<br />
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Here's the truth: thinking about it kind of depresses me.<br />
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We've been in California since coming back from Belgium, and it's not been my favorite thing in the world. Seven months in an area of the state that is, politely speaking, not where I would choose to be.<br />
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So, in spite of having interesting stories to tell about November and December, I just don't feel like I can do it. In spite of Naples being one of the most awesome places I've visited, I don't really want to go through the photos or think about it too deeply right now.<br />
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Hopefully circumstances will change and I'll be able to feel more positive about it in the near future. In the meantime, though, I kept feeling like it was hanging over me because I hate leaving things just open-ended like I did here.<br />
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If you miss me, you can visit <a href="http://ursularodgersart.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">my art blog</a>, which I restarted on Blogger. I previously had one on Typepad, but that was a dying venue, so I just jumped ship.<br />
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Looking forward to a time when I will want to post about those last months. Till then, take care.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-54748864933903014132014-03-11T19:26:00.001+01:002014-03-11T19:26:36.730+01:00Third One's a CharmI started this blog to talk about Morgan's and my wedding, and beyond that, our life together. And that's what it's been about, although in the last year you might not have realized that, since it's mostly been about travel (which is what was happening in our life together, after all!). But this post is going to be about the other stuff again, since we just had our 3rd anniversary on March 5.<br />
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We have had some amazing times in the last year (the last three years, as well, but I'm going to just focus on this particular one for now), and I think we've appreciated every one of them. It was just under a year ago that we found out we were moving to Belgium for six months, and went through a flurry of activity, selling or packing all of our possessions. Then were off, and life was full of new things. Finally, at the beginning of this year, we found ourselves back in California. I admit, that all sounds pretty exciting. And it was.<br />
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But we've also had some seriously challenging times.The time before the job in Gent came through was tough. We were both pretty thoroughly sick of Denver, and things were financially difficult. Traveling to another continent with what will fit into suitcases and trying to make a home in another country is hard. That romantic ideal I mentioned above, of life being full of new things, is fun until you just want to shop at a grocery store where you understand what you're looking at. You just want to know where to get a decent meal, which bakery is open on Sundays, why places seem to close on a whim. You want to know which street to take without consulting a map every five minutes. Every minor thing becomes a decision that has to be made by <i>someone.</i><br />
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It's easy to take that sort of stress out on the only other person you know, and the only other one who speaks your language natively - your spouse. Although we both got frustrated and tired of things at times, I think we managed it very well, keeping in mind that we were both in the same situation and on the same team. ("Team We Are So Confused," often.) I've heard it said that taking a road trip with someone is a great test of your ability to work together, live together in confined spaces, be around each other for 24 hours a day, etc. Well, moving internationally is like the extreme sport edition of that.<br />
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All of which doesn't mean it was constantly difficult; obviously we eventually started knowing where things were, how to use the bus and tram system, how to decipher signs in Dutch. And we did a good amount of traveling in other places in Europe where we had to learn things all over again. But we were better at the process then, too. I don't want to give short shrift to the good times; I just think it's important to acknowledge the tough ones.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLYl-KlvmQ5bT99ql67WhwcB93LYqPmz0IxuYY3hhCTJZXp1fr6bz1v5aenEd1wN0UpZJAXwVrZSRBR0ZMmKpth1R5PfNsxeE2xRxrkVkn1pamk2P5mFeX66ON8WgaHaEJWqt0PmPJ4yc/s1600/luxembourg-morganursula-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLYl-KlvmQ5bT99ql67WhwcB93LYqPmz0IxuYY3hhCTJZXp1fr6bz1v5aenEd1wN0UpZJAXwVrZSRBR0ZMmKpth1R5PfNsxeE2xRxrkVkn1pamk2P5mFeX66ON8WgaHaEJWqt0PmPJ4yc/s1600/luxembourg-morganursula-sm.jpg" height="313" width="400" /></a></div>
That was in Luxembourg. It had been raining off and on all day, and we were lost. Or wait, I think when we took that picture, we weren't yet lost. But we were about to be! We ended up seeing more of Luxembourg than we would have otherwise. But hey, that's how life is, right? Happy accidents!<br />
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The point here is really this: it's been 3 years, and we're a better team than ever. Ups and downs have taught us a lot about ourselves. We've found the ways that work for us. They might not work for anyone else, they might not be what other people think we should do, but one of the best things about marriage is knowing that one other person, the most important person, really gets you. And if you've got that, what more do you really need?<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-84712462916508038902013-12-24T18:44:00.001+01:002013-12-24T18:44:35.125+01:00Christmas, Belgian StyleTime out on the other posts to interject a seasonally-themed one! <br />
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One huge difference between Europe and the US in the lead-up to Christmas is that instead of having malls full of decorations, European cities have Christmas markets. A bunch of wooden stalls pop up in the center of the city, along with rides and probably an ice-skating rink. We had hoped to get out of Belgium to see another one (the Germans are supposed to have amazing Christmas markets), but it didn't end up happening. Nevertheless, we managed to see the markets in Bruges and Brussels in addition to the one here in Gent.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On the Korenmarkt</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Auto-awesomed" by Google. Thanks, Google!</td></tr>
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That's Gent, done up in holiday splendor. Our market is kind of a small affair, spread out between three different squares. It's pretty easy to navigate, although having the ice rink in the middle of it makes it a little less convenient than it could be. It's nice, though, with a good mix of stalls selling stuff and stalls selling food and drink. We sampled some of the Cornish potatoes (potatoes, cheese, cream and bacon) and drunken sailors (prawns fried in some sort of vodka batter).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love how it looks like the wheel almost doesn't fit.</td></tr>
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Christmas market season seemed like a good time for a second pass at Bruges. It is definitely improved by the market - although there are a lot of tourists, it feels like there's some reason for them to be there. Also, it's definitely scenic.<br />
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It's hard to maintain outdoor ice rinks when the weather is hovering around 10C/50F, I imagine. Gent's had the texture of a snow cone, and the one in Bruges seemed to be equally suited to ice skating or using it as a waterslide. But it's certainly photogenic.<br />
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Bruges had a lot more lights, and more carnival games for the kids. They didn't have a ferris wheel, though. I think it would actually be a pretty cool place to see from a ferris wheel - they should find a place for one next year! Morgan and I sampled some crostillons/oliebollen (which we'd had for the first time at the <a href="http://morganandursula.blogspot.be/2013/09/a-dash-to-wallonia.html" target="_blank">festival in Liège</a>). <br />
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Having had time to reflect on it, I've come to the conclusion that my main problem with Bruges is that I've been living in Gent. If you're visiting from out of the country, or probably from other places in Belgium like Brussels or Wallonia, I bet Bruges is not a disappointment at all. But when you already live somewhere that looks pretty much like it, it just doesn't have much to offer. (Aside from a bigger Christmas market.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-k1CWNds8QBjgMUyrz0XLMEERJROGIwwr-PIO3RR4fXUNUBO9tuA0oScALToZn-K8_Xy3U532m3lly4hyphenhyphenAkmL4hkYpHY9wagOY5OK65lJt5iIfPw3qWJdTnQq08sV-kChuO6HY-TDDIk/s1600/brussels-hiergluhwein-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-k1CWNds8QBjgMUyrz0XLMEERJROGIwwr-PIO3RR4fXUNUBO9tuA0oScALToZn-K8_Xy3U532m3lly4hyphenhyphenAkmL4hkYpHY9wagOY5OK65lJt5iIfPw3qWJdTnQq08sV-kChuO6HY-TDDIk/s400/brussels-hiergluhwein-sm.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Santa is a terrible influence.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The final market we visited was in Brussels. They won for the most confusing layout, hands down. They managed to scatter a little bit of it everywhere, trailing from the Grand Place/Grote Markt to the Place Sainte-Catherine. And in spite of Santa's encouragement, Brussels is the only market where we <i>didn't</i> have any <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mulled_wine" target="_blank">glühwein</a>!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4pwZu6Outil3JbiK9NQ0ED04_cSWmGSkgEeB4HsWYX7eFg2SfUip2w4RhNIYETnoYdMOx8_dX4lFF-vHCQfnv-QIQ0hUEkoWf8TLgr7nts2p4gMoL03WWu6LtMQqBH-OjS8j2EZUI6w/s1600/brussels-lightshow2-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht4pwZu6Outil3JbiK9NQ0ED04_cSWmGSkgEeB4HsWYX7eFg2SfUip2w4RhNIYETnoYdMOx8_dX4lFF-vHCQfnv-QIQ0hUEkoWf8TLgr7nts2p4gMoL03WWu6LtMQqBH-OjS8j2EZUI6w/s400/brussels-lightshow2-sm.jpg" width="302" /></a></div>
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One thing that made the visit to Brussels completely worth
it is the light show they put on in the Grand Place. I figured it would
be some sort of blinky-lights affair, but boy was I wrong. They light
up the buildings all around the square and change the colors in time to
the music. To the right is a still of one of the buildings mid-show. It was
pretty spectacular, and surprisingly un-crowded. Last time we were in
Brussels, the Grand Place was a nightmare. Although, as it turns out, I could have used more people there to serve as a windbreak. It hasn't been all that cold here this December, but the wind has been a killer!<br />
<br />
In addition to that, Brussels had two really awesome steampunk carousels. I'd never seen anything like them. According to <a href="http://lesmanegesdandrea.com/accueil/" target="_blank">their website</a>, they're from France and if you check out the site, they also have a giant walking mechanical elephant you can ride on. I wish that had been at the market!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt0IZJ64gvDlH73cxVLKw7y5yB8AR5cOT41E3Olhz9WJl6c5JTl9DCz_6yiIav_txx-1nAZhm3jBkFmlMb6mozNeyForwhhvoiKEKx2Dy_GPwkfMKweNsnxqjSGYDo_CZUYRYaYGaqf3U/s1600/brussels-carousel3-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt0IZJ64gvDlH73cxVLKw7y5yB8AR5cOT41E3Olhz9WJl6c5JTl9DCz_6yiIav_txx-1nAZhm3jBkFmlMb6mozNeyForwhhvoiKEKx2Dy_GPwkfMKweNsnxqjSGYDo_CZUYRYaYGaqf3U/s400/brussels-carousel3-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like bugs? How about <i>giant</i> bugs?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF__D0l-9n9dCSpcJpGyEV9YOOAhbp-2Ni6AZxBZrHEE2nv3QL3vNEcyULSZ88gN45vOVcxUOi8mNhNNMaDgn-hvy1AtLPWk5HI_n7ysMBL7YP14EH7ZufATTcvblsI8s1Dc_fg3-rxkE/s1600/brussels-carousel2-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF__D0l-9n9dCSpcJpGyEV9YOOAhbp-2Ni6AZxBZrHEE2nv3QL3vNEcyULSZ88gN45vOVcxUOi8mNhNNMaDgn-hvy1AtLPWk5HI_n7ysMBL7YP14EH7ZufATTcvblsI8s1Dc_fg3-rxkE/s400/brussels-carousel2-sm.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
Stag beetle is just one of the rather odd choices to ride on. There was
also a mole (visible by the horns of the beetle), a flying horse (on the
right) with a bird above it and to the right. On both of those, you had
levers to operate the wings. One of the carousels also had a hot-air
balloon where the balloon part was a blowfish. The smaller carousel had a
rocket ship that rose and fell, and at the top of its path, it actually
went through a hole in the roof to look out from above. Super
imaginative and cool.<br />
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And then maybe some of it is really meant to induce nightmares.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-BY7zAF99g6_gOWvmQ0YfBpe4F_6SsA18XGa2N4ToDfkPsEfEIaJHoP_WpYzBJThrTLHJMz8VF0oXmr1nCxwR0B0zt0ns2FXG1yDM_ZP9bXl5i_yzz-7Ir9Zbi0d4qBlSQIUKKUIVq3c/s1600/brussels-carousel4-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-BY7zAF99g6_gOWvmQ0YfBpe4F_6SsA18XGa2N4ToDfkPsEfEIaJHoP_WpYzBJThrTLHJMz8VF0oXmr1nCxwR0B0zt0ns2FXG1yDM_ZP9bXl5i_yzz-7Ir9Zbi0d4qBlSQIUKKUIVq3c/s400/brussels-carousel4-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
The seat is there behind his head. He lowers himself down to the level of the manhole and then raises himself back up. And I guess that to avoid ending on a totally weird note, I should add some other nice photos to the end of this post!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53p3Me-QtnFrQ1te6lTMizs-JYHx7LvuZYA3lR_Oddg2f-Y1L1lpT7rvwvc4c-ihff75G7V0tf9HmpiYvRxVXwNEyGq5I7kA9r8izA4sVV1F0BcEUgBKmf4AtouwgfdF3aCSGsiPmBXM/s1600/brussels-christmasdecoration-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh53p3Me-QtnFrQ1te6lTMizs-JYHx7LvuZYA3lR_Oddg2f-Y1L1lpT7rvwvc4c-ihff75G7V0tf9HmpiYvRxVXwNEyGq5I7kA9r8izA4sVV1F0BcEUgBKmf4AtouwgfdF3aCSGsiPmBXM/s400/brussels-christmasdecoration-sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7URvHmK28zYDXTthJqpYRzsQCqeYKczsEq8bIOzUpYogyjzhLieiW0xqDXJoS3XRF4P3U9CeIK-snzkIjQxyIMoxfaLXhIBkajFsWGP71z1qKEMXcQmFbhrq13pafJPQbemyiVElnqOY/s1600/gent-booktree-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7URvHmK28zYDXTthJqpYRzsQCqeYKczsEq8bIOzUpYogyjzhLieiW0xqDXJoS3XRF4P3U9CeIK-snzkIjQxyIMoxfaLXhIBkajFsWGP71z1qKEMXcQmFbhrq13pafJPQbemyiVElnqOY/s400/gent-booktree-sm.JPG" width="288" /></a></div>
Merry Christmas to everyone out there, and best wishes for the New Year - I'll see you stateside!<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-7109234397828155012013-12-17T10:09:00.000+01:002013-12-17T10:09:11.792+01:00Can You Find Luxembourg on a map?I could, even before coming to Belgium, probably mostly thanks to studying for Jeopardy. The only things I really knew about it, though, were:<br />
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1. It's tiny.<br />
2. The capital is also called Luxembourg.<br />
3. It's tiny - on <i>The Amazing Race</i> one season, the contestants had a task of bicycling across the country (the addition of this fact makes #3 slightly different from #1. Also, without it, I probably wouldn't have had a #3.).<br />
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But as it turned out, our landlady here in Gent (I'll just call her "T.") is originally from Luxembourg. And she was interested in going to visit her family over the long weekend at the first of November (All Saint's Day is a holiday). She has had some recent trouble with one of her arms, so driving is not that easy for her; would we be willing to drive her to Luxembourg? Then she would stay with her family, and we could have the car to go sightseeing on our own.<br />
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That's a great deal, obviously, and we said "definitely!"<br />
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And that's how I ended up driving in Europe for the first time. It was ... interesting, considering I didn't understand all the signs or know offhand what a reasonable speed in kilometers per hour is on any given type of road. But in general, driving is driving, and we made it there without mishap. We met our landlady's brother and some family friends, and went out with T. and her brother ("F.").<br />
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We had dinner at the hotel where we were staying, and it was amazing. I had <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steak_tartare" target="_blank">steak tartare</a>, which I've been interested in, but never had occasion to order before. The waiter was very patient with me when he came to make it at the table and I didn't really know what I would want him to put into it. With my requests to leave the capers out, and make it spicy but not <i>really</i> spicy, he got it perfectly to my taste. I somehow didn't take any photos of dinner, but I guess something that is essentially a raw hamburger isn't going to look too appealing anyway.<br />
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To make up for that, here's a look at breakfast. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwjl_jNRQSw6iyXCopYWKPPkCW1ATFEKZAknuWo0VlCfVk1QNNTeflN8hoclFygjSTKYDsFRtfPsZ0B8KXMTUWC81w4Tdc1pFUAgb1IiLhatGpg6BpBYF7ERvjydrFyrKop-N5GtsoqBI/s1600/luxembourg-breakfast-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwjl_jNRQSw6iyXCopYWKPPkCW1ATFEKZAknuWo0VlCfVk1QNNTeflN8hoclFygjSTKYDsFRtfPsZ0B8KXMTUWC81w4Tdc1pFUAgb1IiLhatGpg6BpBYF7ERvjydrFyrKop-N5GtsoqBI/s400/luxembourg-breakfast-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Luxembourgers know how to start the day. (At hotels, anyway.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next day, F. took us on a tour of some highlights of Luxembourg. We first looked at some of the sights of Esch-sur-Alzette, which is where we were staying. It's the second-largest city (or town, I guess - it has 27,000 people) in Luxembourg. It also used to be a center for steel production. Apparently, steel is still big business in the country, after recovering from over-production in the '70s. Nevertheless, there is only one steel processing plant still working in Esch, and it's scheduled to close soon.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinqsNokZnXsUfU15DuzygL5EHyqar5F3Kt7e9bFcp2BW1SzshjmEGpdnGx106wCBFVXXRZCG5KvuHHmTOr06_SUJn65eDHAKE-yvrc90dXAp-6Qpf0Kd0ChQisO4-x3Lpwa-b_QQVPQOw/s1600/luxembourg-steelfactory-bw-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="362" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinqsNokZnXsUfU15DuzygL5EHyqar5F3Kt7e9bFcp2BW1SzshjmEGpdnGx106wCBFVXXRZCG5KvuHHmTOr06_SUJn65eDHAKE-yvrc90dXAp-6Qpf0Kd0ChQisO4-x3Lpwa-b_QQVPQOw/s400/luxembourg-steelfactory-bw-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
The revamping of this industrial area involves a mall, big concert hall, and buildings for the University of Luxembourg. There was a lot of construction going on, all with a very modern feel. I didn't manage to take a picture of those, although the buildings were very interesting.<br />
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Then we headed into Luxembourg City. <br />
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It's a city that's set up on terrain that gives it a very odd layout. Because of the cliffs, this location has been used many times as a spot for fortifications, starting somewhere around the 10th century. The photo above was taken from the main downtown area of the city, looking over the parts that are below. It's hard to effectively capture the way the city is set on multiple levels, but I might have some additional pictures to post to give you a better idea of it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6TtxmY174rBzSk37KiIPOMi1KYaLUToyYMdFgpYTR3LgPivmUvXqZHIws_64zTiegdjfVl83MCdOhfxfl4wSGI59QQNoWrxdpCCXCrRF9Ng0NCZ3pG1fjq2pgU2HUA7MLY_RjXi5AZ_w/s1600/luxembourg-saying-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6TtxmY174rBzSk37KiIPOMi1KYaLUToyYMdFgpYTR3LgPivmUvXqZHIws_64zTiegdjfVl83MCdOhfxfl4wSGI59QQNoWrxdpCCXCrRF9Ng0NCZ3pG1fjq2pgU2HUA7MLY_RjXi5AZ_w/s400/luxembourg-saying-sm.JPG" width="287" /></a></div>
The Luxembourgish saying on this window is "Mir wölle bleiwe wat mir sin," and it translates to "We want to remain what we are." It's the national motto, and refers to the fact that they have been taken over by and beholden to the countries around them many times, but they want to be independent. It's a sort of Luxembourgish "We're mad as hell, and we're not going to take this anymore!" (That's from the movie <i>Network</i>, in case you haven't seen it.)<br />
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And now, a statue!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdIbOLtxEwtijCL3jXbsqhIZhKROT1XJsKClmCi9czXOi99zIigQIZuK4vgA9XbDwWQmCTtdGYPScleO_mcq5ibhVvSfkmAZb8De_CuiLwf2BeHrr5tnfNOxfEABEnmKVQdqD_DxxChao/s1600/luxembourg-guillaume2-2-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="315" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdIbOLtxEwtijCL3jXbsqhIZhKROT1XJsKClmCi9czXOi99zIigQIZuK4vgA9XbDwWQmCTtdGYPScleO_mcq5ibhVvSfkmAZb8De_CuiLwf2BeHrr5tnfNOxfEABEnmKVQdqD_DxxChao/s400/luxembourg-guillaume2-2-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
This one is in the Place Guillaume II, and coincidentally, the guy on the horse is Guillaume II ... better known as William II of the Netherlands, who was also the Grand Duke of Luxembourg. In Luxembourgish, they call the square "Knuedler," which means "knot." I'm a little unclear on why that is, though, because it's not a particularly knotty intersection of streets or anything. But there you have it. <br />
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We also went to the Philharmonie Luxembourg, partially because it's an interesting building and partially because you can get a nice view of the city from its location in the Kirchberg area, which is up on a plateau. The area is full of very modern buildings, and has the European Court of Justice and European Investment Bank, among other EU facilities.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDX8HP_E_hheNlC3mEx1_zl1njrcj1RBJrS_QMMi6_1RMwuq9J_6FueZgR4MOZCZNi9QcmvMlSL4UEVagOjHqJCE99q3kNX6d4sbtcMlz1Id7PReYK2VcsIYpJ64bL4Az6hbix4XrbM1c/s1600/luxembourg-philharmonie-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDX8HP_E_hheNlC3mEx1_zl1njrcj1RBJrS_QMMi6_1RMwuq9J_6FueZgR4MOZCZNi9QcmvMlSL4UEVagOjHqJCE99q3kNX6d4sbtcMlz1Id7PReYK2VcsIYpJ64bL4Az6hbix4XrbM1c/s400/luxembourg-philharmonie-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It looks a little like an air filter to me, I have to admit.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
F. told us that the wind blowing between the hollow columns originally made a lot of noise, and they had to go back and partially fill them with water or sand or something. I can't find any reference to that online, so you can take it with a grain of salt. It's an amusing idea, if nothing else. <br />
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I wasn't able to get any really terrific shots of the view (someone went and built a hotel blocking the best of it ... the nerve!), but I'll post one I took anyway.<br />
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It's like standing in between two worlds - below is about a century or so behind the area above, which is a world of metal and glass.<br />
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That's plenty for now. More to come soon!<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-63397167472646087122013-12-07T09:47:00.003+01:002013-12-07T09:47:57.826+01:00The Last of Italy (For Now)I'm just going to throw together some odds and ends from Italy for this post. I took a lot of photos while we were there (go figure), and some of them just didn't fit into the previous posts, but I still want to share them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixoYW5EAETyFBOj-7ntlNBfiQI0KgNt4VliU5zDFQyDVdzsgys9n7dW5YoLnCbVCBUsIWl-GOkniamDmPZU9D0mqfwlw-x9y_KXiimp3zjIFKPcLGY-h0f2QIPiAmRYof-2vmlfLrOxC4/s1600/padova-street3-bw-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixoYW5EAETyFBOj-7ntlNBfiQI0KgNt4VliU5zDFQyDVdzsgys9n7dW5YoLnCbVCBUsIWl-GOkniamDmPZU9D0mqfwlw-x9y_KXiimp3zjIFKPcLGY-h0f2QIPiAmRYof-2vmlfLrOxC4/s400/padova-street3-bw-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
So, here are some of those photos. The one above and the two below capture some of what I loved about the feeling on the streets in Padua. Sometimes you would find yourself on quiet stretches where you wouldn't see another soul for blocks, and your steps would echo through the arcaded sidewalks. Other times, it was all groups of people having loud conversations and motorcycles zipping past. Both situations have their charm.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvP6lho7FEA8UFIiAMoe7mIo5ezgb1q99KBqtos7eQJSYmDIZOwEBwUBHDKU44tbxmEvCaaSouROT_p7xUWNwXkfLYt05srOBaGGzhTuBC_hZFzIekd45rzK7YqsqxTg9vnxPojWYlt1s/s1600/padova-hangingout-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvP6lho7FEA8UFIiAMoe7mIo5ezgb1q99KBqtos7eQJSYmDIZOwEBwUBHDKU44tbxmEvCaaSouROT_p7xUWNwXkfLYt05srOBaGGzhTuBC_hZFzIekd45rzK7YqsqxTg9vnxPojWYlt1s/s400/padova-hangingout-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwWnzKkzxSBy0ciyiCLaJJFNZNTIRCg26_zhWT6wpzpdz3CrrMLbbWDaS2bjJtepX1vbjpqho0qOWDOVeoVyp43eJrmyBqDEou06DHW_vI0_UKhv1fkm5LmDrz2YJ5YQpWxRp9CjcgVs8/s1600/padova-street2-bw-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwWnzKkzxSBy0ciyiCLaJJFNZNTIRCg26_zhWT6wpzpdz3CrrMLbbWDaS2bjJtepX1vbjpqho0qOWDOVeoVyp43eJrmyBqDEou06DHW_vI0_UKhv1fkm5LmDrz2YJ5YQpWxRp9CjcgVs8/s400/padova-street2-bw-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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Then there were the architectural details. Like everyone else who visits Italy, I was drawn to the colors of the buildings, the shapes of the windows and doors. I don't know that I managed to capture it in any meaningful way, but I had to try.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiISQx5XXYEGVCNIigBZSD7lmuoGNZQ2h1Uzh9A9CdE-k2Grf5T33biHcuAc2r57niMqI0tUoenFUgveA3duSfOOPS1NsfVzkPkjQCrFuOrxaS2OViJ0ogWTSfhnCp2vqdDdDKwNUniVsY/s1600/venezia-buildings1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiISQx5XXYEGVCNIigBZSD7lmuoGNZQ2h1Uzh9A9CdE-k2Grf5T33biHcuAc2r57niMqI0tUoenFUgveA3duSfOOPS1NsfVzkPkjQCrFuOrxaS2OViJ0ogWTSfhnCp2vqdDdDKwNUniVsY/s400/venezia-buildings1-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Venice</td></tr>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjNmDD0PtP2RhNViVoRFDwNQ9LbT_WYyEskBs99pxU9EIjHWF0shZzW6KlOpOsryUdJQIGtQujblt7Tfb6JEi0SdpHfKVdC6oONT36DA51sw3afc8Jc2vaW7YGYBHMG3fqBRBfljgLzQ/s1600/padova-window-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhjNmDD0PtP2RhNViVoRFDwNQ9LbT_WYyEskBs99pxU9EIjHWF0shZzW6KlOpOsryUdJQIGtQujblt7Tfb6JEi0SdpHfKVdC6oONT36DA51sw3afc8Jc2vaW7YGYBHMG3fqBRBfljgLzQ/s400/padova-window-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Padova</td></tr>
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I am still adding photos to my Flickr sets for Padua and Venice, so if you want to see even more, check over there (<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ursa_major/sets/72157637505421844/" target="_blank">Venice</a> and <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ursa_major/sets/72157635473423877/" target="_blank">Padua</a>). I really enjoyed our week there, and it was interesting to go somewhere so different from the places we had been before (Belgium, Netherlands, Germany - even France, since we only got into French Flanders). And that wraps up Italy for now.<br />
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Next time, I'll be posting about Luxembourg, a country that is so small it makes Belgium feel immense.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-84836752239835453302013-11-25T21:21:00.000+01:002013-11-25T21:30:17.704+01:00Venice, the OriginalI was thinking about how I've heard "Venice of the North" applied to so many cities that it sort of loses its meaning: Amsterdam, Bruges, St. Petersburg, Copenhagen, Stockholm. There's got to be more to Venice than just having canals, right?<br />
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Since Venice is only about 40 minutes by slow train from Padua, I figured I'd make a day trip there. It would be ridiculous to be so close and not even see the city, although I had to go alone since Morgan was busy working. When you step out of the train station, you're already in another world. The Grand Canal is just steps in front of you, and you're faced with the first of many green-topped domes you'll see. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQQaYe_NsZCH3D8tV5FpDUMIAmv5ReH-NWATGc-dyGMGPOvHcKp53vzkuA9gqi1fEnEQjg_75Jyj5PeERgMHvd1i57VmWMH-8jD97KyXdHGpbpwKdQGbF22vv7yooNdd2LdMG_CG6VIYE/s1600/venezia-firstlook-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQQaYe_NsZCH3D8tV5FpDUMIAmv5ReH-NWATGc-dyGMGPOvHcKp53vzkuA9gqi1fEnEQjg_75Jyj5PeERgMHvd1i57VmWMH-8jD97KyXdHGpbpwKdQGbF22vv7yooNdd2LdMG_CG6VIYE/s400/venezia-firstlook-sm.jpg" width="400" /> </a></div>
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I wandered in the same general direction as the throngs of tourists. I
didn't have a plan, or a map. My goal was just to walk around and see
what I could manage to see. </div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-4T1ZFTtcfkFFupEvm0rcku289KhRrOoSLGwE6_SyHdfIjhyphenhyphenP6E-TmSqJ3ZWmhr1-5-Yb3PokoZ_VX6PGQUJCjOiadO1Hd9PeHvwEk_fS0z9Rs_1LZS6HpA7HJtx1nS900Uh-nxInRKM/s1600/venezia-touristlane-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-4T1ZFTtcfkFFupEvm0rcku289KhRrOoSLGwE6_SyHdfIjhyphenhyphenP6E-TmSqJ3ZWmhr1-5-Yb3PokoZ_VX6PGQUJCjOiadO1Hd9PeHvwEk_fS0z9Rs_1LZS6HpA7HJtx1nS900Uh-nxInRKM/s400/venezia-touristlane-sm.JPG" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">As you can see, it's not too hard to <br />
follow the tourists.</td></tr>
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The streets were lined with souvenir stands - t-shirts, hats, Venetian carnival masks, Murano glass, magnets, whatever your little heart could desire to take home as a reminder. It's sort of hard to believe that they can all survive crowded on top of each other like that, but I guess the moral of the story is that Venice has enough tourism dollars to go around. I was surprised to see that it doesn't rank in the <a href="http://www.businessinsider.com/most-popular-tourist-destinations-2013-2013-6?op=1" target="_blank">top 20 most-visited cities worldwide</a> (according to Business Insider), but that's got to be a blessing, considering how much real estate many of those cities have in comparison to Venice.<br />
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Periodically you'll see signs on the corners of buildings that direct you toward the Piazza San Marco and/or the Rialto, so I broke away from the crowd and started meandering along small streets and crossing smaller bridges. I had been warned that it's easy to get lost or stuck in dead ends, but I didn't have much of a purpose in mind except "eventually end up at Piazza San Marco," so I figured it wasn't that big of a deal.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-1yrKvf53XwnsyKG6na8KTW6_xg7GHoe5l-IoTkU2TMEDve7Q4lmCElsnff8zGY_ep5Qwok51D7BobA-R9751Jf-eRWiqooBi8D1_wGl3TZP_czMQ52hQvWhcXVmyWh9Y5d2ljwZmx2Y/s1600/venezia-canal1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-1yrKvf53XwnsyKG6na8KTW6_xg7GHoe5l-IoTkU2TMEDve7Q4lmCElsnff8zGY_ep5Qwok51D7BobA-R9751Jf-eRWiqooBi8D1_wGl3TZP_czMQ52hQvWhcXVmyWh9Y5d2ljwZmx2Y/s400/venezia-canal1-sm.JPG" width="316" /></a></div>
Plus, it was relaxing and quiet once you got away from the major crowds. Just Venetians going on about their daily business - people passing on bridges and stopping to talk, a woman asking what time it was and exclaiming over how much she was running late. In these parts of the city, it felt like a small town.<br />
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I thought I remembered something about cats in Venice, but I only saw one.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n7dz_gKFWTYlwTWGEJOBDpEwJ6Pi307_EBvZ59_KdDcH-DcBwkzxfDCtUFBqrQfMoi2fxFe7un-5u4RwnlTiw3RuB-PE4jK9vKXuVg97txOaTiwGEODGB8cY3you2SUKuDBhGvMRJEM/s1600/venezia-cat-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="303" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1n7dz_gKFWTYlwTWGEJOBDpEwJ6Pi307_EBvZ59_KdDcH-DcBwkzxfDCtUFBqrQfMoi2fxFe7un-5u4RwnlTiw3RuB-PE4jK9vKXuVg97txOaTiwGEODGB8cY3you2SUKuDBhGvMRJEM/s400/venezia-cat-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
After doing some searching online, it appears that the cats were rounded up some years ago and deported to another island. There are still some hanging around, but not many.<br />
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It's strange to walk around and realize after a while that foot traffic is all there is. Obviously no cars, but also no bicycles. The only things with wheels were the dollies the delivery men were using (with frequent "attenzione!"s as they came up behind you). I found my way to Piazza San Marco and was back in the thick of the tourist crowd.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3l3txu2EDBTESVN91CNClT_Yof0QJbm_HWQ1z2TrDdJ6i1oHTbm7BoUvgBUvTCNNeH-XKML_QLoVInd07SDzDQt0zbzbYyRhKDtbjeYXZRNM3SgwKHYhKXYCsAJi8zXVXp9zS4jzMmSc/s1600/venezia-sanmarco-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3l3txu2EDBTESVN91CNClT_Yof0QJbm_HWQ1z2TrDdJ6i1oHTbm7BoUvgBUvTCNNeH-XKML_QLoVInd07SDzDQt0zbzbYyRhKDtbjeYXZRNM3SgwKHYhKXYCsAJi8zXVXp9zS4jzMmSc/s400/venezia-sanmarco-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The church in the center, some of it on the left covered in scaffolding.<br />
The Doge's Palace is on the right.</td></tr>
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I thought about going into the Basilica, but there was already a long line across the square, and there was no shade whatsoever. I was hot, and tired, and just didn't feel like dealing with it. So instead, I took pictures of the outside and contemplated what to do.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrayrKUmViWQI1weOdyeqN5YJ0uFl8FvOLlr21pRE8h9haOKAC96ZxIAwovQDp0vsySBusVm1M_sU5kET2wiv1ifjP7_u2GWyQ7D9vMs6meDRwSBXqq58OmX1TewlDmW__anKe3aZRZuI/s1600/venezia-no-sanmarco-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrayrKUmViWQI1weOdyeqN5YJ0uFl8FvOLlr21pRE8h9haOKAC96ZxIAwovQDp0vsySBusVm1M_sU5kET2wiv1ifjP7_u2GWyQ7D9vMs6meDRwSBXqq58OmX1TewlDmW__anKe3aZRZuI/s400/venezia-no-sanmarco-sm.JPG" width="396" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was clear on what I <i>couldn't</i> do.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ppUJpDn9_bNm4mYEO6tPL1Az1GYzHGwxF6JxG1qLGgrFZH9FyCyU21ZMFe32wcfs8nhvZgPlufvBRHw7G2hb-AQqgzHS6XL-LcDDV3ONSwTyxiVRfPtSz3teTeeBBVLouq0pTtZHJro/s1600/venezia-lagoongondolas-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7ppUJpDn9_bNm4mYEO6tPL1Az1GYzHGwxF6JxG1qLGgrFZH9FyCyU21ZMFe32wcfs8nhvZgPlufvBRHw7G2hb-AQqgzHS6XL-LcDDV3ONSwTyxiVRfPtSz3teTeeBBVLouq0pTtZHJro/s400/venezia-lagoongondolas-sm.JPG" width="296" /></a></div>
I walked down to the shore of the lagoon to check out the tide situation. I had no idea what the deal was with flooding, just that it sometimes happened. I asked one of the souvenir vendors about it. "Not today!" he said. I looked at the portable walkways out around the square, and he said, "They're just getting ready. But it won't happen until October or November. Don't worry!" Of course, I'd been more hopeful than worried, but now at least I knew. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYT7D1_mRtdcyhqBTc6TkqT9HVtfPdMohYdqtmQpH24WZd5NJWvuXRYT9SvQOfsSbZTrajtSlSDhofsVIZnLKbDjQYG68AP7hyRQPwFajMbHuj3vfirXTxXdZjOr4XtUj1DGJq2sgpKEM/s1600/venezia-bridgeofsighs-bw-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYT7D1_mRtdcyhqBTc6TkqT9HVtfPdMohYdqtmQpH24WZd5NJWvuXRYT9SvQOfsSbZTrajtSlSDhofsVIZnLKbDjQYG68AP7hyRQPwFajMbHuj3vfirXTxXdZjOr4XtUj1DGJq2sgpKEM/s400/venezia-bridgeofsighs-bw-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
I took a photo of the infamous <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bridge_of_Sighs" target="_blank">Bridge of Sighs</a>, and decided to check if the line for the basilica had improved. It hadn't; instead, it had gotten longer. So I definitely checked that off my list for the day and decided to push on to other parts of the city. After much trekking, I found myself on another island at what seemed to be the edge of the world.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Yi6PEsDJXthVAEdddkeK7-gMto9KObNi9gjn-w_n9txNuYj1i0ngiEbInX7uWIiFu3QquCWudDSCQW_3UOCU7SazaCFDmJxmfVWsGODTtbJ0osXiZq6QTQAh9e7kG8gOVcpH3KRtpZU/s1600/venezia-worldsedgepano-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="67" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Yi6PEsDJXthVAEdddkeK7-gMto9KObNi9gjn-w_n9txNuYj1i0ngiEbInX7uWIiFu3QquCWudDSCQW_3UOCU7SazaCFDmJxmfVWsGODTtbJ0osXiZq6QTQAh9e7kG8gOVcpH3KRtpZU/s400/venezia-worldsedgepano-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You're gonna have to make this one bigger to really see it. <br />
Don't be lazy - click it!</td></tr>
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I visited the basilica there (Santa Maria della Salute) and rested for a while just listening to the water lap against the concrete. Of course, most of the lapping was caused by the incessant boat traffic going by, so that impacted the relaxation effect a little! Eventually I had to rouse myself to head back to the train station to go back to Padua. The shadows were starting to get long.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiraecWmqIU6qQkIi7UxCW0NW1nBPJ7I67WREBh4t4IzP9izSZOkNm0jHiWJ7KY6u27QDY1HsPVBhcKtYykWaBYFeyxoMfTvHsZ75kf_f1wT0EAM9OBL6PHQrAnMQ6GqMllXI2dZYUBdec/s1600/venezia-sunsetty-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiraecWmqIU6qQkIi7UxCW0NW1nBPJ7I67WREBh4t4IzP9izSZOkNm0jHiWJ7KY6u27QDY1HsPVBhcKtYykWaBYFeyxoMfTvHsZ75kf_f1wT0EAM9OBL6PHQrAnMQ6GqMllXI2dZYUBdec/s400/venezia-sunsetty-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
So I said goodbye to Venice with a photo out the window of the train as we prepared to cross the bridge back to the mainland.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAH_UzzqdHd-ruM75GcQRwC3aytGiwl02HYuG8a5BnnmCY7AgfcPpWQJ9Gfeikpy1WsztgjChcDvY0oFidWJ3EpChWeFilo0_aw2VxP_vmDPP7s3-1U9vDwCIqP3-oxrlgxRZJFZdttxs/s1600/venezia-returntrain-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAH_UzzqdHd-ruM75GcQRwC3aytGiwl02HYuG8a5BnnmCY7AgfcPpWQJ9Gfeikpy1WsztgjChcDvY0oFidWJ3EpChWeFilo0_aw2VxP_vmDPP7s3-1U9vDwCIqP3-oxrlgxRZJFZdttxs/s400/venezia-returntrain-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
It's been so hard keeping from adding even more pictures than I've already put into this post, but if you're looking for more, I'm working to upload the rest to my <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ursa_major/sets/72157637505421844/" target="_blank">Venice Flickr set</a>. I haven't got them all there yet by any stretch of the imagination, but give me a few days and check back because there will be more. And the night shot that's there is from my <i>second</i> trip to Venice, not this one (what? I've already been back?! Indeed, I have.).<br />
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The next post will probably be a sort of general wrap-up of whatever loose ends I have regarding Italy (in other words, an excuse to post photos I didn't find a place for yet). Or, you never know, it might be something else entirely. Watch this space.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-43516828523616754032013-11-18T22:57:00.001+01:002013-11-18T22:57:17.612+01:00Where Cameras Fear To TreadI mentioned in a previous post that sometimes I forget things we've done because there were no cameras allowed, which means I don't have photos to jog my memory for the posts. Well, there were a number of those types of places in Padova. First up is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scrovegni_Chapel" target="_blank">Cappella della Scrovegni</a>, the exterior of which isn't much to look at. But the inside is covered by frescoes painted by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giotto" target="_blank">Giotto</a>.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/16/Last-judgment-scrovegni-chapel-giotto-1306.jpg/516px-Last-judgment-scrovegni-chapel-giotto-1306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="371" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/16/Last-judgment-scrovegni-chapel-giotto-1306.jpg/516px-Last-judgment-scrovegni-chapel-giotto-1306.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I lifted the picture from Wikipedia for obvious reasons.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This is apparently the #1 thing to see in the city. You have to get your tickets ahead of time, and show up half an hour early for your scheduled time. And once it's your appointment time, you don't actually go directly into the chapel. You sit in a climate-controlled room and watch a video about it. After that, your group is finally allowed through the airlock into the chapel itself.<br />
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For 15 minutes.<br />
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To me, it wasn't that big of a deal because I'm no religious scholar so I mostly just saw "ooh, paintings," but I can imagine that if you were familiar with all the stories depicted and wanted to examine those, or the technique, or the restoration work in detail, you wouldn't have nearly enough time. There's still a lot of restoration work to be done because unfortunately over the years, the adjoining buildings were knocked down and the chapel had its bare brick walls left open to the elements, which took its toll on the frescoes.<br />
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My verdict on the whole thing: it's the thing to see, so you probably should, but go in with your expectations set. You're going to feel herded and you won't get as much time as you might want. On the other hand, the fact that 1. the whole thing arose because some guy felt guilty about his family being moneylenders and 2. Giotto painted essentially every square inch of the walls of the entire building, and did it in a spectacular style, make it pretty interesting.<br />
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<a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/0/0a/Giusto_de%27_menabuoi,_paradiso_(detail),_1376-78,_battistero_di_Padova.jpg/627px-Giusto_de%27_menabuoi,_paradiso_(detail),_1376-78,_battistero_di_Padova.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="305" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/0/0a/Giusto_de'_menabuoi,_paradiso_(detail),_1376-78,_battistero_di_Padova.jpg/627px-Giusto_de'_menabuoi,_paradiso_(detail),_1376-78,_battistero_di_Padova.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
While on the subject of frescoes, the baptistry in the Duomo di Padova (Padua Cathedral) was also decorated in the "more is more" style. These were done by Giusto de' Menabuoi in the 14th century. He's not a household name, but the paintings are pretty incredible. And at the baptistry, you pay your €5 and can stare at it for as long as you want, without any airlocks or associated hassles.<br />
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The rest of the Duomo is more recent. As is frequently the case, there were older churches on the site but one burned down and one was destroyed in an earthquake. The one that is currently in place was finished in 1754 and is curiously ordinary-looking outside, and very modern inside.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN85hxqUyMGpxCfl33Nnm3su0539NUEQwh6XWs2UHwjKAJfhve6h_y9B2kdnX3VdHjPHlXKN1ngbCHyVW9tCjF2cuFuDA-UNaLGiSE-5mIBanRVR9IR9S02UwhxiY3DkWrZ0iuc2xG64Y/s1600/padova-duomo-bishop-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN85hxqUyMGpxCfl33Nnm3su0539NUEQwh6XWs2UHwjKAJfhve6h_y9B2kdnX3VdHjPHlXKN1ngbCHyVW9tCjF2cuFuDA-UNaLGiSE-5mIBanRVR9IR9S02UwhxiY3DkWrZ0iuc2xG64Y/s400/padova-duomo-bishop-sm.JPG" width="282" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Effigy? Wax figure? Mummy? Cryogenically <br />
preserved body? I have no idea.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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We also visited the Palazzo Bo, which contains an operating theater which used to be used by the University of Padua. As a side note, the University of Padua is one of the oldest in continuous operation, and in Italy is second only to Bologna. That's nothing to sneeze at, since Bologna is the oldest one in the world. Some pretty famous names have found their way there, incuding Copernicus and Galileo, who was the chair of the mathematics department around 1600. (Also Casanova studied there, although I don't know that he's terribly famous academically speaking.)<br />
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Anyhow, back to the operating theater. This thing is awesome.<br />
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You can't go into it anymore, you can only look at it from below the spot where the body would have been laid. However, it's still amazing to see. This is the oldest operating theater in Europe, and it's hard to tell from the photo, but the space between railings was standing room only and it's a surprisingly tiny room. Students were crammed in there (capacity was 250 people) and apparently fainting was a problem, although since you were so well wedged in, you couldn't really fall anywhere. Very practical. <br />
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For the final no-cameras destination, Morgan and I visited St. Anthony's Basilica.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgplVSlaoEmxT_FqoOSfa0ACrNNOGFbAsUjoaUuwHfNhgEq4emPGsqhNufC2Q58JvJDP8-VETF_zRxdFpY_BsXjWu3aSy2TWtHUYuU0Dyyr5w_DCE9t1rUMQnh2mhnt-ZM9rEwUpiVkWGE/s1600/padova-sanantonio-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgplVSlaoEmxT_FqoOSfa0ACrNNOGFbAsUjoaUuwHfNhgEq4emPGsqhNufC2Q58JvJDP8-VETF_zRxdFpY_BsXjWu3aSy2TWtHUYuU0Dyyr5w_DCE9t1rUMQnh2mhnt-ZM9rEwUpiVkWGE/s400/padova-sanantonio-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can take pictures of the outside.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This was my first visit to a basilica associated with a real saint, by which I mean one I'd actually heard of. The inside is pretty ornate, although not wall-to-wall frescoes or anything.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELvaBFm-6Kf1j5eSClz_D0WEslOl0yXg4Fs3lt1yLmcp6PEgVICXwiAkLjjqozg8bGhiV12Qrcj9fZbXkCJzfNDd92WqWpSln5sQFFpe2vOXaz-AYc6iNYkOALl-Ncz4Cds1TpsnQDco/s1600/padova-santantonio-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELvaBFm-6Kf1j5eSClz_D0WEslOl0yXg4Fs3lt1yLmcp6PEgVICXwiAkLjjqozg8bGhiV12Qrcj9fZbXkCJzfNDd92WqWpSln5sQFFpe2vOXaz-AYc6iNYkOALl-Ncz4Cds1TpsnQDco/s400/padova-santantonio-sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Although you can't take pictures, there are no rules against drawing.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The two main attractions of the basilica are the Tomb of St. Anthony and the treasury that contains his relics. The treasury was all glass and gold, with containers which include St. Anthony's larynx and his tongue. I didn't really know what to think about that - bones don't seem that weird to me, but a jar with a tongue in it strikes me as maybe a little strange. (I just discovered that some of the relics have <a href="http://www.catholicherald.co.uk/news/2013/11/05/worshippers-across-uk-venerate-the-relics-of-st-anthony-of-padua/" target="_blank">been on tour</a> in the UK, which is also odd to me.)<br />
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The tomb is in another part of the church. On the day I was there, it was quite busy. A line of people shuffles past the tomb, and touch it and pray to St. Anthony.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrmEQdxzPeu9Q_2mhrQoKTlvEsgx5D6tuY3y74GnNU2UXv-d2Xucle1KbNkXaDRpLIPao903dCC6nWGVnYQkhz3J2CN9G5HZB4LdQHTw71EMDvUiyCiqZ8pIE-bzK7DBkADf4jsD-2X6A/s1600/padova-santantonio-tomb-sm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrmEQdxzPeu9Q_2mhrQoKTlvEsgx5D6tuY3y74GnNU2UXv-d2Xucle1KbNkXaDRpLIPao903dCC6nWGVnYQkhz3J2CN9G5HZB4LdQHTw71EMDvUiyCiqZ8pIE-bzK7DBkADf4jsD-2X6A/s400/padova-santantonio-tomb-sm.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
I walked around it, but I didn't touch it as it just didn't seem right. It's not my religion; I am merely an observer. I felt even more strongly about that as I looked around - St. Anthony is the patron saint of lost things and people, and everywhere were photographs of children who are presumably missing. <br />
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I can't really think of anything to follow that up with, so I'll just leave it at that. Next time, a day trip to Venice.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-86955549166384512932013-11-10T14:05:00.000+01:002013-11-10T14:05:05.008+01:00I Say "Italy," You Say ...I am currently sitting in Padova, writing a blog post about Padova as I saw it two months ago. I didn't expect to be back here - life is surreal sometimes.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg51JW1vjF1k3V8SapdJM_54nXzOnDy7RkuvZMwBkLAQGZaAztYWKX0o3E_RcwrlO6btAjaCAt9rygz161fcvrBOoiP7fCUSBSr1q3lPIKsthaRdbwsC_FceKbbMbYYYYNE3fUYdeM7YP4/s1600/padova+-piazzadeisignori-market-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg51JW1vjF1k3V8SapdJM_54nXzOnDy7RkuvZMwBkLAQGZaAztYWKX0o3E_RcwrlO6btAjaCAt9rygz161fcvrBOoiP7fCUSBSr1q3lPIKsthaRdbwsC_FceKbbMbYYYYNE3fUYdeM7YP4/s400/padova+-piazzadeisignori-market-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
As I said, this time, I'll show and talk about some of the typical Italian scenes and sights. One thing that people think of when you say "Italy": markets in the piazzas. At right is the Piazza dei Signori, with the Torre dell'Orologio at one end (more on that in a minute). This market spans 3 squares which are laid out one after the other - the Piazza dei Signori (Lords' Square), Piazza dei Frutti (Fruits Square) and Piazza delle Erbe (Herbs Square). The atmosphere is vibrant, and there are a variety of things for sale.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi63niMTeCTYhumkZuXqYKKm2btMalRXkXQvoAIkwSddaPmqKumVV0b0EMQOeLMcpgGPhOh-RFonf0JUgeUXyeSRL9bPVPYoy2zVdpnymGKcv39KX6UP7xyUfEHnBo8_5-IDuz8LP-AGk0/s1600/padova-veggies-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi63niMTeCTYhumkZuXqYKKm2btMalRXkXQvoAIkwSddaPmqKumVV0b0EMQOeLMcpgGPhOh-RFonf0JUgeUXyeSRL9bPVPYoy2zVdpnymGKcv39KX6UP7xyUfEHnBo8_5-IDuz8LP-AGk0/s400/padova-veggies-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mmm, veggies.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYNW8LYyCe4ToZqpQUP-PGIsJILyqnUXKF3Utn71UI1D0zTeNJsaLodkdLHGUdn-PMj4k_kbumjHovDN7Z0mS44ziWNtoTGUkOmLngzjZRXw7KJ5dcpkUo-4fxRf5Mx4ZNFVQjZCEoq8/s1600/padova-salumeria-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisYNW8LYyCe4ToZqpQUP-PGIsJILyqnUXKF3Utn71UI1D0zTeNJsaLodkdLHGUdn-PMj4k_kbumjHovDN7Z0mS44ziWNtoTGUkOmLngzjZRXw7KJ5dcpkUo-4fxRf5Mx4ZNFVQjZCEoq8/s400/padova-salumeria-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meat and cheese shops are in a gallery next to the square.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our hotel was not far on the other side of the arch in the tower, so I often started my morning by passing through the markets. Then in the afternoon, the booths are packed up and the area fills with tables and chairs for the bars and restaurants that surround the square.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-pJSjlywd1iwWNwlrKgvaxyR2GkKddQZpnIczterPaz15AfUzzE1CVXGNMoEDmqXKsZqpBeKxuCQqj4ys1Zbf0L6JpFRWKuX5lq_DGBFHOBlJJohEEkNcxkPIgj5lM4dpdQVzhZim21g/s1600/padova-piazza-tables-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-pJSjlywd1iwWNwlrKgvaxyR2GkKddQZpnIczterPaz15AfUzzE1CVXGNMoEDmqXKsZqpBeKxuCQqj4ys1Zbf0L6JpFRWKuX5lq_DGBFHOBlJJohEEkNcxkPIgj5lM4dpdQVzhZim21g/s400/padova-piazza-tables-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Piazza dei Signori facing the other direction. After a short <br />
rain shower, the tables start filling up again.</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2fIvSDJaL93P7T1yXY_D7xtSwIbXODCZ6gtvIVNqkQkaj_7fdN0MyopxPWx_oy1wNm1FLhJmI1tPDVQYgvsF_o5wynNKQiOj-viHKH2TpvYWv7U5ACIROHPGMy0MXwP9v-w8CAc3Lmc/s1600/padova-torreorologico-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2fIvSDJaL93P7T1yXY_D7xtSwIbXODCZ6gtvIVNqkQkaj_7fdN0MyopxPWx_oy1wNm1FLhJmI1tPDVQYgvsF_o5wynNKQiOj-viHKH2TpvYWv7U5ACIROHPGMy0MXwP9v-w8CAc3Lmc/s400/padova-torreorologico-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
Back to the Torre dell'Orologio - on the tower is an astronomical clock that
was built in the 15th century. It's a replacement for one that was from
1344. It displays the time, date, and current astrological sign. That is, unless the current sign is Libra, which is not represented. I've read a few different theories on why that is the case, but I can't tell you which one is true. It's not clear whether the original had Libra and the copy left it off for some reason, or if this is a faithful representation of the 1344 version as well. In any event, the clock has Scorpio taking up two spaces.<br />
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Another thing that comes to mind when someone mentions Italy: statues. And if you want to see statues, have I got the place for you ... Prato della Valle. Apparently, there are 78 statues in this park - I didn't count them, so I have to trust Wikipedia on that! But in any event, this spot is statue central.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihP6gR8JFDBnOa9g-L9t1ZsqL6-6yZvr8NEmXGLs27kgdO6VAvgqdZE6CevZGOAurl057iMqtTGtuK5_CTwUyuDPCjDhbXSDNlXNjfWitkan_FIcly9eOaYjpnizVCsGBxUwCzSgQ-SQc/s1600/padova-pratodellavalle2-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihP6gR8JFDBnOa9g-L9t1ZsqL6-6yZvr8NEmXGLs27kgdO6VAvgqdZE6CevZGOAurl057iMqtTGtuK5_CTwUyuDPCjDhbXSDNlXNjfWitkan_FIcly9eOaYjpnizVCsGBxUwCzSgQ-SQc/s400/padova-pratodellavalle2-sm.JPG" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How statues reproduce.</td></tr>
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The park is a big oval surrounded by a canal, and the statues are lined up along both sides of the water. It's a terrific place for taking photos because it's got a bit of everything - in addition to the statues, there's greenery, bridges, reflections on the water, scenic buildings and churches in the background. One of the buildings you get a great view of is the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abbey_of_Santa_Giustina" target="_blank">Abbey of Santa Giustina</a> - in the background of the photo at the bottom of this post. From another angle, you can see the Basilica of San Antonio, which I'm not going to talk about right now because churches will be the subject of another post (you can't throw a rock in Padua without hitting a church).<br />
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And that's it for this post! I'm guessing the next one will probably be about churches, unless something else strikes my fancy as I go through my photos. <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-78770743320783795382013-11-05T13:31:00.003+01:002013-11-05T13:31:53.814+01:00The Taming of the...Here we are, ready to talk about Italy, and I don't even know where to start. I've been staring at the beginnings of this blog post for far too long, trying to figure out how to approach it. We went to Padova (or Padua, as it's known in English) because Morgan had a math conference, so he was away all day every day for the entire week and I was wandering the streets by myself. Which, don't get me wrong, there are certainly worse fates that can befall a person, but it makes it a little different because it doesn't break down easily into an "on this day, I did this" sort of format. Plus, I was hoping to come up with some sort of witty and appropriate title that would rhyme with The Taming of the Shrew, since that was set in Padua, but I've got nothing. <br />
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Anyway, here goes. We flew from Brussels to Zurich (where one of the few airport food options was a US $29 club sandwich) to Venice, which is just about an hour away from Padova.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIqMSAVc9jLCF-EjtLa5LQ_dSltIO_lHUgyA9ojxTDEnJnju_nLqb10_wes0yttnJDxg99s73PRucnnQoyeWGi_elmpb7jzG0vtEkN5RpXOmZMC_EbIQ-7Pc8kX8KQrWcEFiMb1O8xSbk/s1600/padova-aerial-venice-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIqMSAVc9jLCF-EjtLa5LQ_dSltIO_lHUgyA9ojxTDEnJnju_nLqb10_wes0yttnJDxg99s73PRucnnQoyeWGi_elmpb7jzG0vtEkN5RpXOmZMC_EbIQ-7Pc8kX8KQrWcEFiMb1O8xSbk/s400/padova-aerial-venice-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yep, that's Venice.</td></tr>
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We got into Padova at night, so it wasn't until the next morning that I got a good look at the place. And when I did, one of the first thing that struck me walking down the street was how friendly people were. It's a marked change from Belgium,
where it's rare for anyone on the street to meet your eye. It was
early, so there weren't a lot of people out, but everywhere I went I was
greeted with "buongiorno!" One of the people I was greeted by was a
woodworker with a little stand a few blocks from the hotel. You might be thinking, "Well of course he's friendly, he wants customers!" but seriously, even people like that don't say hello in Belgium. (They might yell "Echte Gentse neusjes!" in your direction from the cuberdon stands, but they don't say good morning.)<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtqK2hUaEhtdmwMByCVIz7TTL45D0K1KLrcZL8a5YAPQmigAuukZDnWFTkyASMwtVH0n46V4FtRlxn7WGgwNU4hSIKqFAzb5rtxIvAADp7nhyLvluQql6IfUL8jfPosFr4BdizfaxabI/s1600/padova-pinocchio-small.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtqK2hUaEhtdmwMByCVIz7TTL45D0K1KLrcZL8a5YAPQmigAuukZDnWFTkyASMwtVH0n46V4FtRlxn7WGgwNU4hSIKqFAzb5rtxIvAADp7nhyLvluQql6IfUL8jfPosFr4BdizfaxabI/s400/padova-pinocchio-small.JPG" width="295" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can check Pinocchio off my "Italy Bingo" card.</td></tr>
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Padova is a very walkable city, as long as you're paying attention. I've heard that the drivers in Italy get crazier the farther south you go, but that doesn't mean they're sedate in the north. It's the kind of place where even after the "walk" signal turns green, it's a good idea to check the road again - in both directions - before you start to cross. We had been happy to hear that the hotel had bikes for guests to use, but once I'd walked around for a day, I was too terrified to even get on one. The bikes I saw seemed to adhere to even fewer rules than the cars - they were on the street, on the sidewalk, going in either direction. It was a free-for-all.<br />
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If you want to know what Padova looks like, it mostly looks sort of like this. Most of the streets have these colonnaded walkways. (Now imagine people walking through here and bikes weaving through in both directions as well. Yeah.) The walkways are kind of great - they provide shade from the sun, shelter from the rain, and put a nice stone barrier between you and the cars. Okay, I'll stop about the cars. Except first I have to tell you a story. I was walking along, and came to an intersection where a woman was traveling in the same direction as me on a bike. A car approached from our right and was thoroughly into the intersection before he saw the bike and came to a sudden stop. The bicyclist started yelling at the driver, clearly telling him that he was supposed to have stopped (he had a stop sign, in fact) and he could have killed her. The driver's answer was also perfectly clear to me even though my Italian is marginal at best. He pointed at her undamaged bike and said, essentially, "I <i>did</i> stop."<br />
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Now I'm really done with harping on about the hazards of the roadways.<br />
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Anyone will tell you that Italy is full of art, and when they say that, they're probably mostly referring to Renaissance paintings and highbrow stuff like that. Yawn! (I kid, we saw some of that, too.) But there's also a lot of street art, so I'll share some photos of that now.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEnj5PU5XPtQnpUz3S4x5HvxqP6agZiGMtg9XjMRRnh2AwlPTZRbtQa2vj01ejvowr1oYlvo5VeY2wwD84uZ0Jg5PIhPESHOJpT-UqtCHODWWdR6Yft5XXMIMc2zqTtleVVFT83Hayc0/s1600/padova-graffiti-yellowgirl-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIEnj5PU5XPtQnpUz3S4x5HvxqP6agZiGMtg9XjMRRnh2AwlPTZRbtQa2vj01ejvowr1oYlvo5VeY2wwD84uZ0Jg5PIhPESHOJpT-UqtCHODWWdR6Yft5XXMIMc2zqTtleVVFT83Hayc0/s400/padova-graffiti-yellowgirl-sm.JPG" width="267" /></a></div>
These are just a few examples of what I saw on the streets; I'll have the rest of them up on Flickr eventually. I enjoyed being surprised by pieces like these whenever I turned a corner.<br />
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I particularly liked the geometric ones I ran across like the pink one posted below. There was another one of these I found, but I couldn't get a very good picture of it, unfortunately. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN5nbY_89bmIDTyaHt1-Fv0cX0Iu7LXTndXv03dAtpKZI7au46Ti6mjvwIjjej3lvtrN8SBaAF_sh9XJhXpAPTOLVLcWIX8bch88kUfbzciKko8EdJzlSV_YkXhfndl1UYu0WhLJtShEg/s1600/padova-graffiti-silhouette2-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN5nbY_89bmIDTyaHt1-Fv0cX0Iu7LXTndXv03dAtpKZI7au46Ti6mjvwIjjej3lvtrN8SBaAF_sh9XJhXpAPTOLVLcWIX8bch88kUfbzciKko8EdJzlSV_YkXhfndl1UYu0WhLJtShEg/s400/padova-graffiti-silhouette2-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The lighting makes it a little difficult to see, but <br />he's disdainfully holding up a graffiti tag.</td></tr>
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I know this maybe hasn't been the typical view of Italy. I bet you were expecting more architecture and old frescoes. Or statues and pictures of food. I promise I took those photos too - well, actually, not many pictures of food, oddly enough - and they're coming up in future posts. And also probably some drawings of my own - I did a few while I was there. Hopefully the next post will come sooner, now that I've started.<br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-82964518805828717822013-10-23T11:33:00.000+02:002013-10-23T11:33:56.127+02:00Nothing Says "Party" Like Balloons!Okay, let's get right to it. I said that there would be tons of photos in this post, and I am going to try to keep it to a reasonable number. If you still had dial-up, you'd hate me. (But come on, if you still had dial-up, you'd hate everything.)<br />
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Somewhere a while back, Morgan and I had seen a flyer for the Sint-Niklaas Vredefeesten, and it showed pictures of hot-air balloons. As a result, I figured "vrede" had something to do with balloons, but that was entirely wrong. Instead, it means "peace." Anyhow, based on spotty Dutch translation and a picture of a balloon, we found ourselves in Sint-Niklaas for the festival. We were there in spite of the fact that we were leaving for Italy the very next day. The timing was terrible, but: balloons!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDQbVmmMPumeTxuPMfErLSpy7xOTEopT4HucfltogJ5wDH91IQr12d58aQdkbUH6pzCkQPL0B6fB4RL6MUQFbQA_8zR2r5puuxYFkUcUvR5KJwrinxaFW3lWLPn1_qNMNnitwll4QYS6M/s1600/vredefeesten-gasballoon2-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDQbVmmMPumeTxuPMfErLSpy7xOTEopT4HucfltogJ5wDH91IQr12d58aQdkbUH6pzCkQPL0B6fB4RL6MUQFbQA_8zR2r5puuxYFkUcUvR5KJwrinxaFW3lWLPn1_qNMNnitwll4QYS6M/s320/vredefeesten-gasballoon2-sm.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
The balloon launches were divided up by types of balloons - first the gas balloons, then the mini hot-air balloons, then the regular hot-air ones, and finally the "special form" balloons. We arrived just in time to see the gas balloons floating overhead. I guess these are not nearly as common as the hot-air ones, since there were three of these compared to ... well, let's just say lots more of the regular variety. The balloons were being launched from the main square in the town, which seemed awfully small to me for the purpose, and perhaps a little too surrounded by buildings with pointy tops, but obviously I'm no expert on ballooning.<br />
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Once the gas balloons were out of sight, the square came alive with people unrolling their mini balloons. Apparently, these are radio-controlled, so they're like RC airplanes. When I heard "mini," I thought they might be about 5 or 6 feet tall, all told.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5UzcOnKgZPoeO1X5edesVFpCd-TTP7X5UJ0X1lPe9j7sKLAb4WgKFRkfWT9m7m74OPchlf68glc0lmOil4DmtkboE6TydRwoxlwt-NYY6cICH9Pb476NxPS3RRTW8mi01xx1Blocl9W0/s1600/vredefeesten-minis1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5UzcOnKgZPoeO1X5edesVFpCd-TTP7X5UJ0X1lPe9j7sKLAb4WgKFRkfWT9m7m74OPchlf68glc0lmOil4DmtkboE6TydRwoxlwt-NYY6cICH9Pb476NxPS3RRTW8mi01xx1Blocl9W0/s400/vredefeesten-minis1-sm.JPG" width="333" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was wrong.</td></tr>
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We didn't get to see any of them being remote-controlled, however. I think it was too windy - no one wants to have their giant mini balloon go floating away! Instead, everyone just walked them around the square, holding onto the baskets.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrvwR1HyLorjMP0u8eefHEoAjbrFCizWOY40fQtv0i8izOsG4nCrAMhi1NUe93sK_SnZDB9azp2WQ4SLMRwGP5MJlv1FHvAHBxDGNQmUzS5H4NAtqR8iDp-sHq5Q-Y-nnPtNihUeOxQVs/s1600/vredefeesten-minis2-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrvwR1HyLorjMP0u8eefHEoAjbrFCizWOY40fQtv0i8izOsG4nCrAMhi1NUe93sK_SnZDB9azp2WQ4SLMRwGP5MJlv1FHvAHBxDGNQmUzS5H4NAtqR8iDp-sHq5Q-Y-nnPtNihUeOxQVs/s400/vredefeesten-minis2-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I'm not sure their intentions are benign.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqfCRxW4617P_GrheZco5Uot3oE3lH8J0D3OWfdGzZeZJnuNFeQ7I8jFkt1MeDysUFxcHROm26AbnmJZKoKDe6auMnsWEf0vPIlHAsZa59PazCyfl-EK8_fGNq1AJUwrJ-HlLRsBwawZ4/s1600/vredefeesten-minis5-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqfCRxW4617P_GrheZco5Uot3oE3lH8J0D3OWfdGzZeZJnuNFeQ7I8jFkt1MeDysUFxcHROm26AbnmJZKoKDe6auMnsWEf0vPIlHAsZa59PazCyfl-EK8_fGNq1AJUwrJ-HlLRsBwawZ4/s400/vredefeesten-minis5-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were a lot of these suckers.</td></tr>
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After all that excitement, we were hungry, so we went to investigate the food booths. What we found was that each side of the square had food that consisted of a hamburger stand (and the burgers looked absolutely terrifying; not anything like a self-respecting American burger), a gyro stand, and an Indonesian food stand. Well, then.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitASqrxq8VxqQs8BcLxjc4E9vCoAD8rXH4kf9RfQp7I2IknHthexezCy4f-uICdLBfqH8sfSlcdswjEONzhLWMC5HNWtZU_b_DZ5WIBUEbLmkJB90qxpThgSS00cX-DoySy3TW-G_N2G0/s1600/vredefeesten-lunch-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitASqrxq8VxqQs8BcLxjc4E9vCoAD8rXH4kf9RfQp7I2IknHthexezCy4f-uICdLBfqH8sfSlcdswjEONzhLWMC5HNWtZU_b_DZ5WIBUEbLmkJB90qxpThgSS00cX-DoySy3TW-G_N2G0/s400/vredefeesten-lunch-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At least it was <i>good</i> Indonesian food.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Properly fortified, we made our way back into the crowd for the main event - the hot-air balloons.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij5s7-DD-g0XjFdi5YJJQMeWwhn2Ic46RUfYYMHW9Ds323i5CYVn7EBGe_mCAHyEWm8eLx643xH3Y-_h_0MVtEdU9fHh3-dxvymDNIhPnWhlz-4LeQQwwMRDzZvwx-ydj9Yx3WFciEqYg/s1600/vredefeesten-balloons1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij5s7-DD-g0XjFdi5YJJQMeWwhn2Ic46RUfYYMHW9Ds323i5CYVn7EBGe_mCAHyEWm8eLx643xH3Y-_h_0MVtEdU9fHh3-dxvymDNIhPnWhlz-4LeQQwwMRDzZvwx-ydj9Yx3WFciEqYg/s400/vredefeesten-balloons1-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Things started out pretty mellow ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinR-Qotma4tGD7BY_J0rc7rD-8kiXw9dcnYcHdG5PTKBnQFP0d39I7bbwZYi89lGLn4VD1Km7lpfpy1F2kuLRoANdusX7B5fE5JOjTtAmedZivFmPsIYs_gVkJNXjIoRjWv-I_WW9x9vA/s1600/vredefeesten-balloons2-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinR-Qotma4tGD7BY_J0rc7rD-8kiXw9dcnYcHdG5PTKBnQFP0d39I7bbwZYi89lGLn4VD1Km7lpfpy1F2kuLRoANdusX7B5fE5JOjTtAmedZivFmPsIYs_gVkJNXjIoRjWv-I_WW9x9vA/s400/vredefeesten-balloons2-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">... but quickly got kind of crazy.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
From that moment on, it was pretty much non-stop balloons being dragged over, unrolled, secured to a car, filled with air, having their fires lit, final checks made, ties loosed, and finally ending with waving to the crowd as they lifted off. All of those things, in different stages, all over the square at once. It looked like mass confusion, and I was pretty sure someone's balloon was going to be accidentally burnt to a crisp due to proximity to someone else's flame, but nothing dire happened.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLkmT6Wtpdi-a39qU5vR8SliHziPbkRfNvvFevBsTvBmy8XSD33FpHK70NJuHm0cMMi4Kkqb1xEdGgzLrgol_yNoNnNkEwDq5ZS1oWD3EWftIL23-PeOUdZkVwNKy_zIOB8scfYpXtEio/s1600/vredefeesten-balloons8-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLkmT6Wtpdi-a39qU5vR8SliHziPbkRfNvvFevBsTvBmy8XSD33FpHK70NJuHm0cMMi4Kkqb1xEdGgzLrgol_yNoNnNkEwDq5ZS1oWD3EWftIL23-PeOUdZkVwNKy_zIOB8scfYpXtEio/s400/vredefeesten-balloons8-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIP_uU90dhkwmU8R0i9fy-jY16wcA-qb1oeCHJ5VCJfMeG2nIDjNbDUqPXN99A9Q7aC-g_qSwEmi8EjZFcPtD0NVE9OKRhw2d8xmCdl6UaeawLJMX_mKeNyNc8MmHNj6mTfpbeOecu0Cw/s1600/vredefeesten-balloons12-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIP_uU90dhkwmU8R0i9fy-jY16wcA-qb1oeCHJ5VCJfMeG2nIDjNbDUqPXN99A9Q7aC-g_qSwEmi8EjZFcPtD0NVE9OKRhw2d8xmCdl6UaeawLJMX_mKeNyNc8MmHNj6mTfpbeOecu0Cw/s400/vredefeesten-balloons12-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This was only about 15 minutes since the first balloon launched. It was<br />
like a balloon assembly line out there.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgP9VoSYjYu_ifs1uhoD8oNp0unktwlLBOkYiMtyPpWX5YIXIE1oea0jXVtSLXqWev30GarmvIgwH1Adj7xwypOOVuIfqc6tJ3rxk8R5xOM6fQlfnWo31RBDwYNFBuLHo_WQvrRd-Epw/s1600/vredefeesten-balloons14-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXgP9VoSYjYu_ifs1uhoD8oNp0unktwlLBOkYiMtyPpWX5YIXIE1oea0jXVtSLXqWev30GarmvIgwH1Adj7xwypOOVuIfqc6tJ3rxk8R5xOM6fQlfnWo31RBDwYNFBuLHo_WQvrRd-Epw/s400/vredefeesten-balloons14-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">See? This looks like a bad idea.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Fast on the heels of the last regular balloons getting filled and ready for takeoff, the special-form balloons took over the stage. These are the ones people really want to see, mostly, because they're the ones that are in all sort of fun shapes. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc4nxs7DozGF1_L9y3VX6OUqdrQgzlXx67FOG9HZnrUiQ2nrtLHcu0BmDhTgpImR3G2oGYJdHXbOz1lqw6PLcNo4f06tNezGz57PmLsfredy_tbTmMzAw4Pz7fdLy3_x5IuOGsdrYsIBU/s1600/vredefeesten-balloons15-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc4nxs7DozGF1_L9y3VX6OUqdrQgzlXx67FOG9HZnrUiQ2nrtLHcu0BmDhTgpImR3G2oGYJdHXbOz1lqw6PLcNo4f06tNezGz57PmLsfredy_tbTmMzAw4Pz7fdLy3_x5IuOGsdrYsIBU/s400/vredefeesten-balloons15-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That form is pretty special, all right.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDCza9nZ2Z6kOYKGyOH8R1OEq86Bdv5H_eRiz8x7X30bSR5SIt1iCU9qmzY9G5MWCWffMt1CdLKAi7xC3J6vBjpDj-TbsOffxumh2q4fxtD-Pgq5kY93-zWB5qEcSajiw2Ggy63GkYSo/s1600/vredefeesten-balloons16-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmDCza9nZ2Z6kOYKGyOH8R1OEq86Bdv5H_eRiz8x7X30bSR5SIt1iCU9qmzY9G5MWCWffMt1CdLKAi7xC3J6vBjpDj-TbsOffxumh2q4fxtD-Pgq5kY93-zWB5qEcSajiw2Ggy63GkYSo/s400/vredefeesten-balloons16-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKy4-bJqcEP6FMju8b3p81fK3pc_k-sXhQizmxwTa-SUFZ6KzCsK89-IkucI7wpW4uNg_avAo0TpNfO39_-eVxoxodpkMcUZzk6skleWzgUPeXZccgWoRFdRroEn2wRXp8oDdBMGrzf5g/s1600/vredefeesten-balloons20-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKy4-bJqcEP6FMju8b3p81fK3pc_k-sXhQizmxwTa-SUFZ6KzCsK89-IkucI7wpW4uNg_avAo0TpNfO39_-eVxoxodpkMcUZzk6skleWzgUPeXZccgWoRFdRroEn2wRXp8oDdBMGrzf5g/s400/vredefeesten-balloons20-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
<br />
The "Up" balloon pictured at left was actually pretty cleverly done. It's mostly just a basic balloon printed with an all-over pattern of smaller balloons, but some of them are little pockets that fill with air and give it a bumpy texture. <br />
<br />
In the distance is the balloon that was being filled in the last picture, a girl in a flight helmet. I think she goes with the guy with the blue hair, but I'm not sure. The bit of yellow you see in the right corner turned into something kind of spectacular.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMNcS4NvZKqQsd2nYhZhObAM5rSK_-NTQ8fyyHGXOvKz19DF-ZH1exGbeMdo4gq2W0YiejXQUEmz_lQIbG_RZZrs7VHlQHqEffIqLgy-CvhLwvozhChsBPPIF-DjMPPKSik55v-suEPbA/s1600/vredefeesten-balloons21-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMNcS4NvZKqQsd2nYhZhObAM5rSK_-NTQ8fyyHGXOvKz19DF-ZH1exGbeMdo4gq2W0YiejXQUEmz_lQIbG_RZZrs7VHlQHqEffIqLgy-CvhLwvozhChsBPPIF-DjMPPKSik55v-suEPbA/s400/vredefeesten-balloons21-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can't tell what yet in this photo, but I'm including it anyway<br />
because it cracks me up.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQvVrtFnsrsfRQzTZNt6JQnyCyVVE8itjjB3lrNC8upKOoIbdRAYIRtBzFG5eSahulLkymHZDFpPo7Vc1BN4wiDbdGAUcbJngSw9A1RuQVJXURC8nnK1_hFeRv7Y_ZT2JmWTB3BMUasjA/s1600/vredefeesten-balloons23-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQvVrtFnsrsfRQzTZNt6JQnyCyVVE8itjjB3lrNC8upKOoIbdRAYIRtBzFG5eSahulLkymHZDFpPo7Vc1BN4wiDbdGAUcbJngSw9A1RuQVJXURC8nnK1_hFeRv7Y_ZT2JmWTB3BMUasjA/s400/vredefeesten-balloons23-sm.JPG" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ta-da!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
I have to ask, would you be willing to go up in the air in that thing? It doesn't exactly look aerodynamic. And I suspect it needs better conditions than it had for really successful flights. As it was, it barely cleared the apartments on the other side of the square before it started descending. For all I know, it ended up in someone's back yard.<br />
<br />
Only one more balloon made it off the ground after our princess here, and that was the lion that had been used on all the advertising for the festival.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSuCmkLQiShMu0YyENgBNYQzyuk855TuBSQ5qE4Z4Flk5OBwcfH-vGOqxqq1QlVvkMj_qGwr1_h3G9jHF-jS9JGjDzih_SL13oVkWRZJRrWJqnlKzf1tiX5t24ymLBruWsX99Syq54Fh8/s1600/vredefeesten-balloons25-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="342" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSuCmkLQiShMu0YyENgBNYQzyuk855TuBSQ5qE4Z4Flk5OBwcfH-vGOqxqq1QlVvkMj_qGwr1_h3G9jHF-jS9JGjDzih_SL13oVkWRZJRrWJqnlKzf1tiX5t24ymLBruWsX99Syq54Fh8/s400/vredefeesten-balloons25-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a lion wearing a crown. I guess that makes him a lion king.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
If you can believe it, I didn't post all the pictures I like from this experience. In fact, a couple of my favorites are missing because they didn't fit into the narrative. If you're curious, and you're not 100% sick of balloons (and the word "balloon," which I might be), then you should head over to <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ursa_major/tags/vredefeesten/" target="_blank">my Flickr</a> to see what you've missed.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-28588782890008118012013-10-11T14:27:00.002+02:002013-10-11T14:27:57.951+02:00And ... Roll CreditsThis is the very last part of the Brussels post. Morgan and I dropped Emily off at the airport, and returned to spend the rest of the day in the city. Don't expect much from this post because it really consists of two things (spoiler!): wandering around, and spending the afternoon in a bar (but not just any bar!).<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoCm1qFPw7bHnb8Cc5d4iRoEYnZQmjdqxnXO1Ew4gmrx7jEIwWEQKKNEcxiHupfzifByFJ2fmMw60klleLeKGWwaL4irZgHCwAeTX65_IfbJsELmwzPm2MyaLDk6w38RBHrezURxtOEHg/s1600/brussels-colorfulbuilding-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoCm1qFPw7bHnb8Cc5d4iRoEYnZQmjdqxnXO1Ew4gmrx7jEIwWEQKKNEcxiHupfzifByFJ2fmMw60klleLeKGWwaL4irZgHCwAeTX65_IfbJsELmwzPm2MyaLDk6w38RBHrezURxtOEHg/s400/brussels-colorfulbuilding-sm.JPG" width="297" /></a></div>
We got back into the city from the airport around lunchtime, which meant finding a place to eat was our first task. Morgan had read about a place that was supposed to serve real American-style hamburgers, so we made that our destination. It was kind of a gloomy day, which seemed appropriate in a way. We walked around a bit, just looking at the different types of architecture.<br />
<br />
<br />
Brussels is certainly a lot more of a big city and a lot more modern than Gent is, with just over three times the population and the influence of being the seat of the EU and NATO. But there's a good amount of the old world on display, too.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpiQUo6NcIC2iW7SCfL9e5ZIfVyHrn_MCGPACEDsp7KkC7KyITuptjufaL9c6EylgCEtG2sWqJ33KiXTbV9qpxY-MRD7mQ828fgmUR4Ef3cpJXJ1aTEw6C-ykUXyL530bePZKHYsp0Dtg/s1600/brussels-boyandlionstatue-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpiQUo6NcIC2iW7SCfL9e5ZIfVyHrn_MCGPACEDsp7KkC7KyITuptjufaL9c6EylgCEtG2sWqJ33KiXTbV9qpxY-MRD7mQ828fgmUR4Ef3cpJXJ1aTEw6C-ykUXyL530bePZKHYsp0Dtg/s400/brussels-boyandlionstatue-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One kid gets a lion, and then every kid has to have a lion.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5eyLU9Ztu_JRcoj6j1FkCS1FRfzUARj47Mewbu87NVJtEO5IbScDX0Ll4x4Os6zohyBtt1PkISgaPXJWRavNSIW_20w-9eFJQi3V_1Yhc7IT95mtvouiArzjpBtEyvbyIuL2NOC0H0H0/s1600/brussels-tintinmural-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5eyLU9Ztu_JRcoj6j1FkCS1FRfzUARj47Mewbu87NVJtEO5IbScDX0Ll4x4Os6zohyBtt1PkISgaPXJWRavNSIW_20w-9eFJQi3V_1Yhc7IT95mtvouiArzjpBtEyvbyIuL2NOC0H0H0/s320/brussels-tintinmural-sm.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, and Tintin. There's also plenty of <br />
Tintin on display.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
The restaurant where we had lunch (<a href="http://www.ellisgourmetburger.com/en/menu" target="_blank">Ellis Gourmet Burgers</a>)
did in fact have burgers mostly like home, if a bit on the fancy side.
It's also the only place in this country I've ever been served ketchup
with my fries. It's funny, because I have never considered myself really
"into" burgers, but it was certainly a nice taste of home. I guess it
was something I'd missed without even realizing it. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
With lunch over, we made our way to the Delirium Tremens bar. As I mentioned in the last post, Delirium Tremens has been voted the
best beer in the world. The bar has a different claim to fame, though.
They got into the Guinness book of World Records for having the biggest
beer selection. They have an absolutely gigantic menu of all their
offerings, complete with pictures and descriptions. Even so, you might
as well just open randomly to a page and point, really.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzWsdZdFxFzfcc4mF6HBuyyS-OWfq7HzeuFa4iEc0xkoCYp0ZSLWoMwvc5lyukiOReD8DthnWs1IU3cNeOVUFgbZ2BT3FwYGp2tbDdpXHkyid3Q-1gOgLjM0sYSm4Su-abox_C2CygoR8/s1600/brussels-deliriumtremens-trays-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzWsdZdFxFzfcc4mF6HBuyyS-OWfq7HzeuFa4iEc0xkoCYp0ZSLWoMwvc5lyukiOReD8DthnWs1IU3cNeOVUFgbZ2BT3FwYGp2tbDdpXHkyid3Q-1gOgLjM0sYSm4Su-abox_C2CygoR8/s400/brussels-deliriumtremens-trays-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_cXJzLqhSwFQOLhPJAaOXpDfRp_KWFoZyorKGsgGeXREICftJ6v2jO3Mg_CytAJdfpN0vKl9Jvm1N7lzRXnWzzLxYlCpblRJ4QA3pIK5xj06hS47NHbKpSiw18kFK79nAFB5pSe1JOIo/s1600/deleriumtremens-nocturnem-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_cXJzLqhSwFQOLhPJAaOXpDfRp_KWFoZyorKGsgGeXREICftJ6v2jO3Mg_CytAJdfpN0vKl9Jvm1N7lzRXnWzzLxYlCpblRJ4QA3pIK5xj06hS47NHbKpSiw18kFK79nAFB5pSe1JOIo/s400/deleriumtremens-nocturnem-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is the Delirium Tremens Nocturnum, along with the standard<br />
Delirium beer, which he poured for me by mistake. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was absolutely in love with the Delirium Tremens Nocturnum, the dark beer in the photo above. If you're interested in what it tastes like, check out the comments on Beer Snob Central - I mean, <a href="http://beeradvocate.com/beer/profile/180/1421" target="_blank">Beer Advocate</a>. I kid; I would like to learn to recognize more tastes in beers, but I'm not very good at it just yet. Anyhow, you can get this one bottled in the rest of the world, so you should go and do that.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhL9VFUYf2nU0oCRUWy7arjDmXCPk-7DOYCfw5ndlgKL7uiLrPvXhQsXcmnqf17aqagZQquBB48BCXiBi7PqaC7qqmEx6hZQzcgVYRRsvXMZHGPpLFan8Tf6Auy4QZCn3KeNUPfGdq6Po/s1600/brussels-deliriumtremens-beer-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhL9VFUYf2nU0oCRUWy7arjDmXCPk-7DOYCfw5ndlgKL7uiLrPvXhQsXcmnqf17aqagZQquBB48BCXiBi7PqaC7qqmEx6hZQzcgVYRRsvXMZHGPpLFan8Tf6Auy4QZCn3KeNUPfGdq6Po/s400/brussels-deliriumtremens-beer-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't let the light color fool you; darker doesn't necessarily mean stronger.<br />
Although the Waterloo is a mere 7.5% abv, the Urthel Hop-It is 9.5%</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
You may notice that we had different types of glasses for each beer (the two from Delirium used the same glass). Belgians are very serious about their glassware. Often, bars will have branded glasses that are used for each beer. In a pinch, there are some broader types that will suffice.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirl7fEXwn_wV9f5MALRQFYoyKYWU2rhXha6RSsx1LDzf7tJDDRV00zqFWo7P25psSoyhm9x0FccTwzg6HHZMpvGFVfrw523r19YBh2hGPF2V5g0lQtTwn0XkJnRSLL06jDE7Zx9XxWUfc/s1600/brussels-deliriumtremens-glasses-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirl7fEXwn_wV9f5MALRQFYoyKYWU2rhXha6RSsx1LDzf7tJDDRV00zqFWo7P25psSoyhm9x0FccTwzg6HHZMpvGFVfrw523r19YBh2hGPF2V5g0lQtTwn0XkJnRSLL06jDE7Zx9XxWUfc/s400/brussels-deliriumtremens-glasses-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Like I said, they are <i>serious</i> about glassware.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It would have been easy to kill hours (or days) in the Delirium Cafe, and even if you should happen to get bored there, they have other options for you. On their tiny little street are also a Delirium Pub and Hop Loft (special assortment of hoppy beers), a rum bar, and an absinthe bar. We really wanted to check out the absinthe bar, but it didn't open till later in the evening and it was getting to be time to head back home to Gent. So, onto the "to do" list that went, for the next time we're in Brussels.<br />
<br />
The next post here will be all about balloons! Prepare for tons of photos.<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-33989756245955677642013-10-04T18:24:00.000+02:002013-10-04T18:24:22.439+02:00Brussels, No SproutsBefore I get into this post, I have to say that I left a couple of things out of the last post about Gent. I tend to use my photos as a way to remember what we did, so when we go places that don't allow photos, I promptly forget about them. But I do want to mention that we saw Van Eyck's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghent_Altarpiece" target="_blank">Adoration of the Mystic Lamb</a>, which is a big altarpiece whose home is Sint-Baafs cathedral here in Gent. We saw most of it in the cathedral itself, but part of it was at the STAM museum being restored, so we viewed those panels there.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/0e/Retable_de_l%27Agneau_mystique_(7).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/0/0e/Retable_de_l'Agneau_mystique_(7).jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is just one panel of it, but it's the part with the mystic lamb.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It's interesting to see, and worth the 6 Euros admission, standing in a crowded room with a bunch of other people, and the requirement of absolute silence while you view it.<br />
<br />
Okay, on to Brussels. This was, sadly, Emily's last day with us. We'd planned to spend this day in Brussels so that we could just wake up and head to the airport from there instead of having to get up even earlier to accommodate the train ride from Gent. It was a good plan, because 6:45 was plenty early enough to be getting up.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmPvs3_IyNP9Iuz4L_Z1Gn1vx2AUWv5sMGgzPhPkWCp4VWw7nBuTcprYqTvcQ34moqswXRhBZZS30zBUrNzezm3pv8B-hCdXUbdlSisvqH0-NE9fRzGODt2jvG3W8N9YQrkPOhdeKp7tU/s1600/brussels-grandplace1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmPvs3_IyNP9Iuz4L_Z1Gn1vx2AUWv5sMGgzPhPkWCp4VWw7nBuTcprYqTvcQ34moqswXRhBZZS30zBUrNzezm3pv8B-hCdXUbdlSisvqH0-NE9fRzGODt2jvG3W8N9YQrkPOhdeKp7tU/s320/brussels-grandplace1-sm.JPG" width="284" /></a></div>
The first spot we visited was the Grand Place. When you look around, it seems that "ornate" was the guiding principle for its design. It was full to overflowing with tourists, which made it difficult to get good photos, but easy to find someone to ask to take a photo of the three of us together. As it turns out, though, not everyone knows how to operate a camera all that well, so that photo will remain unseen. Never fear, though, other photos were taken.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgEXgALHoyTFlrB0UCjgOBc-_aM1O2-4TV3xdzdffdSiH2ZlQRpzAq9HkbY9DbWh5dy7rD2hldN5VpODD4tFpO4xuFVdh2uiRl76Yg89tM5vTpKZt-7YnSIqGAq77vo0aMqbrURazc32M/s1600/brussels-bikerstatue-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgEXgALHoyTFlrB0UCjgOBc-_aM1O2-4TV3xdzdffdSiH2ZlQRpzAq9HkbY9DbWh5dy7rD2hldN5VpODD4tFpO4xuFVdh2uiRl76Yg89tM5vTpKZt-7YnSIqGAq77vo0aMqbrURazc32M/s400/brussels-bikerstatue-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello, Kitty.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We wandered in the direction of what is probably Brussels' best-known attraction, which is Mannekin Pis. I'm not sure how I'd feel if my city was known for a statue of a little boy peeing, but Brussels seems to have embraced it fully. Replicas of it fill the souvenir shops; variations on the theme abound everywhere you turn in the city.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPcVuL-TaszgQva6DDqDo4R4GMjnmt-8Ns4A57-wgFyr9KHbyuC73RYLEsHoLglHRuze0QcFOFbWm5fnNS9X0FRcC3WZBJzYWJhu9kzbGs70Uuu5tnxyzN3dYp7aavv6-Q15hzgfo2fN0/s1600/brussels-mannekenfrites-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPcVuL-TaszgQva6DDqDo4R4GMjnmt-8Ns4A57-wgFyr9KHbyuC73RYLEsHoLglHRuze0QcFOFbWm5fnNS9X0FRcC3WZBJzYWJhu9kzbGs70Uuu5tnxyzN3dYp7aavv6-Q15hzgfo2fN0/s400/brussels-mannekenfrites-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How ... appetizing?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And as tacky and/or weird as the statue itself may be, we stumbled upon it at a most fortuitous moment which made it even tackier and weirder, but simultaneously more awesome. Some background: the statue gets periodically dressed up in a variety of costumes. There's a schedule, but we didn't bother to consult it because really, who cares? However, I had read that the statue has an extra-special costume that involves an extra-special ceremony, and as we approached the statue, I realized we had arrived at exactly the right moment.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhVrnsPn0YcxoYFm64DbT2rMdPqS2wxepID-79QcsuXLAbvgrGTgvTyihjMx3_2p_gwv4iLPXnEnbYw69dyXGv2eQ6w-ipjxRYlObwVRPZ4Q9ZdnLpLD3PYndyYZw0zVKBM4K6SVVq1bM/s1600/brussels-mannekenpis1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhVrnsPn0YcxoYFm64DbT2rMdPqS2wxepID-79QcsuXLAbvgrGTgvTyihjMx3_2p_gwv4iLPXnEnbYw69dyXGv2eQ6w-ipjxRYlObwVRPZ4Q9ZdnLpLD3PYndyYZw0zVKBM4K6SVVq1bM/s400/brussels-mannekenpis1-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is the statue, urinating normally. (I cannot <br />believe I just typed that sentence.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
He was wearing the colors and pink elephant logo of Delirium Tremens brewery. Delirium Tremens beer was at some point voted the best beer in the world. (And they don't intend to let you forget it.) Anyhow, there was a group of people dressed in the same outfit as the statue, holding forth about something (I don't speak French), and singing.<br />
<br />
<br />
After that was done, they sprayed the crowd with water.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ9F-1PRJpa-UbE-uuHt6AlJesQ-r4yk6gUjJd_PK0ot3rnT9PoB_U99DyQ8VZdAmPE3V8IW6X7jZWp3Dsd_EaINMc7aaXrnYPA_PeOPFmuIuA4FMj7Trk6d2gGNsvP8e3Z1gqMcpXx3U/s1600/brussels-mannekenpis2-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ9F-1PRJpa-UbE-uuHt6AlJesQ-r4yk6gUjJd_PK0ot3rnT9PoB_U99DyQ8VZdAmPE3V8IW6X7jZWp3Dsd_EaINMc7aaXrnYPA_PeOPFmuIuA4FMj7Trk6d2gGNsvP8e3Z1gqMcpXx3U/s400/brussels-mannekenpis2-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, seriously.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then it was time to really get down to business. They disconnected Manneken Pis from his water supply ... and hooked him up to a keg.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrY7vNNq0GkG856cpUmVLGjrgZK2-4baLJq1Jo992zadNh6B3BJ-hMJOQMINfWHq_IczWxXleVOqpjk4z7hCKMcz7sEYZAW7xX7jDeAcUVX0QqBxcfVXhILFfqoBmxW_I8glTQY3-CF9U/s1600/brussels-mannekenpis3-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrY7vNNq0GkG856cpUmVLGjrgZK2-4baLJq1Jo992zadNh6B3BJ-hMJOQMINfWHq_IczWxXleVOqpjk4z7hCKMcz7sEYZAW7xX7jDeAcUVX0QqBxcfVXhILFfqoBmxW_I8glTQY3-CF9U/s400/brussels-mannekenpis3-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Again, seriously.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The cups they filled from the statue were only for the costumed folks involved in the ceremony, but once they'd hooked him back up to the regular water, they filled cups from the keg and passed out free beer.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgivCeckLRfapEdbzuN74nPRGkgQvsQGEcayJrOvNb_GDiMESXM0gDHnnfVDmWRz4A3COKFi9MfDQc_ZHVgnFMRZj6dibzA2_80qOx3OVBTk10CfDqkfel5CySK39r-xdp3ASNs4KJJfrw/s1600/brussels-emily-morgan-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgivCeckLRfapEdbzuN74nPRGkgQvsQGEcayJrOvNb_GDiMESXM0gDHnnfVDmWRz4A3COKFi9MfDQc_ZHVgnFMRZj6dibzA2_80qOx3OVBTk10CfDqkfel5CySK39r-xdp3ASNs4KJJfrw/s400/brussels-emily-morgan-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Now you're talking.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We were pretty sure we weren't going to top that as far as being equal parts strange and cool, but we ventured on anyway.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN621NSDOMvRd4gcH1OF77dYUsYeqZOdzowkJqxXmQQ330gBpvPBucfc8oi1I4xyx4_djKML9M53FjL3vZQV8iIZoSohjyK6cxsP2ch-J_jWmFIzsBjrjaeeEfjHIFO7SiTsRXOER9BZw/s1600/brussels-hall-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN621NSDOMvRd4gcH1OF77dYUsYeqZOdzowkJqxXmQQ330gBpvPBucfc8oi1I4xyx4_djKML9M53FjL3vZQV8iIZoSohjyK6cxsP2ch-J_jWmFIzsBjrjaeeEfjHIFO7SiTsRXOER9BZw/s400/brussels-hall-sm.JPG" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arcade of the Galeries Saint-Hubert</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We did some chocolate shopping at <a href="http://www.corneportroyal.com/en.htm" target="_blank">Corné</a> in the Galeries Saint-Hubert. It was a brand we hadn't seen in Gent, and we enjoyed their offerings very much.<br />
<br />
Dinner was at a restaurant near our hotel, and it was an interesting experience. Although Brussels is in theory the only bilingual city in Belgium, in practice this doesn't mean quite what you'd expect. Signs and other notices are in both French and Dutch, in contrast to the rest of the country where only one language is used. However, French is overwhelmingly the language you'll hear in Brussels. So, back to the restaurant: we were greeted by the hostess with "Bon soir, goedenavond." The menu was in Dutch and French. Since we are considerably more comfortable with Dutch than French (which may tell you something about the state of our French!), we attempted to order in Dutch. What we got was a confused look from the waiter, so we attempted English. More baffled expressions. The absolute confusion on his part continued until we mangled our way through the French versions of what we wanted.<br />
<br />
One might think, well, perhaps he doesn't speak Dutch very well. Or English. Maybe, but when a group of Chinese tourists came in to be seated, he spoke English to them. With us, however, it was the all-French hour. We made our way awkwardly through ordering, and were feeling a little unwelcome as he continued to speak English to the Chinese people and French to us, and shortly before our dinners arrived, I realized Emily's place setting didn't have a napkin. So I mustered up my courage and my tiny French vocabulary, and when the waiter returned, I said, "S'il vous plait ... une serviette?" After that, the mood seemed to change. He brought the napkin, and when he brought our meals, he also had a dish of potato croquettes we hadn't asked for. We joked that it seemed to be a "sorry I was being a jerk" offering, and indeed, he was much more friendly the rest of our time there. Go figure.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, the night ended all too soon and the next morning we went to the airport and had to say goodbye to Emily. Like all good vacations, it hadn't felt too hurried while we were seeing everything, but all of a sudden, it was over.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPbjn-I5csUjmt0I4ElFQjmO9U5zg84W7MehFPci8nHmeZiJbUj8lAhsHEdG2qp7BtXkC6wxTNelmXBHT75Wmh6HcQUJ9Z1ssWfK79UyB3vb-KUP-CaG-z0yhgZllG0uRLbDdtw7YrdKs/s1600/brussels-morgan-ursula-emily-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPbjn-I5csUjmt0I4ElFQjmO9U5zg84W7MehFPci8nHmeZiJbUj8lAhsHEdG2qp7BtXkC6wxTNelmXBHT75Wmh6HcQUJ9Z1ssWfK79UyB3vb-KUP-CaG-z0yhgZllG0uRLbDdtw7YrdKs/s400/brussels-morgan-ursula-emily-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good times, good times.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Next up: probably more Brussels (Morgan and I spent the rest of the day there after Emily headed home), and then hot air balloons in Sint-Niklaas. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-25028920964256802792013-09-26T22:14:00.002+02:002013-09-27T07:30:38.847+02:00Kicking Around HomeWhile Emily was here, we had some scattered days that we spent in Gent in amongst all the trips to places near and far. I saved all of those days up, figuring I'd consolidate all of it into one post before drawing our time with Emily to a close. So hold onto your hats, we're going on a whirlwind tour of what we did in Gent.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2AUVE93YMWqktuTLNcxMAXjHRWB3MsZFkzVhezazhtbliywSpPY03T0X116pvV8_hVEAfLKK8EtPSA3iaXTn9MMHaI3Lfi56NiMaaSOUWTyGnhyZYBNPX-cft-gp0pvBplE3qjJjBe2s/s1600/gent-belfort1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2AUVE93YMWqktuTLNcxMAXjHRWB3MsZFkzVhezazhtbliywSpPY03T0X116pvV8_hVEAfLKK8EtPSA3iaXTn9MMHaI3Lfi56NiMaaSOUWTyGnhyZYBNPX-cft-gp0pvBplE3qjJjBe2s/s400/gent-belfort1-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Empire State Building, it's not.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I met her at the airport in Brussels at midday and we took the train back to Gent. I told her there would be no sleep until a normal bedtime (tough love is the only way to combat jet lag), and asked if she felt up to riding a bike. She did, so off we went to visit the city center. First we went up to the observation level of the belfry. Even though I'd been up there before, it was nice to see the view on a sunny day.<br />
<br />
We spent a while looking around at the city, and we also got to watch the big steel drum that controls the bells go to work on the quarter-hour. It's kind of like a giant version of what works a player piano.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijW4YZ_CXHmqxa7yZVJ06b7TfMj9gYTb7Oz3zIbid2-31w5S7qvvlJYF2jZFBTzwmdGFYXdPne3hpuipRVUkJpTv-w0QId4KeJ8BVJwf-RMg70qC6uov0fx2JZA6vpqmcwlhJgVWA2SMk/s1600/belfort-sunny-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijW4YZ_CXHmqxa7yZVJ06b7TfMj9gYTb7Oz3zIbid2-31w5S7qvvlJYF2jZFBTzwmdGFYXdPne3hpuipRVUkJpTv-w0QId4KeJ8BVJwf-RMg70qC6uov0fx2JZA6vpqmcwlhJgVWA2SMk/s400/belfort-sunny-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had lunch sitting by that green area.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We just sort of wandered the city center and checked everything out, which included the graffiti street.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmRatDOk_wp34H2YLNiASMRawXOegXFDJpoRaLgJl30nj-r32crM_WbljgnTGRxd6MGUtJEbWvRz91273FztT7mZE4GxP7uxGVIsnfyv1Z3k9FtWfbuF2PTzFlBZVaOq2e2Of8S1tRhtg/s1600/emily-graffitistraatje.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmRatDOk_wp34H2YLNiASMRawXOegXFDJpoRaLgJl30nj-r32crM_WbljgnTGRxd6MGUtJEbWvRz91273FztT7mZE4GxP7uxGVIsnfyv1Z3k9FtWfbuF2PTzFlBZVaOq2e2Of8S1tRhtg/s400/emily-graffitistraatje.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Emily says, "I've been traveling for 16 hours and you want to take <br />
pictures of me? Really?"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Dinner was Surinamese food and the first beers of the trip. Welcome to legal drinking at the age of 19! After all of that, it was late enough that I had mercy on her and let her go to sleep. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCpyPG6ok6y-UP0LeojYcHUJnY4cx3sPURo8vdITIKMckF-U4Ho73Ft9T_yJB5AEesoerFUtVHg3_ywUyjQWLyIBvTbl8k84j_u5Q3Qlb4CyNIW235NIUTR-2Q3t8ssQpIYMYb_d8xf2c/s1600/emilyandstropdrager-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCpyPG6ok6y-UP0LeojYcHUJnY4cx3sPURo8vdITIKMckF-U4Ho73Ft9T_yJB5AEesoerFUtVHg3_ywUyjQWLyIBvTbl8k84j_u5Q3Qlb4CyNIW235NIUTR-2Q3t8ssQpIYMYb_d8xf2c/s400/emilyandstropdrager-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You'd think maybe he'd have worn something<br />
a little less form-fitting to see the King.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next day, we did some more riding around and exploring. We took a photo as part of our "Emily with Statues" project. I'm not even sure exactly how this got started, but now whenever we see a statue, Emily poses with it. So she paused for a moment with the Stropdrager (noose bearer, the symbol of Gent) before we went on our way.<br />
<br />
In the evening, we took her to a bar (don't judge, let me explain first - it was a cultural experience). It was a jenever bar, and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jenever" target="_blank">jenever</a> is a traditional drink in Belgium. It's kind of like a mild gin - it's juniper-flavored in theory, but it's not so strong-tasting as gin. "Young" jenever is a neutral spirit, so you can flavor it like you can vodka. The guy who owns the bar does exactly that - he has a menu of a bunch of different flavors. We tried some fruity ones like pomegranate and sour apple, and some creamy ones like vanilla and coffee.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZXsCeKe07CpvTdQU21bwTfietOCKgo2ujx6RmXv9nbF3OqQIwsSsYYdTcbWjlrUub_xceeSVp2XJLc9M3Cv-k2t5vxUyEbpKzE6M1b3FhCVGKUMls8UTvgcZrxvi6fuGPA-vqRHHrko/s1600/tdreupelkot-emily.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQZXsCeKe07CpvTdQU21bwTfietOCKgo2ujx6RmXv9nbF3OqQIwsSsYYdTcbWjlrUub_xceeSVp2XJLc9M3Cv-k2t5vxUyEbpKzE6M1b3FhCVGKUMls8UTvgcZrxvi6fuGPA-vqRHHrko/s400/tdreupelkot-emily.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is Emily's photo of the sign for the bar ('t Dreupelkot).<br />
That's the owner's picture up on the sign. He looks exactly like that, too.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We tried to check out the Bij Sint-Jacobs flea market on Friday morning, but it was rainy and by the time we got there, they were all packing up their goods. So instead we sat in one of the little spots nearby and had some coffee together while the rain subsided. I have to admit that the warm coffee in a cozy place made the wet bike ride worth it! Since the rain had stopped, we headed out to St. Bavo's Abbey, which was mostly destroyed by someone (probably Charles V, he seems to have caused a lot of trouble around here) and now stands as partially-overgrown ruins.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx2ERxXijlDXeIucjQ8JJ7jJuX5C567Hh35QndHlJC5kBsEzy6r2qSRpjqhtPj9nM0nmQt10ZI6yc9u2eVd8gXtSocGha8xi013AUY43i3sFMNYWku29RoDf38vB93oBpNPEPVtBa06xw/s1600/sint-baafsabdij-arches-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx2ERxXijlDXeIucjQ8JJ7jJuX5C567Hh35QndHlJC5kBsEzy6r2qSRpjqhtPj9nM0nmQt10ZI6yc9u2eVd8gXtSocGha8xi013AUY43i3sFMNYWku29RoDf38vB93oBpNPEPVtBa06xw/s400/sint-baafsabdij-arches-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But scenic partially-overgrown ruins.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
On the last day we spent together in Gent, I was running a doozy of a fever (unbeknownst to me until the end of the day). But that didn't slow us down! We went to the <i>real</i> English Bookshop, a used bookstore for English-language books run by a British guy. (Note: I say the <i>real</i> one because there is another store called the English Bookshop, but they apparently exist so that Belgians can practice their English, not for native speakers of English. In other words, they have a million English grammar books and some bestselling books, but no books in English that help you learn Dutch.) Book shopping together is always fun, and it was nice to help Emily pick out a book for her travels home, although she read half of it before she left. (If you're curious, the book was <a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/29044.The_Secret_History" target="_blank"><i>The Secret History</i></a>.)<br />
<br />
We also toured Gravensteen, which is a castle sitting in the middle of the city.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG6h5OaglvcOwKi3i3eM_LTMRmXMBBuCuAm1p6ApEfQ-MFzPXrg26sCGkaz8xazEy6rrtyGRHugpi-X50E1MMAvkKdpjgNu1jdm91n_B0MIN4MhrwSWR1oWRNM7jDgM51KXrDXdiieybs/s1600/gravensteen-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG6h5OaglvcOwKi3i3eM_LTMRmXMBBuCuAm1p6ApEfQ-MFzPXrg26sCGkaz8xazEy6rrtyGRHugpi-X50E1MMAvkKdpjgNu1jdm91n_B0MIN4MhrwSWR1oWRNM7jDgM51KXrDXdiieybs/s400/gravensteen-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seriously, I live in a city that has something like this just plopped<br />
in the middle of it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Inside, you get to see the pits where prisoners were kept, a guillotine, and a display of torture implements. Fun for the whole family! Afterwards, we shopped for chocolates for Emily to take home, and we had waffles together in the Groentenmarkt square.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYJ_FpjDEDRkMLw8CAN5ptJuYMxwPaqRvcV4UXGSsmvf8ZXD09XR3vVVCoD1jqSmc-a-hcim5rEssVBMvQ4QczDaaW5dUA0DcreDuOrlw4QYtFrvUj6IIt52XeriOCF7e2t-mMtagykI/s1600/gent-waffle-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkYJ_FpjDEDRkMLw8CAN5ptJuYMxwPaqRvcV4UXGSsmvf8ZXD09XR3vVVCoD1jqSmc-a-hcim5rEssVBMvQ4QczDaaW5dUA0DcreDuOrlw4QYtFrvUj6IIt52XeriOCF7e2t-mMtagykI/s400/gent-waffle-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Waffle.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And just like that, somehow our time was up in Gent. It was time for Emily to pack her suitcase and for us to head to Brussels for a day before putting her on a plane back home. I'll leave you with a photo we asked someone to take for us. Emily very carefully figured out where we'd need to stand to have Gravensteen visible behind us, and then found someone to ask to take our photo. Emily explained we wanted Gravensteen there between us. Said person then kept asking us to move closer together, completely unconcerned that we were going to be blotting out the castle. In the end, it all worked out though - mom, daughter, canal, castle, puffy white clouds. What more could you ask for?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXwPjzAP2Kc7GcOgZkI6tHi3In7nLGCI0lEgXk7NdZTN71N6vcOnd5n6XgTbmWHl2hZYAl2-s33z60lOhE4pnOgmuZzWIohE69CTtHj8eZVG1wkQxWiB5yEanuwRnUoZrrIKj7Ka7ivc/s1600/ursula-emily-gent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXwPjzAP2Kc7GcOgZkI6tHi3In7nLGCI0lEgXk7NdZTN71N6vcOnd5n6XgTbmWHl2hZYAl2-s33z60lOhE4pnOgmuZzWIohE69CTtHj8eZVG1wkQxWiB5yEanuwRnUoZrrIKj7Ka7ivc/s400/ursula-emily-gent.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-57485239759686960252013-09-22T19:11:00.001+02:002013-09-22T19:11:37.324+02:00Even More FrenchThe day after we went to Liège, we continued on our French-speaking way (we didn't plan it that way) and went for a day trip to Lille, France. Lille is, interestingly, in what is considered "French Flanders." So it's like the area of Belgium we live in, except they speak French. There's some history there involving Louis XIV claiming it for France and ultimately taking it away from Flanders, which the citizens were none too thrilled with at the time. But they got over it, started speaking French, and now, 350 or so years later, they seem pretty fluent in it.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvf_uBue0lE10H33nhH9fj-Gb6AE2mSsK-TdkQEip-QtW-Fl_IdgL8wFIgTbMt97kQy5ZBF8g-XMsuOUFqGy57HiKej_kQGyu1rMacFqlBZcBraeQREORdQ2MsQH0VGH3_Qmc0ILV_Ew/s1600/lille-square-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsvf_uBue0lE10H33nhH9fj-Gb6AE2mSsK-TdkQEip-QtW-Fl_IdgL8wFIgTbMt97kQy5ZBF8g-XMsuOUFqGy57HiKej_kQGyu1rMacFqlBZcBraeQREORdQ2MsQH0VGH3_Qmc0ILV_Ew/s400/lille-square-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lille looks like a completely charming mash-up of French and<br />
Flemish ideas.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We went without a plan, or any idea what was of interest to see. Well, actually our plan was "be in France, and see what Lille is all about," so we wandered around and soaked up the atmosphere. First, we checked out the Grand Place, which is where the buildings above were.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGD2FNLpW4wp8pfL6GFgPMp9t5CBRyjwAvjOJCp_89drARKVAjwdKhJj_IpVenJRYc2t2jHBlJW02cVHKaPCn-OfIErxo0r1BdM24tI7YAoNSybVZUB29qV5WHnj_uptI7Swr7iT0-aQ4/s1600/lille-statue-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGD2FNLpW4wp8pfL6GFgPMp9t5CBRyjwAvjOJCp_89drARKVAjwdKhJj_IpVenJRYc2t2jHBlJW02cVHKaPCn-OfIErxo0r1BdM24tI7YAoNSybVZUB29qV5WHnj_uptI7Swr7iT0-aQ4/s400/lille-statue-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Column of the Goddess, aka the Memorial of<br />
the Siege of 1792.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The Column of the Goddess is a memorial of the Siege of 1792, during the French Revolution. The city was bombarded by Austrian cannonballs but didn't give in. Apparently at least one of the building façades still has cannonballs embedded in it. Interesting side note: she is wearing what is called a "mural crown," which <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mural_crown" target="_blank">according to the ever-helpful Wikipedia</a> represents a town or city, and so marks the statue as a sort of patron of the city.<br />
<br />
Since we had arrived at about lunchtime, our next order of business was to find a place to eat. We stumbled upon a crepes place, and that sounded like a good idea to all of us. I didn't get photos of our savory crepes because we devoured them much too fast, but when it was time for dessert crepes I had a bit more presence of mind.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPRR1Kg8f7P6a80ln5rbDitWfHSZsM0-Ux3m_jyGcQZgub9rGuZMn69Ih89b9FtJP4yddmtHJb080z8iGCEnNC7KAOqhWi9dHUuA6swsdaJvyyBB2YM_jIYGkJZ5pVYg42MKjsD4DU-J8/s1600/lille-crepes1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPRR1Kg8f7P6a80ln5rbDitWfHSZsM0-Ux3m_jyGcQZgub9rGuZMn69Ih89b9FtJP4yddmtHJb080z8iGCEnNC7KAOqhWi9dHUuA6swsdaJvyyBB2YM_jIYGkJZ5pVYg42MKjsD4DU-J8/s400/lille-crepes1-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cassonade, or Lille sugar.<br />
Behind mine is Morgan's, which has ice cream lurking under it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_dZhDw-vU0Tnbqqxhfd6ds3CKXzNZZ7J0dGy_Q5esUsKbDiz02kCrhuImtrFdlHuA6-X_pKw37A2br7qm2uQt4bmaoyzmSgsBFkMy_XuxoHucu6_EhAuCSCqgXijZu7nnQ-nL7pcPSA/s1600/lille-crepes2-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS_dZhDw-vU0Tnbqqxhfd6ds3CKXzNZZ7J0dGy_Q5esUsKbDiz02kCrhuImtrFdlHuA6-X_pKw37A2br7qm2uQt4bmaoyzmSgsBFkMy_XuxoHucu6_EhAuCSCqgXijZu7nnQ-nL7pcPSA/s400/lille-crepes2-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The wind thoroughly foiled the waiter's attempts to set Emily's on fire.<br />
I mean, the alcohol on this one. He wasn't trying to incinerate her crepe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I had no idea what "Lille sugar" was, but it seemed like the appropriate thing to order. I have since learned that the French are <a href="http://www.davidlebovitz.com/2009/11/french-sugars/" target="_blank">very serious about their sugar</a>. It turns out it's a moist, fine version of brown sugar. I thought it tasted a little different than American brown sugar, though I don't know that I can describe exactly how. Suffice it to say, it was delicious. Morgan's crepe had a chestnut sauce, and Emily's had Grand Marnier that refused to be set on fire and I forget what the sauce was. The point of all this is, the crepes were delicious and I would take the train to Lille again just to have them.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUPuuNrqIAOUkraADouIfJskQ1h6S5fJZWsPGvDGjsTEpLL4hBjeRqcWREP5i6RdMG4sS9Ydcit6GT8-bTkwYxigpovAFNAR1Wy9sn0I27ty4rASUu3SpvXihdWcDxVtgc3iFwGUIsIus/s1600/lille-raindelay-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUPuuNrqIAOUkraADouIfJskQ1h6S5fJZWsPGvDGjsTEpLL4hBjeRqcWREP5i6RdMG4sS9Ydcit6GT8-bTkwYxigpovAFNAR1Wy9sn0I27ty4rASUu3SpvXihdWcDxVtgc3iFwGUIsIus/s400/lille-raindelay-sm.JPG" width="301" /></a></div>
While we were out walking, it started raining. We weren't sure if that was going to put an end to our exploration or not, but we quickly realized that everyone around us was taking temporary shelter under store awnings, so we followed suit. If the locals thought it was something that could just be waited out, we figured we'd trust them. In about 10 minutes, the rain passed over us and everyone went on about their business. It was a fun little shared moment with everyone.<br />
<br />
And of course, there was a church. There are always churches. This one was Saint-Maurice. which Wikipedia tells me was started in the 14th century but not completed until the 19th. We had a good (if probably blasphemous) laugh over finding a statue of St. Expeditus. "Must be the patron saint of UPS drivers," I said. (Note: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Expeditus" target="_blank">as it turns out</a>, he's apparently the saint to ask for help keeping you from procrastinating, and he's also the patron saint of hackers. Hm.)<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBKhgWYKF2ElFrP-ehH0M71UHTn30LyQbaMHz28o6rUToU4_cBXhtZVtAiwI5WwFP3WRO8OXvN1D3CTcKwThu3werDeWtO7XehSlGjPPT3B_jxmkzxFb6M19KifKqCmIZxd9XG-nvfMUs/s1600/lille-church-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBKhgWYKF2ElFrP-ehH0M71UHTn30LyQbaMHz28o6rUToU4_cBXhtZVtAiwI5WwFP3WRO8OXvN1D3CTcKwThu3werDeWtO7XehSlGjPPT3B_jxmkzxFb6M19KifKqCmIZxd9XG-nvfMUs/s400/lille-church-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lille has the world's slowest church-builders.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We also saw the (outside of the) Palais des Beaux-Arts. I just read that it's the largest French museum outside of Paris. I guess that when I go back to Lille for more crepes, I should check that museum out, too.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-WST2QqNfxog70HFtWqSul8kizbRTa0iFkFpOqLtTKAXahU-32t2DlMQVesEp1aox-DvZXZYgS6hvsgMkQGsfTHpataeFSJq3-eb38n42qSeXdvmZFDq-PDw-345c27EYHO4qTGacik0/s1600/lille-architecture-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-WST2QqNfxog70HFtWqSul8kizbRTa0iFkFpOqLtTKAXahU-32t2DlMQVesEp1aox-DvZXZYgS6hvsgMkQGsfTHpataeFSJq3-eb38n42qSeXdvmZFDq-PDw-345c27EYHO4qTGacik0/s400/lille-architecture-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's bigger on the inside, I think.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We had coffee, did some people-watching, and let the cacophony of French conversations all around just wash over us. It was a casual, relaxing day, and a nice way to get a feel for this particular corner of France. And with the end of our day in Lille, the end of Emily's time in Europe was also fast approaching. We had just one more stop to make - Brussels. But for the blog, there'll be an additional stop: I'm going to do a post summing up the days we spent in Gent, which were interspersed among these other trips I've been writing about. For the time being, I'll leave you with a last photo from Lille. (You know you can always click on a photo to see a larger version of it, right?)<br />
<br />
And since it's probably bad form to end a blog post on a parenthetical statement, I'll also add that somewhere at the end of all the blathering about these visits, I'll post links to where you can see more photos from each place, because there definitely <i>are</i> more photos!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6trffYzUffxcRFVIdKEvGAt1uiJiltRp7dadKTdPRy8Z0cMWfrObqi42bwLsFPsdAznJKMA3CPAbH4XsQzpYCo_Tmj8nZ0Ktrlu6nMKsAwlJAAEA50hIWXnbjwdooG4ZChKIQENa481A/s1600/lille-relief-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6trffYzUffxcRFVIdKEvGAt1uiJiltRp7dadKTdPRy8Z0cMWfrObqi42bwLsFPsdAznJKMA3CPAbH4XsQzpYCo_Tmj8nZ0Ktrlu6nMKsAwlJAAEA50hIWXnbjwdooG4ZChKIQENa481A/s400/lille-relief-sm.JPG" width="275" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is a lot going on here, and I understand<br />
almost none of it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-32367020754271049132013-09-15T21:26:00.001+02:002013-09-15T21:26:51.282+02:00A Dash to WalloniaIn looking around for what might be going on during the time Emily was visiting, I read about the <a href="http://www.brusselslife.be/en/article/15-august-celebrations-in-liege" target="_blank">15 August festival</a> in Liège. I figured it might be fun to see, and also it would get us to Wallonia, so that she (and Morgan and I) could experience the French-speaking part of Belgium.<br />
<br />
Digression about Belgium and its 3 national languages: It is true that Belgium officially has 3 national languages: Dutch, French and German. You may also hear Belgian Dutch and Belgian French referred to as Flemish and Walloon; these are dialects used in Belgium. If you come from somewhere that doesn't have multiple national languages, you might think having several means that the country operates bilingually. In the case of Belgium, you'd be very wrong. Instead, in Flanders, everything is in Dutch. People in stores speak Dutch, signs are in Dutch, etc. If you came here without knowing that there were other national languages, you'd have no reason to think there were. If you go to Liège, on the other hand, everything will be in French. You'll get "bon jour" instead of "goede morgen," "merci" instead of "dank u," and all signs are in French. (Presumably it's the same in the German-speaking area, although that's a tiny amount of the country and apparently fading fast, being consumed by the French speakers.)<br />
<br />
We got a late start on the day, and there aren't that many trains that stop in Liège, so we were in a bit of a rush when we got to the station. We were trying to figure out which train we had to take, but couldn't find it listed on any of the routes. After a bit of going back and forth, we found the station name (Guillemins), and realized we hadn't seen it because it was listed with the Dutch version of the name - Luik. (Yes, even the city names are different, and although you can often tell which is which (Oostende in Dutch is Ostend in French, Gent is Gand, Brussel is Bruxelles, etc.), sometimes you can't, as with Luik/Liège or in an extreme case - Bergen/Mons. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUqA-vjerjkMofnlmQ-kBURl4wloYMC_95YJbFYFlZssJSruYdrFG00d7xMo6N7XSKpoaKbiXidtjctEbGDYAWugGRivP2331HlcHtpgnscEZYcguAIgOU9E_3gJUykvbAyuMQMDQOidE/s1600/liegetrainstation1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUqA-vjerjkMofnlmQ-kBURl4wloYMC_95YJbFYFlZssJSruYdrFG00d7xMo6N7XSKpoaKbiXidtjctEbGDYAWugGRivP2331HlcHtpgnscEZYcguAIgOU9E_3gJUykvbAyuMQMDQOidE/s400/liegetrainstation1-sm.JPG" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Liège train station made me feel like we were <br />
arriving in an episode of "The Jetsons."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We made the train, though, and shortly arrived in Liège. Now we just had to make our way to the appropriate part of the city for the festival. Morgan found an information desk, and she told us which bus to take. When we got on the bus, he asked the driver for confirmation that the bus was going to the festival. The driver seemed to speak no English at all, so, unable to cobble together anything intelligible in French, we just had to hope for the best. After going what seemed like a long way on the bus, we found an area where a lot of pedestrians seemed to be headed in one direction, so we followed them.<br />
<br />
We came upon a carnival along the street and started looking for something to eat, since it was a little past lunchtime. The streets were lined with cafes, but they mostly seemed to be for drinking only. We happened upon a little stand with a couple of guys selling samosas, so we got those. Morgan talked to the guy for a while; they had been in Belgium for a couple of years and were broke, so they thought they'd try to take advantage of the festival and set up a stand outside the convenience store. The samosas were very good!<br />
<br />
Then we saw that people were lining up in preparation for a parade. Who doesn't love a parade? Information about the festival mentioned "the giants of Liège" as being part of the festival, but I didn't know what they were talking about until they appeared.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgHEDOJt2FGAL1UQ5S2osgXYMAXwev6gDAK8DY8ciU6F_SkrjFy4A3SwL41JjI8U1dr9kUEebDazQHqCpIjTGmD9ka8PHo7qiv_J21in2fKUGqdh1PU26-0IjBRgzzCCWkxMT2zc8TS9M/s1600/liege-giant2-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgHEDOJt2FGAL1UQ5S2osgXYMAXwev6gDAK8DY8ciU6F_SkrjFy4A3SwL41JjI8U1dr9kUEebDazQHqCpIjTGmD9ka8PHo7qiv_J21in2fKUGqdh1PU26-0IjBRgzzCCWkxMT2zc8TS9M/s400/liege-giant2-sm.JPG" width="280" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You can see the little window for the operator in <br />
her apron if you look closely.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
They're really fun, and range from humorous to amazingly realistic to terrifying in a second-grade-craft-project sort of way. They're worn by someone who is inside a wicker frame, and looks out of a window in the crotch area of the giant (sorry there's not a more delicate way to put that). One of the qualifications seems to be an imperviousness to getting dizzy, since whenever the parade comes to a stop (which seems to happen a lot), the giant will dance and spin in circles to give the crowd a good view of it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbXyzeEjzzCgn1yktzLWSBRWRPICuw_RDMJy7CaanWfcn1OYOicnUiwOpVqYqCurm_c30sue4JBMmuHfzFzu86McDObQbNrJcaEouqqd48sHnI4EdKBujimKl04UUKKiT9x0xSysnh9Hk/s1600/liege-giant3-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbXyzeEjzzCgn1yktzLWSBRWRPICuw_RDMJy7CaanWfcn1OYOicnUiwOpVqYqCurm_c30sue4JBMmuHfzFzu86McDObQbNrJcaEouqqd48sHnI4EdKBujimKl04UUKKiT9x0xSysnh9Hk/s400/liege-giant3-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8d9Zd8p-SULbLhis4D5sEE0IGvjTHdYSYYdcftSIv6Tz9gNSLuv5_5IXDgPiWlzHM40WsZNxAztfTh4QJdoJt3Mnw2UAYXzftSJeli5XPSD33aVVtSJTY3kIpteBg02XpLmvouGv3_0/s1600/liege-giant5-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8d9Zd8p-SULbLhis4D5sEE0IGvjTHdYSYYdcftSIv6Tz9gNSLuv5_5IXDgPiWlzHM40WsZNxAztfTh4QJdoJt3Mnw2UAYXzftSJeli5XPSD33aVVtSJTY3kIpteBg02XpLmvouGv3_0/s400/liege-giant5-sm.JPG" width="263" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The guy operating the knight in particular had<br />
strong inner ears. He spun around until <i>I</i> got dizzy,<br />
but he never seemed in danger of falling over.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
In that last photo, you can see that they all have a group of handlers, presumably to keep them on the parade track since visibility isn't very good, I imagine. Also, they probably have to keep them from rampaging through the crowds causing mayhem if they start to believe they really <i>are</i> giants.<br />
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The rest of the parade was relatively standard - dancers, bands of various sorts, human marionettes ... all the usual.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicEYFRTjiAvr9rFe9jum1fYRZNlO2Uom5G4ZFBBluAdfsyX3oMFYDoZJNKNqYp2sjRpxEv5yUIWTCJpa64q-gDNnKHye5Ukr-rkFmyuLCBWxZKwUlaHYA7XLMfkUPPhHJAF9Jl6qhhAC4/s1600/liege-man-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicEYFRTjiAvr9rFe9jum1fYRZNlO2Uom5G4ZFBBluAdfsyX3oMFYDoZJNKNqYp2sjRpxEv5yUIWTCJpa64q-gDNnKHye5Ukr-rkFmyuLCBWxZKwUlaHYA7XLMfkUPPhHJAF9Jl6qhhAC4/s400/liege-man-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oh, and this guy. He was nearly my favorite.</td></tr>
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The best part, though, was when this came through:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbSSL_-F17xvrux3muP3DAbKIcBR3eW7qEJdW42p0OvoIKjintv7mGb2AfjSByGSlT5OLgiCaGSoUKE1RHyb2SQODNJXnfXo5UkF3M15YvQuLtJZmgHzpnBGy1q-1Y0eA-fngyPkmtbU/s1600/liege-witches1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbSSL_-F17xvrux3muP3DAbKIcBR3eW7qEJdW42p0OvoIKjintv7mGb2AfjSByGSlT5OLgiCaGSoUKE1RHyb2SQODNJXnfXo5UkF3M15YvQuLtJZmgHzpnBGy1q-1Y0eA-fngyPkmtbU/s400/liege-witches1-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had no idea what these people were, but I said to Emily as soon as I saw<br />
them, "Hm, watch out for these guys!"</td></tr>
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They were masked witches, carrying brooms and wearing wigs of hay. They also wore clogs, which they used like skates; they'd run and then slide on them directly at the crowd. Once they're right in front of you, they take a handful of rice from the bag around their waist and drop it over your head. Or in my case, down your shirt. They also throw rice generally over the crowd as they pass. Emily and I got pretty well riced, since we were in the very front of the crowd. We left feeling like we'd had a real cultural experience, though who knows what its significance was.<br />
<br />
Okay, I had to break down and look it up. Apparently they're called
"macrales" in Walloon, and they appear at various festivals. They're
blamed for a number of woes, including the onset of winter. Here's a video of some different (and considerably more subdued) ones at a parade somewhere else in Wallonia.<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/L4-16cTxV60?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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We finished off our time in Liège with some <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oliebol" target="_blank">croustillons</a>, which were freshly-fried, sort of donut-hole-type things that were absolutely drowning in powdered sugar. We had been joking that we gave Emily a tour of the unhealthiest food options everywhere we went, and Liège was no exception. Satisfied with our outing, we headed back home to Gent.<br />
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In the next installment: more French.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-90928583464777660812013-09-10T20:57:00.000+02:002013-09-10T20:57:28.661+02:00Cologne, with Another Everest ReferenceGosh, are we still in Cologne? I mean, I'm not physically still in Cologne, of course. I'm not even in Gent at the moment. I'm writing this blog post in a hotel in Padova, Italy. Which means that I am getting more behind by the moment. But let's not think about that for the time being. Instead, let's hop into the Wayback Machine and set the dial for Cologne.<br />
<br />
In my last post, we had just blown our minds at the Golden Chamber in the Basilica of St. Ursula, as you may recall. We headed out to the Belgian Quarter, which was supposed to be sort of hipster central in terms of shopping. I didn't see that much evidence of hipsters, but there were a few cool shops - music, clothes, kitschy goods. Some interesting street art, if that's your bag (daddy-o).<br />
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We visited a biergarten so Emily could experience the flavor of Germany (beer and pretzels). It wasn't the nicest of days and we were all getting chilly, so although we had a nice return bike ride along the Rhine, we didn't stop to take pictures. But we did head back in that direction to eat dinner, and now that we were properly attired, we took advantage of the photo ops.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEGDrbi46S0_-DloIhtsF5gWDbCelkn6HBTuyKdvbuofnT8flB_rtoaYcrCn9jivbYUKTQRU8iMLE6Y-F9HcVvc29YQqCijGZLihoxDp9mlxbuEo616je_ySatTb1Pdeudd3Qx2-iwAcg/s1600/cologne-evening1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEGDrbi46S0_-DloIhtsF5gWDbCelkn6HBTuyKdvbuofnT8flB_rtoaYcrCn9jivbYUKTQRU8iMLE6Y-F9HcVvc29YQqCijGZLihoxDp9mlxbuEo616je_ySatTb1Pdeudd3Qx2-iwAcg/s400/cologne-evening1-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We had dinner at a Thai place here. The river is just out of frame, <br />opposite the buildings.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After we were fed, we did a little night wandering. I haven't yet mentioned the elephant in the room, or really, the elephant in the middle of Cologne. Officially, it's the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cologne_Cathedral" target="_blank">Cologne Cathedral</a>, but it's generally just known as the Kölner Dom. Lonely Planet called it "the Mt. Everest of cathedrals."<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNC2t669ri0fHL1Lfp3kqB7ijoCPtSnzTnjgwbCuW64SXk_n9BAIycN-1w258IGvjkuP2EcBBTPEuWhfHOHHZ2jrqRDfOKKti44i1HnRovmddyhtDdut41SDhLqhyphenhyphencq-1zKam36KLYol0/s1600/cologne-dom-night2-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNC2t669ri0fHL1Lfp3kqB7ijoCPtSnzTnjgwbCuW64SXk_n9BAIycN-1w258IGvjkuP2EcBBTPEuWhfHOHHZ2jrqRDfOKKti44i1HnRovmddyhtDdut41SDhLqhyphenhyphencq-1zKam36KLYol0/s400/cologne-dom-night2-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
I hope that photo gives some sense of scale. First of all, let me point out that I was across a square from it and still couldn't get the whole thing in the picture. Secondly, those are normal-sized people down there in front of it.<br />
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We planned to go into it the next day, but like moths to a flame or one magnet to another magnet or something, we were drawn to look at the outside at night. I wouldn't be surprised if there was actually a scientific explanation - this thing must have its own gravitational pull (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:K%C3%B6lner_Dom001_%28Flight_over_Cologne%29.jpg" target="_blank">this aerial image</a> on Wikipedia shows you how it looms over everything). We ended the evening really excited to see the inside.<br />
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The next morning after I loaded up on liverwurst at breakfast ("mmm, cat food!"), we dove into the Dom. There was so much to see that we pretty quickly lost each other and just wandered. I took just short of a million pictures while we were there.<br />
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I'm going to try to give you an idea of what it's like inside without making your eyes bleed from too many pictures. It's actually made slightly easier by the fact that I know nothing about churches or Catholicism so I often have no idea what I'm taking pictures of, and therefore can't offer any lengthy explanations. Lucky you.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8DlyOk5kAES3xPG5tV81cKfFPCQIMCOIweVcQjf_gVc-e9ppfWUKnIZeLaxwGHxZMd_UoJWnKmWnNktidFR-As6-phppfsUlh_UTDrTDSIuglkmSj8IyIQ_typZ3ztzYVs5_XqdSyOJQ/s1600/cologne-dom-overview-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8DlyOk5kAES3xPG5tV81cKfFPCQIMCOIweVcQjf_gVc-e9ppfWUKnIZeLaxwGHxZMd_UoJWnKmWnNktidFR-As6-phppfsUlh_UTDrTDSIuglkmSj8IyIQ_typZ3ztzYVs5_XqdSyOJQ/s400/cologne-dom-overview-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ceiling isn't much to look at, I admit, but it<br />goes on <i>forever.</i></td></tr>
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First off, here is a not-great picture that shows what the interior is like. It's like ... the Great Hall at Hogwarts, except bigger and with higher ceilings. Much higher ceilings. I tried a variety of ways to capture the enormity of the inside, but I don't think I managed with any of them. This one comes the closest.<br />
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And now for a few of the details. There's something for everyone!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_bYO9LnQvfqD7uHo1r8ouDW7pVo6jyowgvUSRmXEmFHVQa89UnaWXSn9cbImqGeSn2zlDM1eHy7hXgVN8Nt6ry0HycVCbyvhgy-vZ0jB_bY-K1eX-Myn-2GTolXYOaR7JshIaMe2fB-U/s1600/cologne-dom-tomb1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_bYO9LnQvfqD7uHo1r8ouDW7pVo6jyowgvUSRmXEmFHVQa89UnaWXSn9cbImqGeSn2zlDM1eHy7hXgVN8Nt6ry0HycVCbyvhgy-vZ0jB_bY-K1eX-Myn-2GTolXYOaR7JshIaMe2fB-U/s400/cologne-dom-tomb1-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You like tombs? We've got tombs.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFS3Ms0UBJYfReDnv3pejFU6uFFokvqVUbS3tkCFMaGE2QT2njo3ZntzBsflhdWIkcGWLNl53qfDeDAJi62s3NtETTclpCAt_TImveM45hZM4uNG6Yv0kNX_5Gb3snjq3ozMLYGvpVR8k/s1600/cologne-dom-shrine1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFS3Ms0UBJYfReDnv3pejFU6uFFokvqVUbS3tkCFMaGE2QT2njo3ZntzBsflhdWIkcGWLNl53qfDeDAJi62s3NtETTclpCAt_TImveM45hZM4uNG6Yv0kNX_5Gb3snjq3ozMLYGvpVR8k/s400/cologne-dom-shrine1-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shrines? So. Many. Shrines.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1YgF4YO01j8_PuczVxtDjsksqdiL1hYrRO5TBRwAfsf15FmIUJb9JD4r-sD9RfpUzakaP_rHVJr3N5B6MiIMDyOGvNTpeGyodwbG2HCjRVcmF1jOS6eZgsxUxFaWjNnbYwSUG33sLFI4/s1600/cologne-dom-stainedglass1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="263" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1YgF4YO01j8_PuczVxtDjsksqdiL1hYrRO5TBRwAfsf15FmIUJb9JD4r-sD9RfpUzakaP_rHVJr3N5B6MiIMDyOGvNTpeGyodwbG2HCjRVcmF1jOS6eZgsxUxFaWjNnbYwSUG33sLFI4/s400/cologne-dom-stainedglass1-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stained glass? But of course.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Well, that about wraps it up. We had to leave and come back to see the whole thing, so there was a lunch involved, and some time spent at a cafe having coffee. But generally, we saw the Dom and then in the evening, it was time to catch our train back to Gent.<br />
<br />
Here's one final image from our time in Cologne:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxfqRVEBi3igqBjnOtLYgdDpbym-wLVvlRC_W7vLDpDJBdtS9EY9XAQVEFYzTLEZU5B7c7DdWPjArfLtn4Q4PNb4-MbbaQXqdm3ojX-5tpnjbET4_9WPC0MZtbjd4FML8w1bXKd_cX8Y/s1600/cologne-icecream-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrxfqRVEBi3igqBjnOtLYgdDpbym-wLVvlRC_W7vLDpDJBdtS9EY9XAQVEFYzTLEZU5B7c7DdWPjArfLtn4Q4PNb4-MbbaQXqdm3ojX-5tpnjbET4_9WPC0MZtbjd4FML8w1bXKd_cX8Y/s400/cologne-icecream-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
You can never go wrong with ice cream.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-1133601082370544492013-09-04T18:18:00.001+02:002013-09-04T18:18:36.669+02:00Next Stop: Cologne<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiHXO6Z308frMavrc7cgYfZp9Gs3R5FFomZdjM4G4ZVvX4Qh82sq9Egw0pIryDXSOAU6hSZI8I-9MwHFhL8x7CPH4NuxZRxBYeNS-YqM0MO5xRbL1yZH56DHBaNM-D3g-zVbfXOALvaU/s1600/cologne-kolnischwasser-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="237" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiHXO6Z308frMavrc7cgYfZp9Gs3R5FFomZdjM4G4ZVvX4Qh82sq9Egw0pIryDXSOAU6hSZI8I-9MwHFhL8x7CPH4NuxZRxBYeNS-YqM0MO5xRbL1yZH56DHBaNM-D3g-zVbfXOALvaU/s320/cologne-kolnischwasser-sm.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Did you know that Cologne actually had something to do<br />
with, well, <i>cologne</i>? I admit I didn't.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We arrived in Köln at night. Cologne on a Sunday night was a considerably quieter place than Amsterdam on a Friday night, so there were no crazy crowds, no packed trams. I snapped a quick picture inside the train station, and then we just grabbed our stuff and headed in the direction of the hotel. The sign, by the way, is a big advertisement for the original eau de Cologne (which sounds way better than the German version, seen here: Echt Kölnisch Wasser), brand name (brand number?) <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/4711" target="_blank">4711</a>.<br />
<br />
In the morning, we had a great breakfast at our hotel. German breakfasts usually consist of lunchmeat, cheeses, and bread, and we had those things, but also cereal, boiled eggs (this trip introduced Emily to egg cups), fruit, yogurt, antipasti ... I'm probably leaving out some things. But the point is, it was delicious, and we kind of wished it was breakfast all day.<br />
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We had decided to follow the same plan as in Amsterdam - rent bikes for one day, walk for the second one - so we headed down to pick them up. Riding bikes in Cologne was a little different than in Amsterdam or Gent. (This is an understatement.) It took us a while to figure out whether we were even supposed to be on some busy streets because bike lanes may or may not exist. It seemed to be that generally, bikes behaved as if they were cars ... except when they decided to just ride on the sidewalk. This is a huge no-no in Belgium! Of course, in Belgium, cars also yield right-of-way to bikes. In Amsterdam, you have dedicated places to ride and often, dedicated traffic signals. In Cologne, you're just another piece of the moving traffic puzzle. So we were nervous at first but got into the groove pretty quickly.<br />
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I had seen some photos of animal graffiti/art that seemed to be near the zoo. As it turned out, it was on the outer wall of the zoo itself, so we walked along it and took some pictures.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKSVDe5R7FKec7jFqmeyHBsVUqAO3XhBjM_fE7rC6Y1JQH0sXPNOFuuGzrNg6vHH6jQgA-ymNRbbB4IzAFQ0pE2OkGbr_wJDR6341tJFResxt5o43PaJAKWIHjSTo7x4-YwDHnnVqY8c/s1600/cologne-zoowall1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihKSVDe5R7FKec7jFqmeyHBsVUqAO3XhBjM_fE7rC6Y1JQH0sXPNOFuuGzrNg6vHH6jQgA-ymNRbbB4IzAFQ0pE2OkGbr_wJDR6341tJFResxt5o43PaJAKWIHjSTo7x4-YwDHnnVqY8c/s400/cologne-zoowall1-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj1DqybCBLv2wVARIHxXGQvFwP5Lxyzdx2gCMvDt1GPmHmDihTvUKus6Dy76ZgHXMDz-68ZaDvRBMiFuL_K2ImHS1vrKfARO3GvqDMqAdNS9bDCY8_yvJ607iFml0dyaEU8eCrhOZbKqU/s1600/cologne-zoowall2-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj1DqybCBLv2wVARIHxXGQvFwP5Lxyzdx2gCMvDt1GPmHmDihTvUKus6Dy76ZgHXMDz-68ZaDvRBMiFuL_K2ImHS1vrKfARO3GvqDMqAdNS9bDCY8_yvJ607iFml0dyaEU8eCrhOZbKqU/s400/cologne-zoowall2-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There's a joke to be made here about Emily finding a stand-in for her<br />
brother ... but I'm not the one to make it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Mindful that we needed to eat before 2 pm if we planned to eat lunch at all, we found a sandwich shop. This was another one of those times when it became clear we weren't in Belgium or the Netherlands anymore. In Belgium, "Spreekt u Engels?" often gets an "oh, yes." The same question in Amsterdam hardly needs to be asked; people speak English as a matter of course. At the counter of the sandwich shop in Cologne, "Sprechen Sie Englisch?" got a panicked look, and a gesture to someone else. Who spoke a little English. Very little. We muddled through it, though, and it was kind of funny that after every selection we made, she would say, "So?" (Meaning "yes, and?", of course, but it's funny how rude something like that can sound if you choose the wrong synonym.)<br />
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After that, we headed to the main thing I'd wanted to see in Cologne: the Basilica of St. Ursula. I had read the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Ursula#Life" target="_blank">story of St. Ursula</a> before, and knew that it was based around a church in Cologne. I'd always wanted to see it, but thought I probably never would. Well, I thought wrong!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzjk9E7oGwH72dAw4RhTw5d88sOykmwf64jTo9tm6uUX5PhSzcoOapxPha-QXyfNycVyNden6phcgLB_t2ntYDs4n2xb9y8zrlccO2EGTCiNBX2GIzspMuYqGyOOV6htbCM6mKA4JHjg/s1600/cologne-stursula2-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMzjk9E7oGwH72dAw4RhTw5d88sOykmwf64jTo9tm6uUX5PhSzcoOapxPha-QXyfNycVyNden6phcgLB_t2ntYDs4n2xb9y8zrlccO2EGTCiNBX2GIzspMuYqGyOOV6htbCM6mKA4JHjg/s400/cologne-stursula2-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Seen one church, seen 'em all. No, seriously, this<br />
one had some really interesting stained glass.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSYuJf75hFZeGLvhXDXSV4s5kRNc0BngpbhN9pvqNVxeekBJx7T6YRbejFEtaEAvrLHDNh993SfReDuB4vM3jm3TtjBWojAUJ3UrnQ1c9GksbG9XPXFQD9hRn1Ka3_XgM7HsFJObcb57s/s1600/cologne-stursula3-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSYuJf75hFZeGLvhXDXSV4s5kRNc0BngpbhN9pvqNVxeekBJx7T6YRbejFEtaEAvrLHDNh993SfReDuB4vM3jm3TtjBWojAUJ3UrnQ1c9GksbG9XPXFQD9hRn1Ka3_XgM7HsFJObcb57s/s400/cologne-stursula3-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There were several of these praying figures on the upper level.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
This was all well and good, but really what we'd come to see was the Golden Chamber. We saw a locked door and a sign in German of which I could read "Golden Chamber," "closed," and something that roughly translated to "thank you for your understanding." But before giving up, I found a woman who was working there and asked her if she spoke English. She replied with a whole bunch of German which included the words "Goldene Kammer" and a questioning tone at the end. I said "Ja," and she went and unlocked the door, asked for our money, and let us into a small room.<br />
<br />
Wow.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByT3ymh3_9iLBVLKH8OPO2AWjHW3LuQxmLGfrIW7zXisDnCPqYhxJR1oOWUKBZ-Wu3ePuv_wr6en04MMDt9gfFKmOBEtErF4SVRjE6P6YGZ2ZK8oDC_8FxlybZqxK9-d_SmbUj2mrlFY/s1600/cologne-goldenchamber3-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiByT3ymh3_9iLBVLKH8OPO2AWjHW3LuQxmLGfrIW7zXisDnCPqYhxJR1oOWUKBZ-Wu3ePuv_wr6en04MMDt9gfFKmOBEtErF4SVRjE6P6YGZ2ZK8oDC_8FxlybZqxK9-d_SmbUj2mrlFY/s400/cologne-goldenchamber3-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Interesting wall decor ... wait, are those clavicles? And femurs?<br />
Kneecaps? Part of a skull?<br />
Yup.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHeFlKXDRlt-hFO2Io_YQ6OR6kGVnGaEU6RKiucuSIdQ2irq-PNuov_ikzW2lfJFiViLiJsJXSdIiHqlMPlx4_pEpZ5Dpg8ku7IHn94SuhUcl-_7ZIb9jHXF21QTzFIFRKKyGBfRTNAU/s1600/cologne-goldenchamber4-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoHeFlKXDRlt-hFO2Io_YQ6OR6kGVnGaEU6RKiucuSIdQ2irq-PNuov_ikzW2lfJFiViLiJsJXSdIiHqlMPlx4_pEpZ5Dpg8ku7IHn94SuhUcl-_7ZIb9jHXF21QTzFIFRKKyGBfRTNAU/s400/cologne-goldenchamber4-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, that's my name. In bones.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It's worth going to look at <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ursa_major/9668651795/sizes/o/" target="_blank">my panorama shot</a> of the room, even though it's blurry. Restorers were at work inside, and I guess that made me a little more shy than usual about taking photos, because I didn't take that many (for me). I may have also just been awed and more interested in standing around looking at it instead of looking at the view screen. Usually I do a better job of doing both. I think Morgan and Emily got some good ones in here as well. The legend says that these are the bones of Ursula and her 11,000 virgins, but since the story is probably apocryphal and the bones came from the cemetery on the site of which the basilica was built, these are most likely just the bones of <i>whoever</i>. Nevertheless, how often do you see something like this? Not very often, unless you have hobbies which are frowned upon by society.<br />
<br />
That seems like a good stopping point, so I'll be back soon with the next installment of our time in Cologne, which will feature fewer bones. Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-86950274921527045442013-08-31T19:28:00.000+02:002013-08-31T19:28:00.410+02:00Highbrow and Lowbrow in AmsterdamOn the morning of our second (and final) day in Amsterdam, we went back to Headfirst Coffee. The guy recognized us from the day before, and asked if we wanted the same as before. We did.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA_wl778rA5L_rOeh1o_jkbBnzVjJfSd9_4N23bXoYGhbrU_RZTymrIF0Ea1-tqgRMi_QUZHSxmQ5wDsNjuOoehEcirRRjTVpcAntMKL0mimrCPOnRxXqgMz2eJMf4o85U6_pZd8_HB9M/s1600/amsterdam-headfirstcoffee-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA_wl778rA5L_rOeh1o_jkbBnzVjJfSd9_4N23bXoYGhbrU_RZTymrIF0Ea1-tqgRMi_QUZHSxmQ5wDsNjuOoehEcirRRjTVpcAntMKL0mimrCPOnRxXqgMz2eJMf4o85U6_pZd8_HB9M/s400/amsterdam-headfirstcoffee-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Three flat whites.<br />
If you are in Amsterdam, you should have coffee here. No arguments.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Properly caffeinated, and having been told about an afternoon show where it was rumored Prince might appear (I don't know if he did in the end, but he did do <a href="http://www.ronaldsays.com/2013/08/prince-rocks-amsterdam-by-surprise.html" target="_blank">a short-notice show that evening</a>), we headed out to the <a href="https://www.rijksmuseum.nl/en/" target="_blank">Rijksmuseum</a>, which was our major plan for the day.<br />
<br />
On the Museumplein is a sculpture which is a tourism professional's dream - I amsterdam.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEAQxWy95HerTTY3SaLbP2WEmtph5OPtAAhTMZpAMuwBQDq6ZaG_xIjenriu9NIe7q4xJO9X9fKufW887wIDHch3uRpketIHXIaz27jdemYmrhPS7NcHPpv328-AWpH-5whMHUsP0rhmo/s1600/amsterdam-iamsterdam-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEAQxWy95HerTTY3SaLbP2WEmtph5OPtAAhTMZpAMuwBQDq6ZaG_xIjenriu9NIe7q4xJO9X9fKufW887wIDHch3uRpketIHXIaz27jdemYmrhPS7NcHPpv328-AWpH-5whMHUsP0rhmo/s400/amsterdam-iamsterdam-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They tried "You aremsterdam", but it didn't have the same ring to it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So you can climb on it, get your picture taken with 100 of your closest tourist friends, and then buy an uncluttered version as logo on t-shirts, bags, keychains, postcards, socks, hats, underwear, shot glasses ... you get the idea. We didn't pose with it.<br />
<br />
On to the museum, which is there lurking in the background of that photo. There was a line to get in, but the line was shorter than the one for the Anne Frank house, and I was pretty sure there was more room inside the Rijksmuseum, so we waited it out. I took a lot of pictures in the museum, but I'll spare you most of them. Nothing worse than "look, here's a thing! And a different one! And another one!" The point is, you will not want for awesome things to see if you visit.<br />
<br />
We spent a while exploring the rooms of religious art. For some reason, it's always fascinating to me. In amongst the Madonna-and-Childs were some carvings that intrigued me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZlGKgXeR8MFlnjXfFwAkRp61uhAXoxA_GBt4FRBsASVBu7RUMGpeoTF_hA-UhwPR1ujpIIosCXPFlB04Zl68a-FS0mKW0_bTwBWwE_YGzxq8HkDf2vgrTYdtUcLNy1y1nWZh2pWrBILs/s1600/rijksmuseum-woodenchrist1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZlGKgXeR8MFlnjXfFwAkRp61uhAXoxA_GBt4FRBsASVBu7RUMGpeoTF_hA-UhwPR1ujpIIosCXPFlB04Zl68a-FS0mKW0_bTwBWwE_YGzxq8HkDf2vgrTYdtUcLNy1y1nWZh2pWrBILs/s400/rijksmuseum-woodenchrist1-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This one is "Christ in the house of Mary and Martha"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi85wWVlxr-dA82_RjFA-q2ZStn1qUvaL4-B6aCIKJsG-UfrsvH0OTOVkYD2z-vMTElhZpOL5RGhuAE_BgUiR7joPYLAA6fYxF0Rk6aFJPxB-lF6V8DnUDwVmvbJu6Xd3_lKx2EXssttWE/s1600/rijksmuseum-marysparents-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi85wWVlxr-dA82_RjFA-q2ZStn1qUvaL4-B6aCIKJsG-UfrsvH0OTOVkYD2z-vMTElhZpOL5RGhuAE_BgUiR7joPYLAA6fYxF0Rk6aFJPxB-lF6V8DnUDwVmvbJu6Xd3_lKx2EXssttWE/s400/rijksmuseum-marysparents-sm.JPG" width="336" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mary's parents celebrating their impending parenthood</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWmwvmn8pVpY4_qRc4rwct0M-vibfCpX_VctH1oiDyOLa2BDcDSlHluOAekCctNsUVgTJNCHN90W1p9OIqVGhvbDVaKHAqlT5UZEaKwMltuP2szQi0CNrh6Z1-lG6QD0ykKMkifbomvGQ/s1600/rijksmuseum-ourladyofsorrows-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWmwvmn8pVpY4_qRc4rwct0M-vibfCpX_VctH1oiDyOLa2BDcDSlHluOAekCctNsUVgTJNCHN90W1p9OIqVGhvbDVaKHAqlT5UZEaKwMltuP2szQi0CNrh6Z1-lG6QD0ykKMkifbomvGQ/s400/rijksmuseum-ourladyofsorrows-sm.JPG" width="302" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Lady of Sorrows</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So. There were some things. <br />
<br />
We had lunch in the museum cafe (quite good, and surprisingly reasonably priced) and dove back in for an assault on the must-sees of the museum: some Vermeers and Rembrandt's "Night Watch." Before getting there, though, I got side-tracked by a cluster of people.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJZCMfnAEHVK2lYXLgWaaTFFS9Y9DviNgg9WxHYP9J3qP76-wOh5VLSLUYrA03dIED2kv3GbcqfJcrPfr9DDoj4qX26_g3nA78q1DqdUJSDgeGiu7qtroG6_7Ufy3CHVZbCQWnYEEHPZU/s1600/rijksmuseum-vangogh-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJZCMfnAEHVK2lYXLgWaaTFFS9Y9DviNgg9WxHYP9J3qP76-wOh5VLSLUYrA03dIED2kv3GbcqfJcrPfr9DDoj4qX26_g3nA78q1DqdUJSDgeGiu7qtroG6_7Ufy3CHVZbCQWnYEEHPZU/s400/rijksmuseum-vangogh-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You might recognize that guy in the painting.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I didn't bother to try to get any closer to these. There's a whole Van Gogh museum across the park from here, and besides, he still has two ears in this one. On we went, and found the real crowds. You can see a panoramic photo of the Masterpieces Hall <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ursa_major/9638721890/sizes/o/" target="_blank">on my Flickr account</a> (the Vermeer room is on the left of that photo). The Vermeer paintings, I did get mostly close to. There aren't that many of them in the world, and I hadn't seen one in person before. (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_paintings_by_Johannes_Vermeer" target="_blank">This is a list of his paintings and where you can find them</a>; the Rijksmuseum has four.) <br />
<br />
Then, the Night Watch.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKIabhVMzQ5_i-6d9MHsZk94JXDgpMXO270e5QkxFk2wYcUGvfuaGLIpraZLh7Eibkzawi_GUZuF32FMRHWH9SopSf0Df3mR2kPVlQWnvN8Yx1wmICKCd_cPFAmLA7SrzWs81X3__4Oqs/s1600/nightwatch1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKIabhVMzQ5_i-6d9MHsZk94JXDgpMXO270e5QkxFk2wYcUGvfuaGLIpraZLh7Eibkzawi_GUZuF32FMRHWH9SopSf0Df3mR2kPVlQWnvN8Yx1wmICKCd_cPFAmLA7SrzWs81X3__4Oqs/s400/nightwatch1-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a big painting, with a big crowd in front of it.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And after that, we were pretty well done. Happy with what we'd been able to see, and ready to move on, we left the museum to spend the last couple of hours in the city outdoors.<br />
<br />
We wandered through the red light district (intentionally, this time). Why did we decide to check it out? In the immortal words of mountain climber George Mallory, "<a href="http://www.thisdayinquotes.com/2010/03/george-mallory-coins-because-its-there.html" target="_blank">Because it's there</a>." On a Sunday afternoon, it mostly consists of women in lingerie sitting in windows, texting. So aside from the lingerie, an Amsterdam prostitute's slow afternoon at work looks pretty much like everyone else's.<br />
<br />
We didn't stray too much farther afield because we had a train to catch in the evening, so we took some last photos here and there and headed back to the train station.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1DQdlc11kNKAYvoHaj9H47Wca4vPwleSBidCc0oojesW_MvwGYk-XN553haifs3C8bxdL3Hua7xVDnx9631nsd521jZSx5-ZFXfWX9C1xtK_oFm_sK_X9bqUxfU-4rsOeUB6Hz0TrC-k/s1600/amsterdam-emily-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1DQdlc11kNKAYvoHaj9H47Wca4vPwleSBidCc0oojesW_MvwGYk-XN553haifs3C8bxdL3Hua7xVDnx9631nsd521jZSx5-ZFXfWX9C1xtK_oFm_sK_X9bqUxfU-4rsOeUB6Hz0TrC-k/s400/amsterdam-emily-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hazards of going on a trip with a new camera - it doesn't always<br />
focus where you want it to, and you don't always notice that. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghHLhsVz6M7SCCqajBmsoS0RKyfC7vaNQ6qN9D5N5h5kCecjkQjuM_uY6Spxs218pPO3uZ5BvugK4LXaFSUMebas48t6WGEWpbEAYczfRnY1oPP8Me-P0Uap_2HkXlUxmdX2eaQOyz228/s1600/amsterdam-trainstation-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghHLhsVz6M7SCCqajBmsoS0RKyfC7vaNQ6qN9D5N5h5kCecjkQjuM_uY6Spxs218pPO3uZ5BvugK4LXaFSUMebas48t6WGEWpbEAYczfRnY1oPP8Me-P0Uap_2HkXlUxmdX2eaQOyz228/s400/amsterdam-trainstation-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The train station - beginning and ending point of our journey.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And that's it for Amsterdam! Next stop: Cologne (or Köln, depending who you ask), Germany.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-51110670940004398322013-08-28T14:53:00.002+02:002013-08-28T14:53:40.838+02:00Staying in AmsterdamWhen I left off, we'd departed the Westerkerk to go see more of the city. We started off by heading to the shopping streets of the city (<a href="http://www.de9straatjes.nl/uk/" target="_blank">De Negen Straatjes</a>), where we found a couple of good deals (Em bought some pants, I bought a purse). Well, actually, first we tried to find de Negen Straatjes. We got a little lost and ended up on the edges of the red light district on our first attempt. But then we got ourselves oriented and found the shopping area. We also saw one of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Street_organ#Dutch_street_organ" target="_blank">street organs</a> which are popular in the Netherlands.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="height: 342px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center; width: 412px;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigSjgGibzB1I11-asOnYSh9Gt07vn07WwYL5O_IUedwUPb51v8YcoP0_rdYwK0Yo_B5VFNjqmP3p8VoVZ864DCGNh69fzv_ztnu6HaogjWSgAomqctoSS9-tQewy3Yy6VAiEawpOlkjDI/s1600/amsterdam-streetorgan-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigSjgGibzB1I11-asOnYSh9Gt07vn07WwYL5O_IUedwUPb51v8YcoP0_rdYwK0Yo_B5VFNjqmP3p8VoVZ864DCGNh69fzv_ztnu6HaogjWSgAomqctoSS9-tQewy3Yy6VAiEawpOlkjDI/s400/amsterdam-streetorgan-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">In the middle, blocked by people's heads, is a scary clown face.<br />
You're welcome.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Then we got back on our bikes and went in search of some lunch. We crossed some canals (boy are there a lot of canals to cross!), and after getting lost again (you may be sensing a theme here), we found our way to a little sandwich shop. We sat in the little upstairs loft and I drew while we ate.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7u8ROL_lYerul4Xoln_Lhl3KEcgYOednC3PoYYG5-MlV5Vyx74N-Mpxi1MN3TJi1MmXJddJuTA8ginVrr_NP_5zX9nESkYN2Gz0aotpjsAbZlQzaoLoXQanveQLBOiDSN46HsJ3DEGUI/s1600/amsterdam.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7u8ROL_lYerul4Xoln_Lhl3KEcgYOednC3PoYYG5-MlV5Vyx74N-Mpxi1MN3TJi1MmXJddJuTA8ginVrr_NP_5zX9nESkYN2Gz0aotpjsAbZlQzaoLoXQanveQLBOiDSN46HsJ3DEGUI/s400/amsterdam.JPG" width="277" /></a></div>
<br />
The rest of the day is sort of a jumble of getting lost and seeing things, so I don't entirely know what we were doing when some of the photos were taken, but here are a couple anyway.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgblPP-trVg0Z-9w7OSj5ux0CV-93kE-AX_c0HGR1GpQcM15l_IM2VtsfyiA0iohfv8irTQAp_ZWzO1_z3izQUt7SNH0FVORwc5E63a8ykafEViCKY031Ft8lbHEz16am3ZQhiTVvyuTQE/s1600/amsterdam-heibrug-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgblPP-trVg0Z-9w7OSj5ux0CV-93kE-AX_c0HGR1GpQcM15l_IM2VtsfyiA0iohfv8irTQAp_ZWzO1_z3izQUt7SNH0FVORwc5E63a8ykafEViCKY031Ft8lbHEz16am3ZQhiTVvyuTQE/s400/amsterdam-heibrug-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I loved that some bridges had these name markers, and <br />
I meant to try to be on the lookout for more, but it just <br />
didn't happen. Another visit, maybe.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDBFXnHBWwgawsse1fC66HeT4uiCYk0-g3hTEge_5ckJl0ywJ5UmMFQc9MCoulhu2EbODVmBuaxV3ZSgFF8GcsuxZuNX2SKFmS10YR_D3i3R-TRGcW6KID9yzK7VuSvo4UVx-QyXrY8A/s1600/amsterdam-tinycar-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDBFXnHBWwgawsse1fC66HeT4uiCYk0-g3hTEge_5ckJl0ywJ5UmMFQc9MCoulhu2EbODVmBuaxV3ZSgFF8GcsuxZuNX2SKFmS10YR_D3i3R-TRGcW6KID9yzK7VuSvo4UVx-QyXrY8A/s400/amsterdam-tinycar-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tiny car. And not much to keep one from driving straight<br />
into the canal.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Eventually, after riding way too far out of our way and subsequently correcting our course, we ended up at the <a href="http://www.amsterdam.info/markets/waterlooplein/" target="_blank">Waterlooplein flea market</a>. (Just to be clear, this is where we were trying to end up.) I didn't take any photos of the market itself, but it was bustling and we spent quite a while there going through the wares at the various booths.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdxTCO8TUd7pZlVdvhEUoa0RCwV3ruZ4y6opjbFLq3BdaHzLLzetAuYglZhkUdwhosjDOtDQ21YXNPBHfq4CtKWfW4q1s805wQv8zzlAifP1bGqMheWiVgyAjh-wUtE_9-pyGl8ayyGQ/s1600/amsterdam-jesus-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdxTCO8TUd7pZlVdvhEUoa0RCwV3ruZ4y6opjbFLq3BdaHzLLzetAuYglZhkUdwhosjDOtDQ21YXNPBHfq4CtKWfW4q1s805wQv8zzlAifP1bGqMheWiVgyAjh-wUtE_9-pyGl8ayyGQ/s400/amsterdam-jesus-sm.JPG" width="296" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blessing the market.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Days later on a train, we talked to a Dutch guy who said that riding bikes in Amsterdam takes nerve. We had to agree. There's just a lot of bike traffic, and although the bike lanes and such are pretty well marked, it's a little intimidating when you don't know exactly how all the rules work to keep the flow of traffic going. Who has the right of way at bike lane intersections? Where do you stop at a light to keep from blocking the intersecting bike lane? Merging? Is there such a thing as "yield," and who's supposed to do it if so?<br />
<br />
Even though it was a little hard at first, bikes are a great way to see Amsterdam, especially because the only "hills" we saw were the slight inclines of the bridges over canals. We did one day with bikes and one day without, so on the morning of the next day we returned them and continued our adventures on foot.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-32436000874139895712013-08-25T21:29:00.001+02:002013-08-25T21:29:59.964+02:00What Happens in AmsterdamStays in Amsterdam?<br />
<br />
Unless you blog about it, I suppose. I'm not sure what made me think of that slogan in the first place; I guess Amsterdam just strikes me as a Vegas-like city. With somewhat less neon. And a lot more water.<br />
<br />
Morgan, Emily and I headed out to Amsterdam on the evening of August 9. We'd decided to take our trains in the evening so that we could wake up in our destination city and not waste half the day getting to the place. We connected through Antwerp, which has a pretty cool train station. It's like a good airport - clean, open, and with decent snack options.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdrEiIbs4DPMr8o_at6cxpLfvdQmVE3L2U7-QeHSsgb1zDHBjI8E_WeKBjlFT0EepLWgDf0Gnv3OFkuwlN4rBg_csxHXiM2aQq8IA-rNyQcS1Uo5D4GN0e13A6P_EvWn8ie3XgsHTSi5g/s1600/antwerpencentraal-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdrEiIbs4DPMr8o_at6cxpLfvdQmVE3L2U7-QeHSsgb1zDHBjI8E_WeKBjlFT0EepLWgDf0Gnv3OFkuwlN4rBg_csxHXiM2aQq8IA-rNyQcS1Uo5D4GN0e13A6P_EvWn8ie3XgsHTSi5g/s400/antwerpencentraal-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It also has trains (not pictured).</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After a few hours of watching the Dutch countryside roll by (green fields, cows, flat, a couple of windmills), we arrived in Amsterdam. We decided to catch a tram to the area where our hotel was. It seemed that the trams would pull up a little back from the stop to let everyone get out, then pull forward when they were empty (the train station was the end of the line) and load up again. This was apparently a really hard concept for people to grasp. They started shoving to get back to where the tram had stopped (passengers still unloading at this point), and then when they were unable to get on and the tram started moving forward, people stepped out in front of it to get a better position at the stop. Jobs to expect in hell: Amsterdam tram driver.<br />
<br />
The hotel was fine, although three beds pretty much took care of the floor space. I mean, two beds pretty much took care of the floor space; adding in another one meant that we could easily play "the floor is made of lava." Emily and Morgan got caught in a downpour coming back from dinner that night (I had stayed in, being more tired than hungry). In the morning, we got coffee at <a href="https://www.facebook.com/headfirstcoffeeroasters" target="_blank">Headfirst Coffee</a> and then went off to rent bikes. The proprietors of the bike rental shop were less than friendly (if you hate tourists, why do you work in tourism?), and the bikes were not the best-maintained I'd ever seen, but we were determined to get ourselves thoroughly lost as fast as possible so we pedaled on. (About getting lost - we were obviously not <i>trying</i> to get lost, but one thing about riding bikes is that it certainly enables you to go well past where you should have gone before you notice anything amiss. You can fly right off the edges of your tourist map awfully easily.)<br />
<br />
We headed into the city center to find the Anne Frank House. It's right around the corner from a big church, the Westerkerk. Around the edge of the square was a long line of people, which we speculated was maybe to go up in the church tower or something.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmIcWLbpJ4z6RCp3hGKqBW2dEYA0Kps5W-PInU5_NolcnJ3wPcwgrVTZDtIcKPFAxtED6SNwpwat1O0eARmoUPGo-CWpPazh5_WojCFNLSeJZ12bAjleR2Dsel-gTE9g3GoNqDaD901w/s1600/amsterdam-annefrankhouse-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPmIcWLbpJ4z6RCp3hGKqBW2dEYA0Kps5W-PInU5_NolcnJ3wPcwgrVTZDtIcKPFAxtED6SNwpwat1O0eARmoUPGo-CWpPazh5_WojCFNLSeJZ12bAjleR2Dsel-gTE9g3GoNqDaD901w/s400/amsterdam-annefrankhouse-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
As it turns out, this was the line for the Anne Frank house. Across, then down the block, then across to the middle of the next block where the house actually is. We took a quick vote, the results of which were: Ixnay on the Anne Frank house-ay.<br />
<br />
Instead, we went into the Westerkerk.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK6JUC306KB_XhE1uGdIhFaOulqksgkaEsnJhUVezTj9vQei3k2y0Ye8D0wH4MjFX9TY2gb4B8XMX7SthpSY1KrIZWY8eRf6xx1Or3Lzs7dk31wmrBkM_BTUjNNiFDCsGFOZ5eC87FuW4/s1600/amsterdam-westerkerk3-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK6JUC306KB_XhE1uGdIhFaOulqksgkaEsnJhUVezTj9vQei3k2y0Ye8D0wH4MjFX9TY2gb4B8XMX7SthpSY1KrIZWY8eRf6xx1Or3Lzs7dk31wmrBkM_BTUjNNiFDCsGFOZ5eC87FuW4/s400/amsterdam-westerkerk3-sm.JPG" width="292" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That is a crown on top.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Not the most exciting church I've ever seen, but Protestants built it, so what can you do? Rembrandt is buried there ... somewhere. No, seriously, they say "probably along the north wall." Another claim to fame? Anne Frank wrote about hearing the bells of the church. Snobs of the tangible that we are, we took some photos and went on our way. Stay tuned.<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy_GC4mIC6tRNfVj1ZrNHrfhXPGYerP3vFFfUa955wSAPKWK1M3F4Dm4x16iM2-sIr4g3PyNZDyWfJew79hGrOdxguE4CY2JmDt7ZDDWjpEGyK5Wc7mxeYdgwajVe9Vw24swdTx3Akv6o/s1600/amsterdam-westerkerk1-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy_GC4mIC6tRNfVj1ZrNHrfhXPGYerP3vFFfUa955wSAPKWK1M3F4Dm4x16iM2-sIr4g3PyNZDyWfJew79hGrOdxguE4CY2JmDt7ZDDWjpEGyK5Wc7mxeYdgwajVe9Vw24swdTx3Akv6o/s400/amsterdam-westerkerk1-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It took them 50 years to decide to add an organ. Protestants.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-70129036641592292802013-08-21T15:46:00.001+02:002013-08-21T15:46:45.280+02:00In BrugesHere are my travel tips for going to Bruges. Are you ready?<br />
<br />
1. Don't go to Bruges.<br />
<br />
2. Watch the movie <i>In Bruges</i> instead, provided you have the necessary ability to withstand a pretty decent amount of blood, jokes about dwarves, and swearing.<br />
<br />
While Emily was here, we decided it would be fun to go to Bruges in the evening and have dinner, walk around the city, take night photos, whatever. It is (as every source will tell you) the best-preserved medieval city in Europe.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
When we got there, we noticed the train station is nothing special. In fact, it is perhaps the ugliest and most boring train station I've seen in any city so far. It's a station which opens out into a central flat area with no distinguishing features surrounded by chain store hell.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHLR-W3GE0UAh_u9Hapy4elxbt35NZ-m0SLTtCtA33zCzOBqbUc4De5BN1i76qvp0q4JbvlxhvmJwgyVFipFt5NLzKzjEFHoLBRm7yRwTFgq6jgO9mxB-mBgNbBFsGXIgDzbmF3ZC1M9Q/s1600/brugge-station-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHLR-W3GE0UAh_u9Hapy4elxbt35NZ-m0SLTtCtA33zCzOBqbUc4De5BN1i76qvp0q4JbvlxhvmJwgyVFipFt5NLzKzjEFHoLBRm7yRwTFgq6jgO9mxB-mBgNbBFsGXIgDzbmF3ZC1M9Q/s400/brugge-station-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The chain stores are behind me.</td></tr>
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We got on the bus and were taken into the main part of town, and there we did indeed see a square surrounded by various old buildings.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnuPo8KeklXunMCtXS95XWYoVCMrDRAzF8RSlEk16_fSMF8cSnTSf1A1F8A-aw6NcmlfD40fVCtO7sxkdus-nEGTpubgHTQByd0CxCSGJ98GevcrZewBavUsEpvF9ol0Ei1em2lvL-RuA/s1600/brugge-tower-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnuPo8KeklXunMCtXS95XWYoVCMrDRAzF8RSlEk16_fSMF8cSnTSf1A1F8A-aw6NcmlfD40fVCtO7sxkdus-nEGTpubgHTQByd0CxCSGJ98GevcrZewBavUsEpvF9ol0Ei1em2lvL-RuA/s400/brugge-tower-sm.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The bell tower</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
However, the square was also absolutely thronged with tourists. Also: overpriced restaurants, people stumbling around not looking where they were going because they were staring through their camera's viewfinders, being stepped on by people backing up to get a picture of their companions standing in front of ... something.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggf3XTb2pRkpb2P0CI0NYZ_YbOzYPeAky3zYj_GpM-h-1-lNJUufukCOyyaSfQdwrsogw9iy1joEK3EU2-67ZKY6W3SB5VM3x7oeGFQhM6IkLP5Qg-8kE0vF_O8GMm7YVp3Z_FykzBKVQ/s1600/brugge-square-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="295" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggf3XTb2pRkpb2P0CI0NYZ_YbOzYPeAky3zYj_GpM-h-1-lNJUufukCOyyaSfQdwrsogw9iy1joEK3EU2-67ZKY6W3SB5VM3x7oeGFQhM6IkLP5Qg-8kE0vF_O8GMm7YVp3Z_FykzBKVQ/s400/brugge-square-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't look now, but I think we're surrounded.</td></tr>
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<br />
That only gives you the smallest idea of it, but if you imagine that in every direction you turn, you start to get the idea. And okay, I get it - it's a tourist destination, and it's tourist season, and we were after all tourists ourselves. But there was a big difference in the feel of Bruges and the feel of Gent when it's full of tourists, and here's what it is: Bruges is dead.<br />
<br />
Even on the days when it seems like we've reached a critical mass of tourists in Gent, you see people biking through the squares on their way home or out with friends, or locals sitting and having drinks, or people shopping like on any other day. But the tourist center of Bruges is like an Epcot version of Belgium; there's not a single thing going on there that isn't directly related to tourists. The restaurants? Only tourists. The buildings? Mostly empty facades. Shops? Either souvenirs or high-end chain stores. If you're suddenly seized by the urge to buy a Rolex while on vacation, Bruges is your city.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGlaJ-TO91c-M5T0JHc2phAAKZqQV4hdfmDjM7ZL1-_puySozGClohaY8foyKKvNM27YBSiEA6yppanz0ySh3RdjdBTqAnFuJVDDXqyTXI__4CfPnWIsi3loPwMskIJQ1v1JCS5Y3qB4w/s1600/brugge-lion-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGlaJ-TO91c-M5T0JHc2phAAKZqQV4hdfmDjM7ZL1-_puySozGClohaY8foyKKvNM27YBSiEA6yppanz0ySh3RdjdBTqAnFuJVDDXqyTXI__4CfPnWIsi3loPwMskIJQ1v1JCS5Y3qB4w/s400/brugge-lion-sm.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"My God, it's full of stars! I mean, tourists."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
So we beat a quick retreat to try to find some other more interesting and real parts of the city. We found the expected old buildings and canals (populated by tour boats going at warp speed), but still there was that feeling of deadness. No one riding bikes from here to there in the course of their daily lives, only the rare car that went by on the street, disturbing the horse carriages. Not even that many people walking around, and none of the few we saw seemed to be natives.<br />
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Bruges is, indeed, as they say in the movie, a fairytale town. There are some old buildings, and some pretty scenes to take photos of if you can manage to get a clear shot (forget it in the main area). But it's also completely lifeless. It's like a constructed simulacrum, a thing that used to be authentic but has now become a shell and sad parody of its former self.<br />
<br />
Rent the movie, and come to Gent instead.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-13910544387414464212013-07-26T15:26:00.001+02:002013-07-26T15:26:03.708+02:00Life as We Now Know ItI promised to continue with the story, but we were so busy living it that it's taken a little longer than I expected. Let's call this a "one-month update."<br />
<br />
We moved from the bed and breakfast into our apartment in student family housing, getting laughed at by passersby while we waited for our taxi with our million bags. I really, really wanted to know how to say, "We're not tourists, we're moving here" in Dutch, but instead I just had to grit my teeth and bear it.<br />
<br />
The apartment is unsurprisingly small, with an unsurprisingly small shower. (It would have been surprising to me before our trip to Germany, but I knew what to expect this time.) I really feel for Morgan - having long limbs is not really what you want in these showers!<br />
<br />
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<br />
<b>The good: </b><br />
Paring down your belongings so that they fit into suitcases means that you actually feel like you have a ton of storage space where before you would have had trouble cramming yourself into twice as much apartment.<br />
<br />
Walking. We haven't really been able to eat the way we normally would at home, so knowing that we're getting plenty of exercise has made me feel a whole lot less bad about that. <br />
<br />
<b>The bad:</b><br />
The first two floors of the building are the daycare center. We are on the 4th (American) floor, so we are separated from babies that scream all day by just one floor, which provides no sound insulation at all.<br />
<br />
Walking. Trams and buses are great, but it hardly seems worth it for a couple of stops. Still, by the end of a round trip somewhere, my feet have often taken a beating.<br />
<br />
<b>The confusing:</b><br />
Shopping is an endless source of confusion - while supermarkets exist here, they're not necessarily the least expensive or best places to buy most things. So there is the fruit and vegetable market, the butcher's, and the bakery in addition to the grocery store. As with many other places in the world, a drug store (apotheek) here is actually a drug store, not an everything store. <br />
<br />
Walking. It takes a while to figure out the rhythm of crossing streets, going around people on sidewalks without doing a dance, etc. I found myself at cross-purposes with people a lot when we first got here. <br />
<br />
<b>The scenic:</b><br />
Everything, really.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5MCGXTQas8nd6LOmSmSXCWeEBMiKX7Yd2V-24igJJyyQQJlplLMlHd9dJW_55WZhkZGTuZ9CZLu51WB_r0Pvg9alsV1yKeKUn2g9lLhTULc1mRqmvIBRac2xCPIHYTilv9KaQEpTh3CM/s1600/boatreflection-sm.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5MCGXTQas8nd6LOmSmSXCWeEBMiKX7Yd2V-24igJJyyQQJlplLMlHd9dJW_55WZhkZGTuZ9CZLu51WB_r0Pvg9alsV1yKeKUn2g9lLhTULc1mRqmvIBRac2xCPIHYTilv9KaQEpTh3CM/s400/boatreflection-sm.JPG" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Beautiful, beautiful mosquito breeding grounds.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0Gent, Belgium51.053468 3.730379999999968350.734267 3.0849329999999684 51.372669 4.3758269999999682tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-46416707074344633502013-06-30T17:53:00.001+02:002013-06-30T17:53:29.544+02:00How to Make an International Move (Not a Blueprint)Morgan and I found out in late April that we would have the opportunity to move to Belgium for 6 months. By late May, we were moved out of our apartment in Denver, off to stay with his mother for a month. By late June we were on a series of planes to our new country.<br />
<br />
That sounds pretty orderly, but the road here was certainly not straight.<br />
<br />
Here's our how-to on moving:<br />
<br />
<b>Two months out:</b><br />
<br />
Start working on the documents needed for your visa right away. Feel proud of yourself for having most of your original documents already at hand. Get fingerprinted ASAP for an FBI background check and send it in with no delay.<br />
<br />
Downsize your belongings; make many trips to Goodwill. Sell some stuff on Craigslist.<br />
<br />
Investigate the requirements to take your dog with you. Rejoice that there are no quarantine restrictions for Belgium.<br />
<br />
Give notice on your apartment. <br />
<br />
<b>One month out:</b><br />
<br />
Realize that even with putting some things in storage, you have far too much stuff to take overseas. Have the garage sale to end all garage sales.<br />
<br />
Sell things you thought you might keep. Then sell things you were sure you would keep.<br />
<br />
Pack everything that remains and put into either "storage" or "going" pile. Realize it's <i>still</i> a lot of stuff. Seriously, where did all of this come from?!<br />
<br />
During this whole time, keep communicating with the folks in Belgium about the job, plane tickets and housing situation without really getting all the details needed due to timing, translation issues, or not knowing the right questions to ask. <br />
<br />
Fill your storage unit, load up your trailer with everything else and head out to your temporary home for a month.<br />
<br />
Work on Dutch lessons. <br />
<br />
<b>Two weeks out:</b><br />
<br />
Realize that taking the dog doesn't work for a variety of reasons. Completely freak out about finding a 6-month home for her.<br />
<br />
Finally get the plane tickets settled.<br />
<br />
Learn that you have to have health insurance for a dependent (like your wife) to submit with your visa application.<br />
<br />
Learn that you have to have a completed rental agreement signed to submit with your visa application.<br />
<br />
<b>Ten days out:</b><br />
<br />
Celebrate the arrival of two envelopes from the FBI. Have the joy turn to horror when you realize that you're receiving one completed background check and one rejection letter because your fingerprints "are not of a sufficient quality."<br />
<br />
Search the internet to find someone to fingerprint you again RIGHT. NOW.<br />
<br />
Go to his office and find out he's thoroughly incompetent. Have a near-breakdown.<br />
<br />
Go to the police station and have them fingerprint you. Twice. Overnight these to the FBI.<br />
<br />
Call the FBI and see if there's anything they can do for you, since they don't expedite paperwork for private citizens; you have to go through an approved channeler for that.<br />
<br />
The next day, get fingerprinted yet again. Twice. Send these through a channeler.<br />
<br />
Try to maintain enough calm to get through more Dutch lessons.<br />
<br />
<b> </b><br />
<b>One week out:</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Finally find a home (a good home) for your dog. This would feel like the weight of the world lifted, but your fingerprints are still out there somewhere holding up your visa.<br />
<br />
Call the Belgian consulate and ask if you can come in person to get the visas if there's not enough time for mailing. Yes, you can. <br />
<br />
Read up on baggage allowances for your flights. Realize that yet again, you have way too much stuff. Make more cuts. <br />
<br />
Research luggage. Find out how it's possible to work with a 13-lb carryon limit.<br />
<br />
Start trying to fit your possessions into your allowed luggage, mindful both of weight and volume restrictions.<br />
<br />
Redefine your definition of "necessary."<br />
<br />
A little less than a week out, get your background check back via overnight mail. Celebrate that the last thing is finally here. <br />
<br />
<b>Four days out:</b><br />
<br />
Sadly say goodbye to your dog.<b> </b> Know that she's going to be just fine, though.<br />
<br />
Keep repacking your suitcases and weighing them. Watch the "maybe" pile shrink and the "no" pile grow. <br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9t36bMh9iO4GuPmd28NQVGvaDyoQRoBku7wVuQADDOQIbwvZi2wujRFxzLP5WNqZUxJlySj4HBfApixkYnpGHytH6fxWZ7muJV4y5FEtDOLGEaYkle-oJm33T9aIqwHqKMz_gpYSjgs/s1200/luggage.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="233" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf9t36bMh9iO4GuPmd28NQVGvaDyoQRoBku7wVuQADDOQIbwvZi2wujRFxzLP5WNqZUxJlySj4HBfApixkYnpGHytH6fxWZ7muJV4y5FEtDOLGEaYkle-oJm33T9aIqwHqKMz_gpYSjgs/s320/luggage.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>Three days out:</b><br />
<br />
Get up in the middle of the night and drive from Northern California to the Belgian Consulate in LA.<b> </b><br />
<br />
Have a moment of panic when it turns out that the only remaining holdup isn't the FBI report you've brought with you, but the one you mailed in earlier in the week. They don't have it. Try not to faint.<br />
<br />
Find out you can send a scan, so you just need to nail down some internet access and send that to them. Have drama finding internet access and parking in the same place, but get it sent.<br />
<br />
Walk out with the visas in your hot little hands and a sense of triumph in your hearts. The euphoria sustains you through the long drive back home.<br />
<br />
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<br />
<b>Two days and one day out:</b><br />
<br />
Say your goodbyes to everyone.<br />
<br />
Donate lots more to the Goodwill. Pack up the rest to be stored. Weigh your suitcases a final time.<br />
<br />
Try to sleep.<b> </b><br />
<br />
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<br />
<b>The day of travel:</b><br />
<br />
Discover that 3 checked bags, 2 laptop bags, and 2 carryon bags are actually kind of a lot to wrangle.<br />
<b> </b><br />
Give a mental (and maybe physical) fist-pump when your checked bags all come in at least a couple of pounds below the limit.<br />
<br />
Make all your flights, in spite of delays and a crazy woman in Frankfurt who had to be dragged off the shuttle by police.<br />
<br />
Reclaim your bags (yay, they all made it!), drag them to the train station and onto your train.<br />
<br />
Exit train station, find taxi driver. Try to resist the urge to explain that you're not just the world's worst vacation packers when his fellow driver laughs at the guy for drawing the fare with all the heavy bags.<br />
<br />
Get to bed and breakfast (home for 3 days), find out your room is up 2 tiny, narrow flights of stairs. You'd re-examine yet again your definition of "necessary," but you really just want to go to sleep, so you lug them upstairs and fall into bed.<br />
<br />
-----------------------<br />
<br />
And that's it. I'll continue the story once we get into our apartment (tomorrow!) and check in with the city officials (required within 8 days of our arrival).Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com5Gent, Belgium51.053468 3.730379999999968350.734267 3.0849329999999684 51.372669 4.3758269999999682tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9054975214314470915.post-87539415331676927982013-04-28T15:28:00.000+02:002013-04-28T16:09:15.099+02:00Moving ... for at Least a Little WhileLife sure does get in the way of blogging. And when you feel like not much of interest is going on, <i>that</i> gets in the way of blogging, too.<br />
<br />
But since there's something to report, I'm back. Morgan got an offer of a 6-month research position (June or July through the end of the year), which is awesome. The position is in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ghent" target="_blank">Ghent, Belgium</a>. Which is also presumably awesome - I can't say with any authority, since I've never been there. Morgan has been to Belgium twice and Ghent once, and he assures me I'll like it. (I admit to being apprehensive about the rainy weather that seems to be much-talked about.)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f4/BelfortGent.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f4/BelfortGent.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Overview of Ghent (<a href="http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:BelfortGent.jpg" target="_blank">source</a>)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
It's funny how these things work out though. My son will be starting at CU Boulder in the fall, and it gave me a reason to be pleased about being stuck in Denver, finally. Now, we'll be leaving before Jacob gets here and instead of being 30 miles away, we'll be ... well, a whole lot farther - an ocean and eight time zones. It's disappointing timing, but I know this is how things often work; circumstances fling us around and all we can do is see each other when we can.<br />
<br />
We already had plans to go to California for Jacob's graduation on May 29 and spend a couple of weeks there, so now the end of May is our target date for paring down our stuff and being ready to go. It's going to be a whirlwind of thrift store donations, Craigslist ads, paperwork-filing, packing and driving to California over the next 30 days. <br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03704730807275255524noreply@blogger.com0