When I was a little girl, field trips were a *big deal.*  So much so, that my mom took me to the store to pick out field trip day lunch treats.  This typically meant we got a bag of potato chips or some sort of sweet goodness made by Hostess.  One time, as a huge generous gesture my mom offered to buy me one of those fruit pies that came in a waxed paper wrapping t hat was likely less waxy than the crust of said pie.   I really wanted to try lemon, but was concerned that upon biting into the lemon deliciousness I would have a spontaneous pucker and find myself either facially contorted in front of my classmates or forever molded into a pucker.  (Have I mentioned that I am slightly catastrophic?)  My ever so patient and non-judgemental mom suggested I take another flavor on the trip and try the lemon one in the safety of her…at home.  What a deal!  Not only did both my brother and I get a fruit pie, but an additional one for sampling.  I have taken it upon myself to carry this tradition of extra-special-normally-contraband food item allowed in the lunch sack for field trips only.  However, there is a slight difference here.  One, I can send a homemade treat if so requested and two, there are so many German/French/Italian treats that there are not enough school field trips to cover it all.  The only option?  Well, my dear friend Samantha recently commented “your life is like a field trip.” 

Is it just recently that our life turned into a field trip?  I mean, we  get up, go to work, shuttle to and fro sports practices, grocery shop, mow the lawn, and in general lead the predicted life a grown up has.  Seriously, because we took one full day of air travel to get here justify our life as a field trip?  After careful consideration and definition searching I have concluded, quite confidently and happily that yes our life is like a field trip.  Does this mean I failed to see the delight and wonder in our previous home?  Did we not explore enough or take in the sights?  What all did we take for granted and consider commonplace when indeed a luxury was before us?  And free or family time-when was that? My answer has to be that no, I did not fail to find delight in Portland at all.  I never once passed a good cafe’ without immediately stopping or at least planning a stop, the produce at New Seasons got my glowing report frequently, and don’t even get me started on Farmer’s Market’s or neighborhood fountains to frolick in.  So what makes now more of a field trip, you ask?  Each day I am seeing new things and learning at least one new item-a fact, a word, or newsworthy item that was completely foreign to me.  Going to the store is a field trip in it’s own right.  Talk about a treat, a surprise, a possible pucker potential!  And without sounding like a Real Simple fan that spends $150 on a perfect white T (okay, I read Real Simple and the views expressed are not necessarily those of other, gentle readers.  I do refuse to spend $150 on a T no matter how perfect) the basic act of opening my front door still has me in awe.  Honestly, our surroundings are so extremely beautiful that even driving to and errand is stunning.  There is not a village, city, or marktplatz that has gone unappreciated or not sent chills of fortune up my spine.  Even though all these villages, cities, and marktplatz are pretty much the same, they never fail to impress or charm the heck out of us.  Even B has been known to give an animated emotial “wowww” when he sees the onion topped churches, Klosters, or Dom’s.  A true boy of the field trip.  And speaking of field trips, we are working our way through all the suprises one may find in a brown paper sack on a field trip. Everyday.

Or-

The baguette-a love affair

Walk your way to fatigue in 12 short hours

720 steps to the top

The busy city

Paris-where driving is a free for all

Statues, paintings, churches OH MY!

So dear reader, you can see that we spent spring break in Paris.  Ahhh, the gay Pah-ree.  Pretty much the photographer Robert Doisneau captures Paris to a T.  Remember those black and white posters some of us lusted after to cover the walls of our dorm rooms?  Couples kissing at outdoor cafes…….I am here to tell you that Paris is a very uninhibited city.  There is something in the air that brings out the excitement of love.  I could have made an entire photo file of couples, which is probably what  made millions for Mr.Doisneau.  It makes sense now.  The city does offer more sights than love.  Take cathedrals and gardens.  Or perhaps paintings and sculptures.  Yes, Paris offers plenty of structures to go into, climb, and meander.  This is a plus for those toting around 4 children and a never been to Europe Mother-in-Law.  Travelling to such a big city, especially when FTL (French as a third language) lends itself to a wee bit of navigational and organizational stress.  I have to say, we secretly worship Rick Steves-aka “Ricky.”  For about one millionth of a second I put ourselves out of the tourist crowd by consulting the book in the car or hotel, memorizing routes and streetnames, tips, and recommendation.  Like I said, a millionth of a second later we whipped out Ricky, gazed quizzically up at the street signs, all while protecting the young from the not so considerate Parisian drivers.  It was only during the few moments when the books were tucked away in our bags that we were the envy of the neighboring confused tourist-little did they know that we were being guided by the same guy they were.  Which brings me to the cattle prod portion of Paris.  If anyone has any fantasy of slowly walking through the Louvre gazing at the Mona Lisa, or whisking up to the Eiffel Tower and holding hands (or meeting a long lost lover at midnight) and basking in quiet solitude in the Gardens of the Versailles Chateau….I am here to tell you that at least 3million other people will be joining you on that same quest.  Do not get me wrong here-These sights, and more, are over the top chance of a lifetime gorgeous things to see.  Seriously.  Let’s start with the simple act of arriving to the city.

Pick a lane, any lane……..anytime.  Driving into Paris was what I imagine a sock goes through during the wash cycle.  Makes the spin cycle seem like the easy part.  Brian was amazing-the roundabouts, which were more like a wide open non marked circle were-for lack of a better word-insane.  No rules, no lanes, no tit for tat.  Somehow we managed without a ding to us or others.  I am shocked.  Mopeds and smart cars, little fiats, buses-we all mixed together in one big adrenalin pumping moment.  We did opt for driving in and parking for the day (read-walking for 12 hours) and taking the water taxi as necessary.  The water taxi is a nifty way to get to and from each major sight.  It was so incredible to be floating down the Seine river and Voila, the Eiffel Tower pops into view.  We also experienced the Metro which was fast, but cozy.  Luckily the kidlets did not quite come to the realization that a lot of ground was covered by mass transit, otherwise we would have had a riot on our hands.  I kid you not, on day two we were on foot from ten to ten.  It was rather amazing that the only meltdown occurred at the car, at the end of the day, over ice cream.  Not bad, really.

In no particular order we walked the Marais neighborhood, climbed the Eiffel Tower, toured the Louvre, went into the Luxumbourg Gardens, Notre Dame, Versailles, Champs Elysees and the Arc de Triomphe, Latin Quarter, Rue Cler neighborhood and at a baguette or two (or dozen)  In between these we joined the masses in walking with a purpose and oohing and awing over all the gigantic buildings.  There are so many it is unbelievable.  I had no idea just how vast Paris was until getting above it all in the Eiffel Tower.  It was a “whoa” moment for sure.  Being the safety conscience catastrophic nut I am, I was very relieved that no Paris evacuation was necessary.  There is no possible way.  The city is huge.  And a tad deceptive.  About that.  When you are that high above a city (720 steps just to the second level) one becomes ambitious about walking a certain proximity.  Nothing looks *that* far away when so high up.  Hence the massive walking.  It’s unfortunate none of us had a pedometer on. 

Baguettes.  Okay folks.  This is the real deal.  It takes one baguette to become a snob of the long skinny loaf.  <insert long heavy sigh and gaze forlornly to the right> At the end of the day, as all those same busy purposeful people are heading the other direction from morning they are snacking on a baguette.  It’s what they do, and they do it well.  And I highly doubt they tire of the baguette.  That would be a huge insult.  And what about French pastries?!  What appears to be sweet and dense turns out to be light and ever so slightly sweet.  A hint of chocolate, just enough sugar sprinkled with the almonds, a touch of jam.  It all melts in your mouth and leaves you longing for the next morning.  Or perhaps the next boulangerie down the street.  And yes, it is extremely urksome that the French are not big folk.  harumph.

Versailles is spectacular.  We happen to now have our own little Marie-Antoinette expert among us thanks to a little listening room in M-A’s retreat house.  In just a few short minutes my little miss was able to rattle of facts about the gardens and the Grand Trianon-who lived where, why certain linens were used, what went on…..and so forth.  Really, the gardens are gorgeous and so lovely to walk through.  I felt like we were truly visiting someone’s residence.  It is well done and meticulous without being creepy.  In the summer all the fountains come to life and have sort of a mini water show a’la Neptune.  As luck would have it, we spent so long in the gardens that we had about 20 minutes to scamper through the Chateau.  It was kind of fun to walk from room to room quickly and snap photos fast and furious.  As a bonus, it was not crowded! 

Do I want to go back to Paris?  Yes, mainly to now see and do things that much more efficiently.  It would be fun to rest in one of the city parks and sip wine (and eat a baguette) or eat a very late dinner with the night scene.  Or perhaps go into the stores and experience shopping-Parisians take shopping very seriously.  Everything in Paris seems rather urgent-fast moving crowds, constant wail of sirens, mopeds zipping around, and lots of external noise.  Voices are quiet, so when you sit down to eat, you are not at all disrupted by chatter or other people’s business.  In fact, for as busy as this city is-lounging seems to be a form of recreation.  The parks are full, the streetside cafe’s are full….we all were soaking up the city and absorbing this fascinating, exciting, cultural city.

The past few weeks have been Fasching here in Germany.  What is Fasching, you ask?  We are not entirely sure, but from what we have seen and experienced it is kind of  Carnivale or Mardi Gras-esce.  Several weekends ago we stumbled upon a very merry dinner crowd pre-functioning for Fasching.  Perhaps a bit of a warm-up to what the days and nights would bring.  Then, when our friend Bill was visiting we again stumbled upon a full-blown costume and dance competition Fasching party at the local gasthaus.  We were the only ones sans costumes and it felt very awkward to be dressed as Fasching stalkers.  As luck would have it, B got to have a Fasching party at school with costumes, hats, and treats so he could sit us down and fill us in on the details and expectations.  Thank gosh someone knew what to do.  Last Sunday, the 22nd of February we went to the tiny, yet very jubilant village down the hill and viewed the Fasching Parade.  The women in our neighborhood were partaking dressed as our South of the Border neighbors (they are very un-PC in what they called themselves so we will leave that part out) and the young men in our village were parading as Neandertalias, aka “cavemen.”  Pretty much it is a parade of all nations and the kids get loads of candy.  Most of the revellers were feeling pretty darned festive by 2pm so it made for a lively atmosphere.  We were happy to have something to do on Sunday.  After saying no-thank you to half a dozen schnapps offers we agreed to meet our neighbors after dinner.  We would not want to be known as the borish stick in the mud Amerikaners.  Let us not forget the following week was holiday for our German citizens so a Sunday night merriment in the winter air was completely alright.  It was not hard to find our neighbors, who we have now dubbed The Three Amigos-their sombreros were covered with jewels and stood above the crowd in height.  Somehow everyone’s language improved after a drink-we understood more, they spoke more english and us German.  It was fun and short of hilarious.  The big highlight of the evening is watching the Prinzen Guarde (which sounds like Prison Gard when spoken auf Deutsch).  The Prinzen Guarde is the official dance team of Fasching.  They wear fancy uniforms and do routines each night.  My guess is by Sunday night they are really hoping the crowds do not holler for encores.  This night they were dressed as girl pirates.  Did I mention that two of the kindergarten teachers at B’s school are in the Guarde?  It is quite the honor to be a part of it and it appears as though they have a lot of fun.  So we watched and joined in the excitement of it all.  The streets were filled with costumes elaborate and simple and the beer tents blaring odd renditions of John Denver.  Everyone is very happy to see each other and share in the community of it all.  After what seemed like hours we took our uncostumed selves home and still wonder what really is behind Fasching.

It has been an interesting month-definate highs and lows.  On the low side of things, we were without phone service for over a month and internet for a good portion of that time.  This would not necessarily be a horrible issue if we could easily make all calls via cell phone, or simply use a neighbors phone, or even make one call to the phone company and get the issue resolved.  This brings me to our multiple “conversations” with the phone company.

We dial the company…..

Computer picks up and offers up a menu of choices

We randomly hit zero-”null”

A live voice comes on: “hallo”

Brian: “Hallo.  Versteien sie englisch?”

Phone person, we’ll call her Petra: “Nein.” (no)

Brian: “Someone sprechen Englisch?”

Petra: Ein moment

Put on hold forever.  Half the time the connection would disconnect and we would have to start over.  The other almost half the time noone spoke english.  The above scenario occured about every other day for a good 4 weeks.  To make things faster, I will present you with someone that speaks a little english, and helped us.  Finally.

Brian: Hallo.  Our phone not working for many weeks.  Can you help me?

Monika:  I think so.  What is your number

Brian: Gives number.

Monika: Your phone is off. (stating the obvious)  It is not in our system.

Brian: yes, I agree.  Can I get it in the system.  We have no phone service and this keeps  happening.  Internet off, too.

Monika: Someone turned it off to start over, but noone knew how to restart your service.  I feel sorry.  I will fix it for you.

***FYI-we heard this many times over and were promised reconnection in 48 hours.  After 2 weeks of hearing the 48hour talk, we were getting beyon frustrated.  Monika was helpful, took down our cell numbers, and called Brian throughout the day*****

Monika: You do not have a bank account.

Brian: Yes, we do.  We have given it many times and have record of automatic payment.

Monika: You have too many numbers.  Our system does not recognize all those account numbers.

Brian: Our cell payment is fine, which is the same company as the phone. 

Monika: Bring us your information in person (been there done that) so we can see it.

Brian, being ever so patient:  Kein problem.  Can I give you the information on the phone in hopes it will work.  We have an American bank.

Monika: I am happy to do that.  Your phone will be on soon.  Internet in 48 hours (we were sick of 48 hours!)

I am pleased to announce that after multiple phone calls that did not go nearly as smoothly as the last, our phone and internet are now up and running.  During all this, I had a few moments of very irritating circumstances in the land of Deutsch.  I proudly report that I have either solved  my problems, or grown accustomed to my issue and moved on. 

It all started with emptying the trash.  I simply lifted the garbage bag out of the bin and it ripped, spilling many days worth of coffee grounds and various forms of yuck onto the kitchen floor.  After triple bagging I was forced to mop the entire kitchen, because the outside of the bag managed to get a nice mixture of milk, yogurt, and pickled carrot juice on the outside.  As I was mopping the entire kitchen, it made me realize just how annoying small our kitchen really is.  Normally, spilling the garbage would take up a corner, or small part of said room.  Not here, the spilled trash consumed the whole kitchen floor, plus a little bit of overflow under fridge and to the pantry.  I have since recovered and realized that I am lucky to have a pantry and can house the kitchen aid and processer.  I also know not to buy german garbage sacks.  Imagine tissue thin plastic bags with rock solid plastic ties.  The act of tying up the trash rips the bag up.  It is probably a ploy to get us to be more resourceful and make less trash. 

My other source of madness was derived from the metzgerei-previously my favorite meat counter at the market.  I had quite a fondness for this particular metzgerei, as they were conveniently located in the front of the market I go to, the same ladies worked there day in and day out, they recognized me and knew what I would want or like, and I enjoyed their selection.  Let me just toss out there that cross contamination is not a huge concern in Germany.  Okay, so I proceed to order deli turkey and ham, plus a roast and turkey breast.  Bernadette cuts off a large roast (to which I am trying to not be a bit grossed out at the sheer size of her knife and subsequent cut of meat), weighs it, and wraps it tight like a mama swaddling her newborn then proceeds to fulfill my deli order.  In case you were wondering, I did not leave out any trivial information such as handwashing.  She grabs the turkey breast luncheon meat, slices it all pretty and wraps it and moves on to the ham.  I notice a raw little meatball near the ham, but sort of let that go.  I also notice a stray onion slice from said meatball, ontop of the other slab of ham.  I also let this go, as I am getting a different ham.  The other meat lady goes up to Bernadette, whispers something, and Bernadette proceeds to slice the bottom inch off our deli meat, weighs and wraps it.  By now I am in a bit of a dither and really want to figure out what was wrong with that innocent inch of ham and I no longer want it.  Not being rude, I vow to take a thorough gander upon arriving home.  The rest of my shopping trip was only mildly marred from the experience at the metzgerei.  Suddenly I was irritated with all the unexplainable types of butter, yogurt, sugars, cleaners, and the severe lack of potato chips (like I even buy potato chips, but it still bothered me.)  Not to forget that there were small slugs and dirt chunks in the lettuce and “half” the fruit comes from Turkey, Egypt, and Iran.  I should have simply abandoned all shopping at this point, but was on a roll.  To tie things up, I tossed that deli ham after seeing some weird mushy remnants from the bottom inch.  And no, I have not been back to Bernadette since-it’s only a temporary breakup.

The outcome of all this whining is that during our lack of communication with the outside world we played Boggle until we could spell no longer, honed our tennis skills on the Wii, went swimming, cooked, and explored new metzgereis and ate less lunch meat midday.  Brian started a new job with the Outdoor Recreation department, Jake is playing high school basketball, Nathan went to a math competition, Chloe swam in swim meets (and my cousin and I swam on a relay together!) and Beck is surpassing us with German lingo and turning 4 very soon.

PS:Brian broke the camera on a really fun slide at Playmobil park, so more photos to come soon

Tschuss!

Silvester Menu

Happy New Year!  We spent the transition from 2008 to 2009 in the Bayer Wald skiing, eating, and firing.  When I was little, I loved going to the mountains for some snow activities.  I have fond memories of tramping up to the Trails Club Lodge, having communal dinners, playing pool in the kids room, and putting our damp ski clothes in the drying room.  This year I insisted that we  head to the snow to introduce the kids to skiing.   This was rather daring, as I have not downhill skied in 22 years and was not successful then.  Now, I did learn to ski at the ripe age of 4 thanks to my super ski savvy parents, but there is a strong relearning curve once you become an unseasoned grown up.  But we are in Germany where going skiing is like a Portlander going for a bike ride:  you just do it, and everyone does.  We rented downhill skies from the local outdoor recreation center, packed for snow, and headed up with optimism.  Did I mention we went without a gasthaus reservation, a plan, or complete german language skills?  Have no fear, dear reader-for ignorance and naivety is bliss at times.  We happened upon a lovely gasthaus in the closest city to the ski hub-bub.  Due to some confusion, there were 2 rooms available to us.  Not only that, but we also reserved a table for dinner!  Check that off our list.  We put the ski town address into Phoebe (our GPS) and prepared to throw ourselves in the German ski culture.   How bad could it be, right?  Our family lesson fell through due to the head ski instructor not reaching his employee (big surprise on New Years Eve!) so we decided to rent XC skis and try that.  There was about 1.5-2 hours of good daylight left and the trails are groomed and fairly easy.  The debacle of round one of applying ski gear began.  We now had 12 pairs of skis in the car, 24 individual boots, and equal amount of poles.  To add to the in-car chaos the boot of the car was refusing to open.  Luckily we sent a lead person to the back seat to pull out gear for all of us and we bundled up and hit the trails.  As expected, as soon as Beck had all his gear on he needed to go potty.  Lesson one in yellow snow followed.  A tip for new skiers with children-put their skis on first and have them *sit* and wait.  As each kiddo got skis on they all started down-literally-the trail.  It was like the candy on Lucy and Ethels conveyer belt.  No sooner would we get a kiddo set up, they were out of reach!  Ack!  By the time we got B in his skis and upright, the older ones were out of sight.  We figured they must have learned quickly.  While Brian PATIENTLY helped B, I scooted to catch up to the other three on the loop.  Sure enough, they were skiing relatively well for first timers.  Going up an incline had its’  challenges, but overall they did super.  It was very fun, no tears were shed, and no poles got thrown.  At the end of the loop-appropriately called the Tannenbaum Loipe-was a small sledding hill so we took a few runs down that.  B definately won the prize for most daring and farthest run on a sled.  After we were sufficiently frozen we stepped inside the quaint warming hut for hot drinks.  It was a neat little set up that warming hut.  A kitchen on one side and a woody, lodgelike room on the other.  There was one large round table with benches, a woodstove, and windows to watch the snowplow (or other skiers during the day)  We watched the sunset and chatted with the woman over hot drinks and fresh kuchen (chocolate cherry and an egg nog one)  Everything seemed so mellow and calm.  Little did we know!  At the gasthaus we cleaned up, reorganized the car and slowly made our way to dinner.  The people working were so nice and genuinly eager to get to know the guests.  There was a set menu (Silvester Menu) with 3 or 5 courses.  Brian did the 5-er and I the 3.  The kids all got schnitzel, pommes, and dessert.  It was unanimous that the schnitzel was #1 thus far.  Actually, this place referred to it as “cutlet.”  The most impressive twist was the gasthaus restaurant had and actual chef working the kitchen.  The menu was a tish different than most german places.  It was very exciting.  Each dish was delicious.  Hands down, it was one of the best meals I have ever had (excluding a similar prix fixe supper in PDX) The food, the wine, the company was fabulous.  We were able to linger, people watch, and enjoy each other for a few hours!   The kids decided to go upstairs and watch a movie  (Back to the Future!  How does that date us!)  so we set them up and returned to our table to enjoy drinks and the people.  It was short of hilarious to watch, and be watched.  As we sampled various schnapps and prosecco, things became even more funny.  Our servers were so sweet and they took time to chat with us and fill us in on details.  It was not easy to stay up until midnight, but it was a must.  Finally, a few moments before midnight, the whole dining room donned their coats, grabbed their drinks, and headed outside.  The bartender told us it was time for the firing and shooed us along outside.  Sure enough, fireworks were getting set up and at the stroke of midnight, they were firing off in every direction.  It was insane.  There, on the little front steps to the gasthaus, were about 25 people standing a few feet from bottle rockets, roman candles, and sparklers.  Up and down the streets and alleys was the same scene.  We realized that the Germans have a love affair with all things flame related.  A few minutes was enough and we scampered upstairs to be with the kiddos.  The olders were awake and we opened our window so they could enjoy some of the outside festivities.  We all fell asleep to the sounds of fireworks, laughter, and music that lasted through the night.   New Years Day involved the downhill portion of skiing.  Pretty much B is a half year older than most German kids that learn to ski, and thekids that are 6 years old are far more skilled than most grownups I know (myself included.  The 4 year olds are more confident than I)  It was so cute to see these little kids zizzing the slopes.   Brian and I found a small roped off area of flattish terrain and  gave the kids a small lesson in balance, turning, and how to get up from falling.  B lasted all of 5 minutes then sledded around us.  I tried skiing backward, putting him between my skis, pulling him with poles, all to no avail.  Meanwhile Chloe and Nathan were getting the hang of it with some practice.  Fortunately, Jake had a ski lesson last weekend so he could help out.  At this point we decided to meander over to the actual skiing area and hit the slopes.  The ticket situation is confusing and we botched it by buying tickets to the wrong t-bar.  After catching on that each t-bar is a separate ticket, we decided to pay per run.  It’s 0.60 euro per run.  Of course it was the Witty’s that made the t-bar lift have to stop not once, but four times.  This really set Chloe back, but we rallied and got up the mountain.  Jake and I had done a test run first.  My tactic was to follow the ski schule of little kids-they would have the safest and best route!  It was a genius move if I say so myself.  I have no shame.  Chloe took full advantage of every cent and took her time getting down.  Although we only took a few turns, it was a great introduction.  I foresee lessons in our  near future.  I hope the kids look back on their New Year and remember as fondly as I.

For photos of our New Years 2008, click here

….in the air there’s a feeeeeeeling of Christmas.  The past few days we have enjoyed doing some Christmas shopping in the city.  I have to say, it is truly experiencing what the writer of Silver Bells must have many years ago.  The city sidewalks are hustling and bustling, there is music in the air, and people are dressed in holiday style.  One of the most noticeable differences is that people are not lugging around gigantic shopping bags, or pushing and shoving, or even looking frantic.  Sure, Christmas is only a few days away but the mood is festive and people are out enjoying the crisp air (where is our snow!) and drinking gluhwein to warm up.  On Saturday we went into Regensburg to shop in the marktplatz as well as visit the Thurn und Taxis weihnachtsmarkt.  It is on the castle grounds which is a lovely venue.  There was  new food to be had, and different wares to purchase and peruse.  All along the market were fire pits with benches to warm up.  Beck was a delight and did his best to behave and charm the ladies at the booths.  His cheeks were pinched and he was the recipient of many treats and bobbles.  We think it was the snowsuit and the delight of stomping in every puddle that helped.  In all honestly, it was likely the half meter smoked sausage that put him in a great mood.  After the weihnachtsmarkt we braved the downtown platz, which ended up being delightful.  There are two large department stores that are reminiscent of Fredrick and Nelsons: a candy store on one level, toys on another, cold weather gear, and a small grocery store with fine foods.  In fact, there is a department store in Nurnberg that has all the above, plus you can eat fresh cooked meals and drink wine, beer, champagne, and liquor.  It is a hoot to see people belly up to the bar eating fish dishes, pasta, and steaks while drinking large glasses of bier and wine.  Mostly the tables are full of men while the women shop!  Beck and I could not resist purchasing a 100g bag of assorted candies to enjoy.  The platz is lit up with twinkling lights and there are several street musicians playing Christmas songs.  Today the girls went into Nurnberg by train and took in the weihnachtmarkt and get a few last minute holiday treasures.  It was so crowded, yet so bearable.  We indulged in dark chocolate covered lebkuchen, cappuccinos, and all the gorgeous buildings surrounding us.  Sipping cappuccinos outside was so much fun and Chloe and her cousin took great delight in sitting in chairs covered with faux sheepskin and blankets on their laps.  It is such a wonderful experience to be a part of a culture that is not rushing around and panicking!  Instead you get justification to meander, eat lebkuchen, and drink in merriment. 

 

 

The children's side of the market

                                                                                                                  

The first weekend of Advent the Christmas Markets open and the crowds flock.  Around here, these markets are called Weihnachtsfest, Chriskringlemarkts, or Lichtsmarkt.  Nurnberg is the biggie, the one to not miss, the nummer eins.  Most of these are held on some sort of regal grounds-Castles and city plazas (marktplatz)  Some are during the day, some in the evening.  Our first weihnacht outing was the day after Thanksgiving.  The monks at the nearby Kloster were having an early season one complete with music, food, and their own beer.  Oh, and I must not forget the infamous gluhwein.  It was small and quaint, yet we were satiated.  My dad bought a flask of medicinal liquid that smelled like a cross between pine and vodka.  It had some sort of pharmaceutical cure all that worked both internally and topically.  After our time there, we decided to go to another on our way home.  It was not directly on our way home but it was worth stopping.  This was up a steep gravel hill to a very old and tall castle.  The entire grounds were lit up with twinky lights and the always present open flame.  The way I can describe these markets are to first visualize an outdoor farmers market.  For the Portland crew, think of the Farmer’s Market at PSU…….okay, now remove all the  pop up tents and replace with wooden huts-some that are open like the tents, and others have a shelf and the people stand behind the “counter” with all their products laid in front and on shelves behind then.  The most prominent feature at each market is gluhwein, bratwurts, and waffelns.   Gluhwein is basically a hot red wine with seasonings.  Like apple cider, but alcohol.  There must be at least 60% gluhwein huts at any given market.  So, back to the tall castle on the steep hill.  It was very dark out, cold, and stunning with all the lights and people walking around.  It is truly amazing that no small child got lost or misplaced.  The food is delicious and it is apparent that Germans never tire of brat mit brot (bratwurst on a kaiser type roll)  What I have noted is that the markets have all the same things for sale, but the surroundings make them unique.  I know when I go to a weihnachtsmarkt I will see the famous heart shape cookies hanging as decoration,  finely cut wood ornaments, lebkuchen, and gluhwein.  However, at one market I might see the sun set, or the Alps as a backdrop, an angel passing out sparklers, or snow falling and church bells ringing.  Although I am tired of what there is to buy, I love to see the character each market provides.  In Garmish, the market was late into the evening and people were standing around enjoying shots of amaretto and socializing.  The kids played on a mound of snow and ice in the middle of it all.  These markets bring people together in the spirit of the season.  In Nurnberg, I will always cherish walking the aisles with my parents and feeling snowflakes on my eyelashes. 

A few days a week I drive into the next town along the most amazing road.  The road itself is your typical run of the mill pavement….I just have to set the scene as best I can.  Imagine your favorite country road-narrow, great scenery, a bit windey.  After passing fields, I dip down a bit to a heavily tree lined section that is even more narrow then pop out to an “intersection” before a small neighborhood.  This is where it starts to get really cool.  To really top it off, I am usually listening to MamaMia which is fun to drive to.  Remember, we have to drive kind of fast here so I am bombing down this narrow road, past fields and trees, and head downhill into the town.  The  road veers right, and there are very traditional german houses right to the edge of the road.  At this point, I half expect old German women to open their shutters and start singing with Chloe and I-in fact, I am surprised they aren’t, harumph!  After crusing by, leaves swirling behind me, I head under the most fabulous thing Nathan has ever seen: a house with a room that goes OVER THE ROAD.  The pavement turns to cobblestone and it’s a bit of a blind entrance under this porta cache-not to mention that it always feels like the car won’t fit-but we do.  The song takes a very inspirational good luck crescendo, then we enter the town and once again I am back to reality in the car.  The reason I have to write about these 4k is that I feel so lucky to experience this.  Sure, some days I ziz on down without much thought to where I am, but it’s days like these that I never want to not appreciate my surroundings.  How often has a certain route become so routine that you don’t take it all in and find some little detail to appreciate where you are? Each day our drive into school/work is different.  Yesterday we had a gorgeous sunrise and frosted trees, today it was dark and windy but very little traffic.  Every day can be an adventure no matter where you are.

I have written briefly about swimming in Germany.  The pools are amazing!  The most “boring” pool we have been to is a gorgeous outdoor pool with a 50m lap pool, a diving board pool, and a wave pool.  The indoor pools are called hellenbad’s-basically a spa pool arena.  Seriously, one of the pools that Chloe goes for swimteam has a masseuse, sauna, and spa.  Plus, once a month they have a themed sauna party.  That is a little sketchy to me, though.  The other pool the team practices at reminds me of SW Community Center in Portland but the water is warm.  It has a rapid fast slide, a current area, bubbles, hot tubs, and a separate lap pool.  Lap swimming in Germany is a whole new experience.  First, it is free game as far as lanes goes.  If you start at one point from the wall, it does not mean you get to swim a straight line to the other wall.  Second, it is likely that you may be the only one swimming freestyle, or putting your face in the water.  Tonight I decided to swap running shoes for cap and goggles and swam laps during the kids’ practice.  When we arrived I was glad to see the cafe tables full of mature adults drinking beer after their swim.  It meant the lap pool would be a bit less crowded than usual.  Typically I am surrounded by leisure swimmers.  By leisure, I mean swimmers that are gracefully floating back and forth.  It is kind of like frogger in the water.  I am bound and determined to find a swim cap that perches on my head complete with flowers and a chin strap.  I would be way less conspicous this way.  It was bad enough that I wore goggles.  So Chloe and I both swam, then took several trips down the slide.  When we first got to Germany I noted how many people wore too small of suits.  Well, it is a well known fact that if you hike up your suit you go faster down the slide.  It’s fondly known as “going cheeky.”  Let’s just say those that do not wear board shorts at the pool tend to go faster down the slide.  Just sayin’!  Like I’ve said before, in Germany you can have a glass of beer, a cappaccino, spaghetti, schnitzel, ice cream, and run on the deck and noone blows a whistle at you!

Last night we celebrated St.Martins day with Beck’s kindergarten class.  What is St.Martin you ask?  Well, rumor has it that St. Martin shared half his coat with a freezing cold man, then dreamt it was Jesus.  He decided to be baptized.  He led the life of a christian, and eventually his town wanted him to become their bishop.  He was so modest that he fled into a barn of geese.  Somewhere he had another dream.  The geese made a lot of racket and he was discovered and conceded to being the town bishop.  You can read more here: http://www.communigate.co.uk/wilts/stmartinslanternwalk/page4.phtml

To celebrate St.Martin, children carry handmade tissue paper lanterns with a burning candle in it.  Not a fake candle, but one that could cause quite a flame should it touch the tissue paper at any moment.  The children were remarkably calm and still as we paraded through town singing songs.  A horse led the way and the fire truck followed slowly behind us.  We arrived at the town elementary school and circled around a fire pit.  Fire is a main theme.  A small reinactment of St.Martin and freezing man was done followed by lots of singing and narrating by sweet little german voices.  Then the handmade lebkuchen was passed around and the warm gluhwein was poured.  It was a nice evening and the weather held out nicely.  Only one minor incident involving, you guessed it-a lantern, a child, a candle, a grownup or two stomping on the lantern.  We did not actually witness this, but the rumor spread like wildfire.  I guess it’s not a St.Martin’s celebration without a tish of a lantern fire.   It was mildly stressful for me, but I could see that this was the mode o’celebration so I figured it was time to let loose a bit.    I was ready to hurdle the fire pit and rescue B on a moments notice.

Pictures will soon follow.  My webguy is done for the day.

Tschuss,

Witty’s