tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87986904906029682732024-03-04T20:30:12.708-08:00The Sardonic TravelerThe ramblings of a business traveler with a (bad) attitude!Nicole Del Sestohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09050845908098902067noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8798690490602968273.post-39480753837895718692012-04-24T19:43:00.001-07:002012-04-24T21:01:26.993-07:00Some things are sacred...This may be my first serious blog post ever.<br />
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I spent most of my life avoiding all things World War II. In my head it was compartmentalized: "Pearl Harbor" - "Nazis/Concentration Camps" - and the "Hollywood Movie" version, which never held a lot of appeal to me.<br />
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Then I got on a WWII literature kick; a fascination began and I couldn't get enough. I had to know - how did IT happen?</div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0375842209/ref=as_li_ss_il?ie=UTF8&tag=allencotrip-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=0375842209"><img border="0" src="http://ws.assoc-amazon.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&Format=_SL110_&ASIN=0375842209&MarketPlace=US&ID=AsinImage&WS=1&tag=allencotrip-20&ServiceVersion=20070822" /></a><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://www.assoc-amazon.com/e/ir?t=allencotrip-20&l=as2&o=1&a=0375842209" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" /> </div>
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My WWII reading didn't start with The Book Thief but it's definitely the book that made me open to reading more. I connected with it emotionally in a compelling way. Since then, I've read WWII books set in Germany, UK, The Netherlands, Poland and Japan, and I have more to read set in Sweden, Italy, and France. Every country has a different tale to tell.
But what about THE country? I needed the facts. I needed to wrap my brain around it.
I needed: </div>
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<a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B005Z57E18/ref=as_li_ss_il?ie=UTF8&tag=allencotrip-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B005Z57E18" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://ws.assoc-amazon.com/widgets/q?_encoding=UTF8&Format=_SL110_&ASIN=B005Z57E18&MarketPlace=US&ID=AsinImage&WS=1&tag=allencotrip-20&ServiceVersion=20070822" /></a></div>
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I decided to listen to the audio (and it's a good thing I did because this thing was COM.PRE.HEN.SIVE! and I don't know if I could have made it through the printed version.) At 57 hours, it was a humdinger - and it took me 6 months to complete.
I was in Germany last week, and decided to visit Dachau concentration camp outside of Munich. In an eerie coincidence of timing, I was listening to the concentration camp portion of Rise and Fall while I was on the train on the way to the camp. It was all quite fresh in my mind. But nothing can prepare you for this: </div>
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<a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://www.scrapbookpages.com/dachauscrapbook/DachauPhotos/OldPhotos/DachauMorgue1945.jpg&sa=X&ei=kEuXT4ezN4HkiAK4-cDeDw&ved=0CAsQ8wc4Pw&usg=AFQjCNH7RgLQ4BqLObq7X6BlRKeWfKhVlQ" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="423" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://www.scrapbookpages.com/dachauscrapbook/DachauPhotos/OldPhotos/DachauMorgue1945.jpg&sa=X&ei=kEuXT4ezN4HkiAK4-cDeDw&ved=0CAsQ8wc4Pw&usg=AFQjCNH7RgLQ4BqLObq7X6BlRKeWfKhVlQ" width="576" /></a></div>
For thousands of innocents (and a few select not-so-innocents) this was the last glimpse they had of freedom. A harbinger of unimaginable suffering and certain death. Starvation; torture; utter humiliation and complete loss of dignity.
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Jews, prisoners of war, and others deemed inferior by Nazi Germany were sent to Dachau or other concentration camps, and literally worked to death.
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<a href="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/holocaust/images/time45_03_dachau_l.jpg&sa=X&ei=R1aXT83GGvLaiQKD5OHzDw&ved=0CAoQ8wc4Jg&usg=AFQjCNGTFLagygr-QM-gJqXqKQZLf7ZoQA" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="370" src="http://www.google.com/url?source=imglanding&ct=img&q=http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/holocaust/images/time45_03_dachau_l.jpg&sa=X&ei=R1aXT83GGvLaiQKD5OHzDw&ved=0CAoQ8wc4Jg&usg=AFQjCNGTFLagygr-QM-gJqXqKQZLf7ZoQA" width="467" /></a></div>
Maybe they got a spoonful of food a day. Maybe they had a pair of shoes that fit. Maybe they didn't.<br />
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After my 57 hours of Hitler's Germany, thousands of pages of fiction and non-fiction and a visit to Dachau, I can't say I'm any closer to understanding how IT happened, but this is the impression I'm left with.<br />
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Do I think anybody cares? Or will even read this? I don't know, but like so many before me, I need to get it out.<br />
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{I'll caveat this, as I always feel I need to do ... I love Germany. I love Germans. I love Jewish people and Jewish culture.} <br />
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At the end of the first World War, Germany had a bruised ego. Along comes Hitler ... and he tells the German people, "We are the master race" and they are all "Fucking A we are." And they got behind him. Not all of them, for certain, but enough of them.<br />
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I always thought of Hitler as pure evil and I'm just not sure that's accurate. He was bat-shit crazy. A complete nutter. A sociopath? a psychopath? a severely mentally ill individual. On top of that he was probably a genius and he was a brilliant orator. He knew how to whip his people into a froth - a "furor" - a frenzy; and get them to buy-in to his whack-job ideas. Hitler told everybody EXACTLY WHAT HE WAS GOING TO DO right from the start. So when you ask, how did IT happen?, you kind of have to answer ... the world let it happen.<br />
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One of the most important things I've learned in recent years is - when somebody tells you exactly what they are going to do, you have to believe them. That may sound simple, but our desires get in the way of "the truth." There were so many times Hitler could have failed, but he just kept going.<br />
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Here's a question I asked myself: Was the rest of the world eager to be rid of the Jews? Did they let Germany do their dirty work?
Or - maybe we were just gun shy having just come out of WWI.
Whatever the reason, the world is as much to blame for what happened in Nazi Germany as Nazi Germany is - in my opinion.<br />
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Dachau is a memorial today. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBIJIAAAN1FFFdBem0nldSgSKk8gKsjLlONmNLaGSxJdyD8drO4xngYat1LP4HXI36tfxCQ49ZHX8OiIaL6uMrjqEYnw9vwC05QcNgVBiPkvFsgI_RIIoayDC1W8fxfLaItGfCQA8yT-c/s1600/DSC01321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBIJIAAAN1FFFdBem0nldSgSKk8gKsjLlONmNLaGSxJdyD8drO4xngYat1LP4HXI36tfxCQ49ZHX8OiIaL6uMrjqEYnw9vwC05QcNgVBiPkvFsgI_RIIoayDC1W8fxfLaItGfCQA8yT-c/s640/DSC01321.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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It's still and quiet. Sanitized.<br />
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I felt nauseous the whole time I was there. <br />
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There is a convent onsite and the nuns constantly pray for atonement. Dachau today is designed to atone.<br />
But there is no atonement for those people. All we can hope is that the atoning that's being done, for what was done, can help prevent it from happening again.<br />
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NEVER. AGAIN. Not there, not anywhere. <br />
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America is so often criticized for sticking our noses in where it doesn't belong. I believe that had we gotten involved in what was happening in Germany sooner, we could have saved thousands, perhaps millions of lives. Maybe that is part of why we got involved in Vietnam in the way that we did. It had only been 20-something years since WWII ... maybe we were scared of THAT happening again. (And please forgive my ignorance on the topic of world history - I may be saying things that are completely "duh" - but I was absent a lot in high school.)<br />
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Maybe we are Team America: World Police because somebody needs to be.<br />
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Because this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgznvlW_irgg9AZgAPyRzZNTxx06CaNAnv49lZZ6Vu1EnSRy3sl-ctsA_OoG9wyD1LSw1jc_DRp5o8ggzxK4H2RdHRT23KEY1yXgFwO34oUev84uL5L-Z0kmYYctiUSXMiwDmy2TBO7b6M/s1600/DSC01322.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgznvlW_irgg9AZgAPyRzZNTxx06CaNAnv49lZZ6Vu1EnSRy3sl-ctsA_OoG9wyD1LSw1jc_DRp5o8ggzxK4H2RdHRT23KEY1yXgFwO34oUev84uL5L-Z0kmYYctiUSXMiwDmy2TBO7b6M/s400/DSC01322.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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can never happen again, and this:<br />
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should never have happened in the first place.<br />
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I've often wondered why so many books and movies are set in World War II. And sure, there is plenty of material from it. What I think, after my personal WWII journey, is that the writers and the artists and the movie makers; the readers, the visitors, the students - we are all trying to process what is ultimately not processable. And I think that's fine. We should never assimilate this.<br />
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One of the survivors from Dachau created this sculpture. I think it speaks for itself.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaTmGrsEujEp10J16TWpKCF1h0_Y6eWHQX8zjpnx-enG_vHar6WxY0OU7aS4ffnq2Bm35DTvPPCcTf8oS9EF-aYPtpb8zJKYLsPP_TwnFq39FKVMkSA5383lSAIjuyFy-BeCQauDdEn24/s1600/DSC01319.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaTmGrsEujEp10J16TWpKCF1h0_Y6eWHQX8zjpnx-enG_vHar6WxY0OU7aS4ffnq2Bm35DTvPPCcTf8oS9EF-aYPtpb8zJKYLsPP_TwnFq39FKVMkSA5383lSAIjuyFy-BeCQauDdEn24/s640/DSC01319.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<br />Nicole Del Sestohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09050845908098902067noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8798690490602968273.post-48012202452294814722011-06-20T17:37:00.000-07:002011-06-22T15:52:57.702-07:00Roxanne? We'll leave the light on for you<a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/119/deb2e9a5ad3d4e349a64658f4b8085d4/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/119/deb2e9a5ad3d4e349a64658f4b8085d4/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Dearest Kitty,<br /><br />I think about this often, but it’s so unfortunate that letters and journals are seemingly a part of our past. Amsterdam reminded me that there will be no future, “Letters to Theo” or “The Diary of a Young Girl.” Our culture will be relegated to sentiments no longer than 140 characters, and filled with emoticons. :-) I <i>want</i> to read about <a href="http://htmlgiant.com/excerpts/sylvia-plaths-boogers/">Sylvia Plath’s boogers</a>! Seriously, nobody’s gonna blog about that. (And yet I Google “Sylvia Plaths boogers" and lo and behold, there is a blog about Sylvia Plath's boogers.)<div><br /></div><div><p class="MsoNormal">The Tweets of Anne Frank just wouldn’t have been the same. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p>(</o:p>Now Kitty, before you get your hairballs in a knot, please know that I am not mocking Anne. Anne is a heroine in my book, and I want to be her BFF. I am not making light of her situation or her tragic end. I am making social commentary about the state of our expression, and the decline of our youth because I am now 47 and talk about things like the decline of our youth. For the record, I also really love Germans. A German Jew? The holy grail, man, the holy grail.)</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p><b>@AnneFrankHides:</b> ‘Sup bitches. 12 hours in hiding. Mom already buggin’ #nazissuck</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>@AnneFrankHides:</b> New boarder here at Prinsengracht 267 #oldguysleepinginmyroom</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>@AnneFrankHides: </b> Somebody revealed our location <span style="font-family:Wingdings">L</span> #nazissuck</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>@AnneFrankHides:</b> Ooops #thenazisarecoming</p>Tweets with Theo<o:p></o:p><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:10.0pt;font-family:"Arial","sans-serif""><o:p> </o:p></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b>@VincentVtotheG: </b> Duuuuudddeee …. Drank Absinthe and TOTALLY cut my ear off LOLZ #canyouhearmenow <o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/116/1f2c4080212741848f66c6dd8429da11/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/116/1f2c4080212741848f66c6dd8429da11/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">Amsterdam is a lovely little city with horrific weather. It was so cold, and I was so unprepared that I thought I would have to purchase an Anne Frank Hoodie. <o:p></o:p></p><br /><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/133/9335c092191e41aab88d4f6e5d4eadef/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/133/9335c092191e41aab88d4f6e5d4eadef/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>(Centraal Station)<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/148/02561f0e698a4765b4ed9f10d3483a3d/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/148/02561f0e698a4765b4ed9f10d3483a3d/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>(Dam Square - Brad and Janet nowhere in sight - Dam it!)<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/147/5ed762d4be3141209688127e6e4236b4/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/147/5ed762d4be3141209688127e6e4236b4/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />It's a bike town, and in the "summer" ... (Hard to call it summer when it's 50 degrees)<br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/05f267809c6543dd84ba261e697720e8/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/05f267809c6543dd84ba261e697720e8/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />the sun stays out until 1030PM. (I know that's a blurry shot, but it's the only twilight photo I got. Bella! Edward!) which did not at all stop me from falling asleep at 8:00PM. Oh yeah, Amsternikki Rocked it.<br /><br /></div><div><br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/3b7f2ffef7434e7f9b6f65a1c450c765/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/3b7f2ffef7434e7f9b6f65a1c450c765/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>View from my room at bedtime - the only sunny time of day.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/118/3f36d9545120470f943bfe75bc73ec45/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/118/3f36d9545120470f943bfe75bc73ec45/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>I did the "tourist thing" including Anne Frank House<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/145/b6de54b1c33f459ba221f47ebea6d333/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/145/b6de54b1c33f459ba221f47ebea6d333/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><div>And the Van Gogh (pronounced Van short-productive-cough-noise) museum, and just a slight release of my inner pretentious tool, there is NOTHING like a Van Gogh sun. And if you haven’t seen one in person, you really need to. The textures are amazing, and what I think the artist was trying to express …<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMypHrbloosSbvyGYd0_lYMIfMyiA3o6r7C_7mXYYG6k8UROpjQ2QXwGe1EYrwdj6ZSej1rZeiztq_yHhgTfmhDJTvxCm3lwNWDuabJL-eRnRHOyoSWO9n8tzXihCVVIpxyBf7UbCc3gqQ/s1600/Van+Gogh;+Sower+&+Sun.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1600px; height: 1280px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMypHrbloosSbvyGYd0_lYMIfMyiA3o6r7C_7mXYYG6k8UROpjQ2QXwGe1EYrwdj6ZSej1rZeiztq_yHhgTfmhDJTvxCm3lwNWDuabJL-eRnRHOyoSWO9n8tzXihCVVIpxyBf7UbCc3gqQ/s1600/Van+Gogh;+Sower+&+Sun.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a></div><div>And yes, Kitty, if you must know, I DID receive an e-mail from my mother, to my work e-mail address, asking me if I saw hookers and smoked pot. What I can tell you, is I saw hookers. Beyond that, w<span class="hps"><span lang="NL" style="mso-ansi-language:NL">at gebeurt er</span></span><span class="shorttext"><span lang="NL" style="mso-ansi-language:NL"> </span></span><span class="hps"><span lang="NL" style="mso-ansi-language:NL">in Amsterdam</span></span><span class="shorttext"><span lang="NL" style="mso-ansi-language:NL"> </span></span><span class="hps"><span lang="NL" style="mso-ansi-language:NL">verblijf in</span></span><span class="shorttext"><span lang="NL" style="mso-ansi-language:NL"> </span></span><span class="hps"><span lang="NL" style="mso-ansi-language:NL">Amsterdam.</span></span></div><div><br />We did a bit of window shopping. </div><div><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/134/442d6cb9a0714a57befe986eed2abdef/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 450px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/134/442d6cb9a0714a57befe986eed2abdef/l.jpg" /></a>(Is that a carrot on your wang or orange you glad I didn't say banana again?)<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/128/3c2415858dc14ae48f262c27d195ac51/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 450px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/128/3c2415858dc14ae48f262c27d195ac51/l.jpg" /></a>Uh. Wince.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/133/9bba8ceedd8e4f1ab59a41f912ee4356/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 450px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/133/9bba8ceedd8e4f1ab59a41f912ee4356/l.jpg" /></a>(We went back the next day and the boobies were gone. This window is classic. I wish my shadow wasn't marring its pornographic perfection.)<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/d19e62ad4591425a937b0f04985c7177/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 450px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/d19e62ad4591425a937b0f04985c7177/l.jpg" /></a>How much is that mommy in the window? The one with the silicone tits? Yeah, that's right. She could well be somebody's mother. Do you feel bad about gawking now? </div><div><br /></div><div> <p class="MsoNormal">Fun fact: They do NOT sell gum at Amsterdam airport. I cannot imagine why. Really. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Travel Tip: If you stand on the moving walkway, people know you are a tourist. (See also: complaining when the TSA takes your Costco sized toothpaste away)</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Travel Tip 2: Two of the best burgers in my life have come from Radisson Hotels in Europe. Now, you may not be thinking I cannot wait to get to Europe and eat a Radisson burger, but you would be missing out. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">By day 3 in Amsterdam, I realized it was really a two-day city. Maybe a day and a half. Touring choices that day were Electric Ladyland Museum “The First Museum of Florescent Art” (which I’m kind of sorry I didn’t choose), and the Amsterdam Zoo. Since it was raining and windy, it only made sense to choose the zoo. But here’s why:</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hps"><span lang="NL" style="mso-ansi-language:NL"><o:p> </o:p></span></span></p><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/151/97be815ff2564159a33aee41dd429339/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 450px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/151/97be815ff2564159a33aee41dd429339/l.jpg" /></a>LEMURS! Baby LEMUR!<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/120/18b9f22d6f7c4754a68a161733ad80ce/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 450px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/120/18b9f22d6f7c4754a68a161733ad80ce/l.jpg" /></a>Dude - I totally feel you. My neck hurts too. <br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/118/51312bd867f847ebaf99c46860a51467/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 450px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/118/51312bd867f847ebaf99c46860a51467/l.jpg" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hps"><span lang="NL" style="mso-ansi-language:NL">The lemurs aren’t caged, but apparently won’t cross water. A fun fact I did not know. So you can get right up close to them. Another fun fact I did not know, they will scream when children pet them. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/115/9784559c0227431fbc4cb30ed610d4ce/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 450px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/115/9784559c0227431fbc4cb30ed610d4ce/l.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/150/a296840774004cbb9509dc8b1422d906/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 450px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/150/a296840774004cbb9509dc8b1422d906/l.jpg" /></a>Guess what? What? Monkey Butt.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/116/5d8f622a0eaa46c3b25ed810e8d41a31/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 450px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 600px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/116/5d8f622a0eaa46c3b25ed810e8d41a31/l.jpg" /></a>BABY Giraffe.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/126/275d0df038ea437e8bc4364ce1d70361/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 600px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/126/275d0df038ea437e8bc4364ce1d70361/l.jpg" /></a>Mamma feeding baby and herself. </div><div><br /></div><div><br />Here's something I didn't consider doing.<br /><br /><a href="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/120/89c9cb1306674550aaf61c45c6a2c0df/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 450px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/120/89c9cb1306674550aaf61c45c6a2c0df/l.jpg" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hps"><span lang="NL" style="mso-ansi-language:NL">I seems to me that pedaling while you are drinking means that you arrive at your destination sober, and I can almost guarantee that was not the objective of this crew. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">One of my most profound experiences was in the old Jewish quarter. I meant to go there, and I wanted to go there, but when I found myself there it was still a little shocking. (Because, as it turns out, I always turn left, and the fact of the matter is, I'm surprised when I end up anywhere I set out to go.) It was a very quiet street. And I stood there and sort of took it in. I closed my eyes, really trying to feel the persecution of the Jews. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="hps"><span lang="NL" style="mso-ansi-language:NL"> </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">And when I opened my eyes, I was confronted with it. </p><p class="MsoNormal">The persecution of Raw Milk Cheese, which is under threat of extinction. Who knew? </p><p></p><br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/124/41614582d8c743ef9285192994cd698b/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 450px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 600px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/124/41614582d8c743ef9285192994cd698b/l.jpg" /></a><p class="MsoNormal">In closing Kitty, (I do have to admit I’d completely forgotten I was writing you a letter), I’ll leave you with these words of wisdom from “Still Life with Cigarette Pack” </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Roken is dodelijk.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Roken. Is. Dodelijk.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Yours, </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The Sardonic Traveler </p> <a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/114/78903adf646b42a79ac98e254d91ad8d/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 600px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 450px; CURSOR: hand" border="0" alt="" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/114/78903adf646b42a79ac98e254d91ad8d/l.jpg" /></a>p.s. I have to be honest. It never occurred to me before this trip that Roxanne was a Dutch hooker.</div></div><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/150/ee45ccdcbf54420681227caad05c0165/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/150/ee45ccdcbf54420681227caad05c0165/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Nicole Del Sestohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09050845908098902067noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8798690490602968273.post-76793536556485483082011-06-01T17:05:00.000-07:002011-06-01T17:16:15.820-07:00Come ... Let me show you my etchings.Spain knocked the sardonic out of me. This won't be funny, and the pictures aren't particularly great either. I know, I'm disappointed too. The thing is, I was too busy loving the monkey spit out of Spain to make fun of it, and/or take good pictures of it.<br /><br />What I am saying is that Spain is a very special country and one must approach it with respect and with his eyes open. He must be fully aware that once he has penetrated the borders he runs the risk of being made prisoner. (OK, I didn't really say that. James Michener did. I read that on my Kindle while I was standing in line waiting to get into La Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, and it perfectly captured how I was feeling at the moment. With the exception of the irritation I felt about the guy behind me who tried to cut in line. Dude, it's a church, wait your turn.)<br /><br />As usual this was a business trip, so my free time was limited. I landed in Madrid about 700AM, and by 900AM I was on my way to Museo del Prado (by city bus, by the way - Yes. I. Can.)<br /><br />I have previously mentioned my position on people discussing art. My general philosophy with regard to discussing art is: Don't. Dear God, please don't. You sound like a pretentious tool.<br /><br />I will now discuss art.<br /><br />Museo del Prado kicks ass. I was there for over 4 hours, and visited just about every room in the place, including the temporary exhibits which I didn't pay the extra admission to get into, but used my lost tourist "no entiendo" face to great success. I saw hundreds of paintings. Including 32 masterpieces, a copy of the Mona Lisa, Goya's "black period" works (see below: Saturn eating child) and some bitchen' Roman marble sculptures. From Roman time. Like 1AD.<br /><br /><a href="http://blogs.artinfo.com/secrethistoryofart/files/2011/05/Museo_del_Prado_Madrid_02.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1024px; height: 576px;" src="http://blogs.artinfo.com/secrethistoryofart/files/2011/05/Museo_del_Prado_Madrid_02.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The general themes of the art in Prado are: Jesus, Jesus and Mary, and then some Jesus. Other popular themes were: anything sucking on a woman's breast (men, babies, goats); Saturn eating his son???; scary looking children dressed up like Marie Antoinette.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.museodelprado.es/typo3temp/pics/5a5ccac692.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 520px; height: 748px;" src="http://www.museodelprado.es/typo3temp/pics/5a5ccac692.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />And if I may get pretentious tooly for a minute, my favorite painting was this, and I have to say that the photos of it do it no justice, and if you ever get the chance please see this painting in person. I bet you could look at it for an hour and not get bored. You might have to punch some pretentious tool talking about it though.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.museodelprado.es/typo3temp/pics/11ec29dbc0.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 520px; height: 278px;" src="http://www.museodelprado.es/typo3temp/pics/11ec29dbc0.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I also discovered Joachim Patanir who I will now proceed to love, possibly without ever seeing another of his works, and potentially forgetting about him all together.<br /><br />After Prado (where I grabbed a quick lunch of Spanish tortilla, which is an egg dish with potatoes), it was time to see some of the city.<br />I saw this:<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/149/cc2f60f47b6444a484f18d7fc7faefbb/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/149/cc2f60f47b6444a484f18d7fc7faefbb/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Somebody cherry picked this job. (I know, sad attempt)<br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd68cfe3fd2b00000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 400px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd68cfe3fd2b00000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I was told by Lonely Planet Spain that I simply must get Churros and Chocolate, so I headed out in the quasi direction of my destination. I actually Google Mapsed it. I was .4 miles away.<br /><br />2.5 hours later, I found a place that served Chocolate and Churros. It wasn't THE place, but it was A place, and Lonely Planet can suck it (and we will not discuss the fact that I wrote down the wrong address.)<br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/122/76b2e30b66e8411e9a0bc7eec230d888/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/122/76b2e30b66e8411e9a0bc7eec230d888/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />This is the kind of thing you read about in novels and want to try. Like the Turkish Delight in The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe. (Except Turkish Delight didn't turn out to be anything like what I wanted it to be, I mean doesn't it seem like it should be caramelish?) This chocolate was thick, but not as thick as pudding, kind of like hot fudge, but with a different consistency. It was not sweet. It was perfection. The churros I could have lived without, they were also not sweet, but apparently the chocolate isn't actually a drink so you need the churros to convey the chocolate to the mouth. I drank mine anyway. With a diet Coke.<br /><br />Other food highlights: Iberian Pork - OMG! Tender, delicious ... fed exclusively acorns. Shut up. It tasted good. And Gazpacho. Yummm.<br /><br />I could barely drag myself back to my hotel room. I was a long day. I jumped on the Metro, which is fantastic in Spain (naturally, because what isn't fantastic in Spain?), and went back to my fantastic hotel room.<br /><br />With its fantastic color changing light up end tables. (What I noticed about Spain is that every detail of aesthetics is important.) You could pick the color you wanted your tables to be. I chose blue, they really tied the room together.<br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/124/3e80ecb155c1491191e0ea0a91fac77e/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/124/3e80ecb155c1491191e0ea0a91fac77e/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/135/df18e164124d43a0a89aacec7cb49d09/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/135/df18e164124d43a0a89aacec7cb49d09/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/120/932469d68a8843228a08bbed5af6ae55/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/120/932469d68a8843228a08bbed5af6ae55/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />And its Murphy bed style reading light. I totally want one.<br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69bf25dd9900000030O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 400px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69bf25dd9900000030O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />And if you are a so inclined .... A cervical pillow is available from Room Service.<br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd6944cd1ca400000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 400px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd6944cd1ca400000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69914edde500000030O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 400px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69914edde500000030O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I slept 12 hours that night. I ROCKED the jet lag.<br />My face ... not so much.<br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/116/105e19513f1841ce8cea2280b307f594/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/116/105e19513f1841ce8cea2280b307f594/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />The next day I only had a couple hours free, so I Museumed again. This time it was the Museo Reina Sofia, and this is much more my speed in terms of art.<br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd681fb1fd1100000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 400px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd681fb1fd1100000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Dali, Picasso, and this amazing temporary exhibit by Yayoi Kusama.<br /><br /><a href="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/147/cdf506f7f49a4b44bda19cc55d93c801/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/147/cdf506f7f49a4b44bda19cc55d93c801/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Does this remind anybody of <a href="http://thesardonictraveler.blogspot.com/2010/11/shanghai-toot-toot-and-beep-beep.html">China</a>?<br /><br /><a href="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/634693f2a28941d08d945a07102437e6/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/634693f2a28941d08d945a07102437e6/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/c49d1e294fda473fae7c72483eeb62de/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/c49d1e294fda473fae7c72483eeb62de/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />There are way more pics of art I saw at Sofia in the photo link at the end. But here are a few others:<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd68ee33bd7300000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 400px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd68ee33bd7300000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" border="0" alt="" /></a>I'll stand, thanks.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/134/9178ffb90f074613b69805f557c742ee/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/134/9178ffb90f074613b69805f557c742ee/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>View from the museum.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd699e5f9d6b00000030O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 400px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd699e5f9d6b00000030O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" border="0" alt="" /></a>I call this one Still Life with Moldy Shoe<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/a2c68d00561c4907a6d395f5e6249d06/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/a2c68d00561c4907a6d395f5e6249d06/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>The pictures of war section was very cool<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69581a9d4d00000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D720/ry%3D480/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 720px; height: 480px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69581a9d4d00000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D720/ry%3D480/" border="0" alt="" /></a>Do it yourself art.<div><br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69261e1c4600000030O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D720/ry%3D480/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 720px; height: 480px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69261e1c4600000030O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D720/ry%3D480/" border="0" alt="" /></a>Random photo. Carry over Jesus art.<br /><br /><br /></div><div>These sculptures were really amazing, but the eyes are what got to me. I'd swear they were real<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd6911a95c7200000030O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 400px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd6911a95c7200000030O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I loved that you could take pictures (except for the room with Picasso's Guernica) and I loved that you could get right up to the art. I know, here I go again. I am very tactile, and want to touch everything. Since I can't, being able to see the texture of things - particularly globs of paint, really floats my boat.<br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd68b8f33ca800000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 400px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd68b8f33ca800000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Unfortunately, that about does it for Madrid. I loved it, and I would go back ... but Oh. My. God. I left my heart in Barthelona.<br /><br />And you can see why if you just take a glance out my hotel room window.<br /><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/122/59189a27c3a846749cf94d21e8f445ab/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/122/59189a27c3a846749cf94d21e8f445ab/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Barcelona is possibly one of the most interesting cities I've even been to. You have the Mediterranean vibe in one aspect, with the art, and the architecture, with the influence of a devoutly Catholic country.<br /><br />Barcelona was way too gorgeous and my time too limited to spend any of it in a museum. So, naturally I did Cathedrals instead.<br /><br />I read (and loved!) <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B002HREKEQ/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=allencotrip-20&linkCode=as2&camp=217145&creative=399349&creativeASIN=B002HREKEQ">this book</a> about the building of the Santa Maria cathedral, so it was my first stop. It was small and kind of simple, but beautiful.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd680dcd7c5400000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 400px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd680dcd7c5400000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69d45f1c7e00000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 400px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69d45f1c7e00000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Love how this turned out<br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69180d1c4a00000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 550px; height: 400px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69180d1c4a00000030O10AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D1/rx%3D550/ry%3D400/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Day 2 in Barcelona brought another Cathedral. People kept calling it gaudy, but I thought it was really cool.<br /><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/145/c3e6ea0046a146abacf5e3486b17ef37/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/145/c3e6ea0046a146abacf5e3486b17ef37/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Wait. What? ohhhh .... Gaudi. That makes so much more sense.<br /><br />Saturday was my Gaudi day.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/148/d2e8f09f48e847f5b6033b391a4c39a3/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/148/d2e8f09f48e847f5b6033b391a4c39a3/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />I started at La Sagrada Familia. This building is astonishing. Construction began in 1882 and it's not estimated that it will be finished until 2040! I opted for an audio tour so I could get the full effect.<br /><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/145/c3e6ea0046a146abacf5e3486b17ef37/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/145/c3e6ea0046a146abacf5e3486b17ef37/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Guadi was a devout Catholic, and this was his passion project. The audio tour was filled with little reminders about this. "No matter your beliefs," it would say "This is designed to be a place of contemplation. Take a moment for quiet reflection." And I was like, yeah yeah ... I have one day in Barcelona. Fast Forward.<br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/125/78f8a869ad63404faebf1e4a2ae7984e/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/125/78f8a869ad63404faebf1e4a2ae7984e/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />So I'm minding my own sardonic business, WOWED by the cathedral, but eager to get to my next destination, and then the audio tour took a turn. <br /><br />Music started.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/130/897ef9faf1a2451ca3330d8f95670c11/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/130/897ef9faf1a2451ca3330d8f95670c11/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />And then my audio guide did something unexpected. He launched into the Lords Prayer. He got as far as "Our Father who art" and I burst into tears. It was just one of those moments. You can take the girl out of the religion ..... (I followed up by laughing at myself, and dropping an "F" bomb to cleanse my palate.)<br /><br />There are a bunch more photos in the link at the end.<br /><br />Since it was Guadi day, after the Cathedral, I went to Park Guell.<br /><br />I’m going to do something I never do. I’m going to give you some travel tips.<br /><br />Tip 1 – Traverse the city like the locals do.<br /><br />Bus, walk, train, subway. First, it’s cheap. Second, it’s generally very efficient. Third, it’s fun to watch where the loogies land. (Oh, wait, that was China.) Fourth, you will have a whole lifetime of opportunity to repeat (in bad accents) to your traveling partner “Mind the Gap” and “Flora”.<br /><br />Here’s another reason. As I was changing from one Metro to another, I happened upon a group of young Italian men. About 6 of them, who were clearly celebrating something as evidenced by the pink rubber breasts attached to their asses. There was a accordion busker playing Con Ti Partiro. This group of boys threw their arms around each other, and proceeded to sing along for about half the song. That shit does not happen in a taxi.<br />It may not sound like much in the writing, but it was one of those moments that make a trip memorable. I wish I’d thought to record it.<br /><br />After that, I was ready to get to the Park. Which I hadn’t researched in the least. I planned to get a delightful sandwich, and sit on the grass under a shade tree, and read my Kindle.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/138/df76af8402c84eb6a358c42240d039aa/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/138/df76af8402c84eb6a358c42240d039aa/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Uh, donde esta la hierba?<br /><br />Tip 2 – When going to Park Guell – GO PREPARED<br /><br />Clearly this is not a park in the same way, the <a href="http://thesardonictraveler.blogspot.com/2008/10/beautiful-day-in-der-neighborhood.html">Englisher Gartens</a> were not gardens. Meaning, not to my expectation. That’s OK. I loved Park Guell, but it is a day trip, and one you need to be prepared for.<br /><br />Tip 2a – Bring your own toilet paper. Trust me on this, you don’t want to wipe with the email print out of Metro instructions.<br /><br />Tip 2b – Get into the best shape of your life, and I am talking David Beckham/Madonna/Serena Williams level fitness. Because what you can’t see from the photos, is that Park Guell is less a park, and more a city in the sky. With a lot of stairs.<br /><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/128/e2f6fe7ad48b4965aa8f260307d962e4/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/128/e2f6fe7ad48b4965aa8f260307d962e4/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><br />Ohhh … those three crosses are neat. Too bad they are EIGHT JILLION MILES AWAY ….<br /><br />Tip 2c – Dress appropriately, and please wear comfortable shoes<br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/128/8a053a327ebe4ddfbc92390759101a71/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/128/8a053a327ebe4ddfbc92390759101a71/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Tip 2d – Bring food and water.<br /><br />Yes, they sell it there.<br /><br />I will now show you the most expensive and disgusting piece of bread ever. It was $10.00USD.<br /><br /><a href="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/152/048ec65b84bc474c914f6d2dd1399e59/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/152/048ec65b84bc474c914f6d2dd1399e59/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />(The little piece of Napkin that got stuck to it actually made it taste better)<br /><br />If you forget anything, primarily sunglasses, don’t worry. They sell them there. But not legally.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/146/973f251d0ed3417aa3ffd93fd7d46209/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/146/973f251d0ed3417aa3ffd93fd7d46209/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Minutes before this picture was taken, (it happened so fast I didn’t have time to get out my camera, plus I was holding the most expensive piece of bread in the world at the time and I didn’t want to drop it), we saw about 40 vendors grab their goods and run, to the shouts of “Policia.”<br /><br />Turned out it was a false alarm and they were setting their goods back out in no time.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/122/6382727ccc5644f08d84de8ac706b323/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/122/6382727ccc5644f08d84de8ac706b323/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Here are several shots of the park. I climbed to the house, which I was kind of sorry about because you couldn’t get very close.<br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/131/02d1033f3ee445f3bc0141503bf35f93/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/131/02d1033f3ee445f3bc0141503bf35f93/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/121/d5b3431fdc184d31b43546b66569ecf2/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/121/d5b3431fdc184d31b43546b66569ecf2/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/121/462f5d9b85eb469398d642a3e822ac9c/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/121/462f5d9b85eb469398d642a3e822ac9c/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/122/bbf8ea76610e4630aed277ecc21e064b/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/122/bbf8ea76610e4630aed277ecc21e064b/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />And there it was, in the distance, taunting me …<br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/8d231cb3fe124c8ab003df8fd34d9fa4/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/8d231cb3fe124c8ab003df8fd34d9fa4/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />And I said to myself – my legs are throbbing, I have a paper cut on my hoo hoo, and I have greasy $10.00 bread swirling in my gut. But I don’t know when I’ll be back.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/125/3e66647426a74907951d38a670b6b229/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://a3.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/125/3e66647426a74907951d38a670b6b229/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />VICTORY! Uno cruce, Una Nikki.<br /><br />(I wouldn’t want to travel on my own for any extended period of time, but it is really nice on a day like this when all the decisions were mine and I left behind no regrets.)<br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/145/917f6c77cbda43f9a8476acd2571fce2/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/145/917f6c77cbda43f9a8476acd2571fce2/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />But look over yonder, in the distance …<br />My hotel, calling my name<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/143/bcbc6428cd064ca29d4cefcec71f8ff1/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/143/bcbc6428cd064ca29d4cefcec71f8ff1/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />There’s just one more thing I don’t want to miss. My utter fascination with the power that was ROME lured me to the Roman wall.<br /><br />The fact that there are parts of structures which have been around since before Christ BLOWS my mind! And to find “Rome” in Spain is a win/win for me. <br />So no, the pictures aren’t astonishing or anything … but BC, baby!<br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69e83a9d3500000050O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D720/ry%3D480/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 720px; height: 480px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd69e83a9d3500000050O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D720/ry%3D480/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />(Just a small part of this wall is from 4AD, the rest was sort of built on top of it)<br /><br />And my favorite Roman ruin, from 15BC, which I walked in circles for hours to find, and finally got and understood directions IN SPANISH!<br /><br />The four remaining columns of the Temple of Caesar Augustus<br /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd688f39fdd100000050O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D720/ry%3D480/" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 720px; height: 480px;" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47a1db11b3127ccefd688f39fdd100000050O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D720/ry%3D480/" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/120/a5d65173e2804ba1acfe5db3ea537e4e/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 450px; height: 600px;" src="http://a4.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/120/a5d65173e2804ba1acfe5db3ea537e4e/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"">What it was<o:p></o:p></span></p><a href="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/133/0f6612206772417abd423ede9940bc2e/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/133/0f6612206772417abd423ede9940bc2e/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Speaking of getting directions in Spainsh – my final travel tip … <br /><br />Tip 3 – Try to speak the language. I never try in France, and it’s really a mistake. The Spanish were seemingly delighted by my attempts. Though most conversations went like this. Me: Hablas Engles? Them: A leetle bit Me: yo quero hablar muy malo espanol con tigo y es todo de me espanol, donde esta la biblioteca? Them: Oh, I understand perfectly, you see the library is indigenous to the area. Etc. You get my drift. They speaka da English, but they are SO much nicer when you try a little Espanol. <br /><br />Tip 3a – adding an “O” to the end of a word, doesn’t actually make it a foreign word. i.e. “Dos ticketos for 5:15PM” is actually not Spanish. It’s just embarrassing. <br /><br />Back to my hotel<br /><br /><a href="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/150/20cddf3e7ab7494c86266a4197ef2017/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a2.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/150/20cddf3e7ab7494c86266a4197ef2017/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />And woman on the beach playing topless paddle ball<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/127/d06dd0e04992465794bf22cd85886096/l.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 450px;" src="http://a1.l3-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/127/d06dd0e04992465794bf22cd85886096/l.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /></div><br /><br />The rest of the photos are <a href="http://share.shutterfly.com/share/received/welcome.sfly?fid=bfb9c28958842f7fcf4ab00f16ca9e1e&sid=0AZN2zFw3auGL6w">here</a>Nicole Del Sestohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09050845908098902067noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8798690490602968273.post-20437071896062729282010-11-13T14:01:00.000-08:002010-11-15T10:32:56.385-08:00Shanghai - Toot toot, and Beep BeepI've been to a number of countries. And Dallas. I've seen a lot of scary driving. But NOTHING as scary (or loud) as I saw in Shanghai.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://cosmiclobster.com/jpegs/china05/traffic.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 640px; display: block; height: 480px;" alt="" src="http://cosmiclobster.com/jpegs/china05/traffic.jpg" border="0" /></a>(Fix this image in your mind, and then close your eyes and add honking. Every car, bus and moped. Some short bursts, some staying on the horn. Pointless honking. Incessant honking.)<br /><br /><br /><p>Cars <em>do</em> stop at red lights. Sort of. Motorcycles, bikes and pedestrians (as far as I could tell) never stopped. At one point in my cab ride to the airport, on what I like to call the autobahn, we were going about 175 miles per hour, and missed a moped-like vehicle by (I'm guessing) inches.</p><br /><p>Naturally my cab driver (who spoke zero syllables of English), HONKEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD. I gasped "Oh my god" from the back seat, and the guy broke out laughing. Yeah. Hilarious.<br /></p><br /><p>I will say this about Shanghai - The people are wonderful, helpful and friendly. I "asked" for directions probably 50 times (point to spot on map, and in turn be pointed in my general direction) and everybody was kind. The city is extremely clean; no trash, no cigarette butts, no random puddles of vomit. Cleaners are constantly picking up. The service is the best I've experienced in the world. Everywhere I went. </p><br /><p>But I'm not the super complimentary traveler, I'm the sardonic traveler, so let's get to the good stuff.</p><br /><p>Here's the view from my room:<br /><br /></p><a href="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/120/l_c89ec4c95bea4571a7e5afc39502649c.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/120/l_c89ec4c95bea4571a7e5afc39502649c.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The city is filled with apartment buildings just like these.<br />All with laundry hanging in the windows.<br /><a href="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/71/l_10d9e17dd5fe4e819666d4d8555620f8.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/71/l_10d9e17dd5fe4e819666d4d8555620f8.jpg" border="0" /></a> This was the blue roof block, but the city was filled with various roof color blocks. When I asked the significance of the roof colors I was told "It just for pretty."<br /><a href="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/95/l_8868d94f7a754d8d8692e3580451d6cc.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 420px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/95/l_8868d94f7a754d8d8692e3580451d6cc.jpg" border="0" /></a>Don't adjust your settings. That haze is always over the city. Weather.com said it was fog, but it looked a lot like smog.<br /><br />My room overlooked a school. High school or Jr. High I wasn't sure. But I did catch a couple shots of the student's morning exercise. All in matching outfits.<br /><br /><p><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/145/l_e9ba372a96974171b46bdaa6584723d6.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/145/l_e9ba372a96974171b46bdaa6584723d6.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />and leaving in an organized fashion.<br /><br /><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/130/l_0277a9ce05264f94bc4f321a2870dbb6.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/130/l_0277a9ce05264f94bc4f321a2870dbb6.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Every street name in Shanghai seemed vaguely sexual (my hotel was on Dong Fang Road), and in this case, a bit True Blood-ish.<br /><a href="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/140/l_7ffec343cd17400e874229694fea47a0.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/140/l_7ffec343cd17400e874229694fea47a0.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/140/l_b2fd51d4e2de452e9f0f84d7c489cb63.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/140/l_b2fd51d4e2de452e9f0f84d7c489cb63.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />(I walked around for the next 20 minutes saying, Jingling and Fuxing over and over in my head. Also, yelling at random honkers to "stop it" or "shut up" no-one understood me so I could basically say whatever I wanted.)<br /><br />How about intermission? A potty break? Shanghai ran the gamut. The women's public toilets in Shanghai were ALL like this. (In case it isn't clear, this "bowl" is in the floor.)</p><br /><p><a href="http://c2.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/136/l_26ebb531bbab481c9cf8ba045ce80d79.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c2.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/136/l_26ebb531bbab481c9cf8ba045ce80d79.jpg" border="0" /></a> I didn't try it. I found a Marriott. But how does this work? Do all Chinese women walk around with pee splatters on their shoes? Toilet paper? Nope. Drip dry.</p><p>Conversely - The toilet at the airport offered the following (in addition to the HEATED SEAT!)<br /></p><br /><br /><p><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/147/l_8b99872af0b442168b2df574ef391cf6.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/147/l_8b99872af0b442168b2df574ef391cf6.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />So yeah, you can cleanse your "rear" with some oscillating e-Coli water. For reals? Who would cleanse their rear (or god forbid, their "front") with toilet water? I didn't want to even speculate on what "wand cleaning" was. </p><p>I tried to maximize my sightseeing time, which was very limited. </p><p>I got started early and headed for the Yuyuan Gardens. I've really got to start adjusting my expectations of "garden" visits. Once again, I was expecting flowers, (see also: <a href="http://thesardonictraveler.blogspot.com/2008/10/beautiful-day-in-der-neighborhood.html">Gartens, Englisher</a>)<br /><br /><br /></p><p><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/67/l_037d95dba43644809049f7d8e965bb82.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/67/l_037d95dba43644809049f7d8e965bb82.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I'm thinking maybe this was a rock garden.</p><br /><br /><a href="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/124/l_24de05688e074602b8734ba6155f7cf4.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/124/l_24de05688e074602b8734ba6155f7cf4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/147/l_23a86157f32a4f20915f5af48777373a.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/147/l_23a86157f32a4f20915f5af48777373a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Darn it! I forgot the name of this tree.<br /><a href="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/116/l_55b325971ad74d1e877eeba8afa9d3cc.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/116/l_55b325971ad74d1e877eeba8afa9d3cc.jpg" border="0" /></a> (Ginko Biloba)<br /><div><a href="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/115/l_09e539256fcd45b8b0b2674c1fb7ed73.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/115/l_09e539256fcd45b8b0b2674c1fb7ed73.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/113/l_6fdbafd05f9549a7b3dac2266bb24b2c.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/113/l_6fdbafd05f9549a7b3dac2266bb24b2c.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />After Yuyuan gardens I took a walk along the Bund. </div><br /><br /><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/l_71bb971b121d44d6b70b22924734d3be.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/l_71bb971b121d44d6b70b22924734d3be.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />This part of the Bund actually reminded me a bit of Chicago. (You know, if Chicago had communism)<br /><div><a href="http://c2.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/137/l_d7e9960f32924defab8179905d584d91.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c2.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/137/l_d7e9960f32924defab8179905d584d91.jpg" border="0" /></a> And then I saw this sign. </div><br /><div>Wait. </div><br /><div>What?<br /><div><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/130/l_d63cf1311b254aa6a387407abb82605a.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/130/l_d63cf1311b254aa6a387407abb82605a.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div>Sightseeing Tunnel? Sounds oxymoronic.<br /><div><a href="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/151/l_02a77abf2aca4913965bc6782b0f2de4.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 114px;" alt="" src="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/151/l_02a77abf2aca4913965bc6782b0f2de4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />With absolutely no idea what I was embarking on, I headed downward. Atomsopheric decor along the way.<br /><br /><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/98/l_c96c0894aa214251a5b6116333c67c0e.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/98/l_c96c0894aa214251a5b6116333c67c0e.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>I'm not quite sure about the naming of this conveyance, which was in actuality a little pod that took you UNDER THE RIVER across to the other side of the Bund. (Perhaps the name means it takes you from one sightseeing locale to another.)</div><br /><div>I figured, "when in China" so I videotaped my "sightseeing" journey. Magma and all.</div><br /><div>It's dark and hard to see. At about 1 minute 40 seconds you can see me reflected in the window. It's kind of cool, like the ghosts in Haunted Mansion.</div><br /><object style="width: 640px; height: 390px;"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/80PODBfuS94?version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/80PODBfuS94?version=3" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="640" height="390"></embed></object><br /><br />Once across the river it was like a totally different Shanghai. It was SO QUIET over there I could hardly believe it was the same place. I took a close up shot of the Oriental Pearl TV Tower but opted out of going up to the top. </div><br /><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/137/l_34450b20011c484a9992be551d75b5fe.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/137/l_34450b20011c484a9992be551d75b5fe.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I enjoyed my quiet time for a bit, and headed back under the river and back to the busy side of the Bund where I snapped a quick photo of: Chinese Leader Ken Doll (anatomically correct?)<br /><br /><div><a href="http://c2.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/147/l_f9e24c305fee4354bb6f9bae66a4842d.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c2.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/147/l_f9e24c305fee4354bb6f9bae66a4842d.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Sightseeing isn't really "my thing." I love to get into a place and walk around, but to do the full on "tourist" itinerary isn't what moves me. But I love moments like this. Finding real life in the midst of a foreign place. These are always my favorite photos and memories of a trip.</div><br /><div><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/79/l_0496fa8ec8aa4273a4cf78df708a1f32.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/79/l_0496fa8ec8aa4273a4cf78df708a1f32.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><div>A window into the world ... Probably my favorite shot of the trip.<br /><div><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/114/l_69a7d9e7a57d4584801ac338c461501e.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/114/l_69a7d9e7a57d4584801ac338c461501e.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/118/l_c2e21f9bc63041b98b7d15434311017a.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/118/l_c2e21f9bc63041b98b7d15434311017a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />And THIS guy! I never got any kind of understanding of what was happening here. There was a microphone on the ground, and I guess people randomly decided to sing. (Generally, badly.) It wasn't Karaoke because there wasn't any accompanying music. Just a capella weirdness. This guy was so animated with his hand gestures, knee bending, and his tourist bag!<br /><div><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/143/l_8af20a3541f04bb6a7ec37f89ba63572.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/143/l_8af20a3541f04bb6a7ec37f89ba63572.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>My walk through the city continued down Nanjing Road, one of the busiest shopping streets in the world. Fortunately for me, it didn't seem to be too busy of a day and the crowds weren't overwhelming. Unfortunately for me, I was the only Westerner in view and every 13 seconds I was stopped on the street by the following sentence: 'Lady, you want buy watch? No? Bag?' and they would hold up a fake Louis Vuitton.</div><br /><div>My ultimate destination was the People's Square. And I have to be honest, I was a little disappointed. I wanted it to be iconic like Red Square or Tianamen Square. Instead, it was one of those rare exceptionally quiet spots in Shanghai with flowers, and peace, and children being children. OK, so I wasn't disappointed. I just wasn't what I expected.</div><br /><br /><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/137/l_e19c8af8f10440c982b9f4b477750722.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/137/l_e19c8af8f10440c982b9f4b477750722.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/122/l_b3221a969f6f47b3aef2ff7e893190a7.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/122/l_b3221a969f6f47b3aef2ff7e893190a7.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/l_21907917dbb4462980ed545155b8c28a.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/139/l_21907917dbb4462980ed545155b8c28a.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />I love the below image because of the kids faces, and because I caught so many birds in motion. A moment of childlike wonder frozen for eternity. (OK, I need to say something sarcastic: Stat.)<br /><a href="http://c2.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/138/l_6237429714234e65bc72a8d0f7137dad.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c2.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/138/l_6237429714234e65bc72a8d0f7137dad.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br />At this point, I had been walking for about 5 hours solid. My legs were throbbing, and something I neglected to mention was that it was HOT. I had packed for 50-60 degrees and it was easily 70 and humid and I was in jeans and long sleeves with a polar fleece tied around my waist. Also, I had to pee (see above.) I found the Marriott, answered nature's call, and caught a cab to the Jade Buddha Garden. (the 15NOV fires in Shanghai were in this part of the city)<br /><br />I love the ritual of religions I don't know well enough to ridicule. There were tons of these statues, people paying homage, incense, and Monks having a service which included their singing and banging-a-gong (but not singing Bang-A-Gong.) </div><br /><div><a href="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/112/l_7cae6298667943a6a3e0b8aa80c5d7f7.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/112/l_7cae6298667943a6a3e0b8aa80c5d7f7.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This is happy buddha. I rubbed his belly and made a wish. (Then longed for an antibacterial handwipe which I'd forgotten to bring with me.)<br /><br /><a href="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/152/l_6031e80c1fde40aa9ae30eb2ac52c8ef.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/152/l_6031e80c1fde40aa9ae30eb2ac52c8ef.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div><br /><br /><div>I wish I could have gotten a better shot of this one. There were carvings all the way up to the ceiling.<br /><br /><div><a href="http://c2.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/121/l_bbb19de4e0f548a19678ffba0749e495.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 450px; display: block; height: 600px;" alt="" src="http://c2.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/121/l_bbb19de4e0f548a19678ffba0749e495.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/141/l_5c9bea5676a0418c89d3ee9c4247f858.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/141/l_5c9bea5676a0418c89d3ee9c4247f858.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Unfortunately, I couldn't get a shot of the Jade Buddha. But she was magnificent.<br /><br />The world has become so homogenized. It's hard to find places which are truly unique. There's Costco in Cabo, Wal-Mart in Weifang, The Gap in The Hague, Pizza Hut in Prague. If you want to experience the world, get out there quick before every place loses its individuality. Sure, there are still cultural differences in people. In China, the men are constantly hocking gigantic loogies onto the street. But they are doing it in front of a Starbucks.</div><br /><a href="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/142/l_80c947c3dfd44ab5bbd4858af9f1cd56.jpg"><img style="text-align: center; margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 600px; display: block; height: 450px;" alt="" src="http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/142/l_80c947c3dfd44ab5bbd4858af9f1cd56.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Nicole Del Sestohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09050845908098902067noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8798690490602968273.post-59823921919695571142008-10-15T12:48:00.000-07:002008-10-15T16:05:02.883-07:00A Beautiful Day in Der NeighborhoodWe all know I love Germany. It's lovely.<br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257473247445038802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgopXdXwz3qQFz4s36EIREef2fcxqlt89vRpoq2NSZ1qI_Dgzh5a4hYGIXTH-oFb4KjA5zCHA9spe-hmFzhQ1PDza13ffYx2WEPZ_2wbsVa0tb8W5zJvtcVfkJ06LNZjppEsBWRgjwdaow/s400/Picture+058.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><br />This time I happened to be in town for Oktoberfest. A celebration of beer, traditional garb, weird hats and unique food items.<br /><br />Upon arrival at the hotel, my pillow was adorned with one of these.<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257474138554380370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UG0AhW-j4GiwnwP-wsRDuU_d-ZObh0BzklWjNJUe7UWyww6taP852LWNEQomDwVBvWC5UvGk0qTWzh1_1UlYwGVFDN7i0DLKVX8iSJ4185TUyUw5M44PS6mfyTEHqnnEtj75mTCZ24E/s400/The-Gingerbread-Cookie-Necklace-Shop-0.jpg" border="0" /> </p><p></p><p>I ate it before I realized it was jewelery.</p><br /><p></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257474333846870290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2szXCgCYVzjTPk-22VINm_P8n2BaxPm-2TeILcDHhIaCRc1cMoDfoIsQhB48EXG8dpIROIlsyEZOMCZxFpKTvx-3lUdSc6ATTwLpd140DWynbWghXYlYC3HC_nFEqxv6Vd-eJU5rBfbk/s400/cookie.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p>And generally not intended for consumption.<br /></p><p>I can't say it tasted good, but I had been on an airplane for 12 hours so my judgement was impaired. Besides, I like the crunchy sort of stale tasting frosting.<br /><br />I took the train from <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freising"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Freising</span></a>, purchased a map and was given directions to Oktoberfest in one direction and and the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Englischer</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Garten</span> in the other. I like to walk when I travel - especially after consuming gigantic non-edible cookies - so I started my day with Oktoberfest, and planned to end my day at the "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">garten</span>." </p><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257477026797118594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRTl0SqWLRF7DqxVAqdW_wQKeOKKbGP2HeNeWuOdKdd3R4l1z2j8xfLjpohyz3bI-GW4PTUv2i5nCPZZBuEEVaHJiQrAqFfO8o0ht5iS2gYW9vkIFEDbbpAIN9GFBz97yUw8JtBOe6nmM/s400/map2.JPG" border="0" /><br />I'm not sure what I was expecting of Oktoberfest....<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257481743903544066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEissnK8DvTbQqsmbkVdoNoUxF7RiNAA81xcsl3r9X0Il46JuEc0Nxg250Bci6dkvY1THmaeEEvDQu_LaYqj4fEAZPAkX8rUcjyQ_yfG1Uwu_PV1hn7y9ZGqPsbbw8USARcLdUQ8rv1WoGw/s400/Copy+of+Picture+022.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p></p><p>It was essentially a giant carnival .... </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257482475916751394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJ3y_3DcNzhKHwckFCweopSfkeYX7wbCrnReX2ijQtzC07YAm_oX82UdBkL4-6Mg2JyoAm__Ajs-e4tZTCrdwCME2Qt2GsS_ct-HO-N2G0nw1gcG_XZq1sXgcjiLOPEYp6YmeqZPDqyPk/s400/Copy+of+Picture+024.jpg" border="0" /><br /></p><p>With games<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257482703475422546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIFZAeT-90dLzESZFPOuRJ5VvuHWJ79833qKcAy0akECfwSCbRAMMKeHBczE4LPVNk2-Zw_OrFrWdy6KqxpR8Bm_MbVTFJqx7RL5R7Q5_GQ0hkDePJtOncaFvhUtHIXYNykgDbHvq_wuw/s400/Picture+025.jpg" border="0" />And gigantic food</p><p><br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257481332241990018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRpjvAIjHOOzat5sFkA-3ok5D2BljyUDyY9gcB36Zv0F69IH1pyl1VyaX6Pay6GTbquoCcLP2KUFSyQoNZwPKYszQnnKVJgmbiFwkVolq0spUq2iihTndthAjV64arkPXu1cZqPZDNqew/s400/Picture+026.jpg" border="0" /><br /><a href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/media/47b8ce34b3127ccec50ad772fb4500000040O00AZN2zFw3auGIPbz4C/cC/f%3D0/ps%3D50/r%3D0/rx%3D720/ry%3D480/"></a>And King Mr. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Potatohead</span></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257485548563597346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU8Iv99f2aEexWmxa6uTkQMM-YgmlAZW-sQuXkqIbcGASTTSEzgm1WLKltVUxc0Ot7E41UzpPca9aN4-tXxLyfnlt79Ek_pF45zKs2vXYhiD_YObCxL2TW3hreaagpdFaL_qH2wWvbXr8/s400/Picture+031.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>And the Lowenbrau Lion </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257484575354430578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyP1WRRVPn_x_m5SFXV5g0S2GKdxfr0QhuOcZ3LPbs_hZOvfso1v9xXamhPOWlNCgoNu6OHU0KJBWAkLHO8MkK3bENa37kFgpjjDxfEur4L6ZLP42VeJpahj8tBUbbzj4vcI6FRIrsjtU/s400/Picture+027.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>(He moves, by the way. Lifts the stein to his mouth ... then he cracks a joke. ) {I'm assuming it was a joke, because he said something and all the Germans around me laughed. I didn't get it. He probably said something like, "Check out the American. I bet we can get her to pay 12EURO (about $94.00 US) for an Oktoberfest hat."}</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257490792338947218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRCyZ1s0ob0JPJo082oF8RL9LUkequttSrIZ6ZsjmvDKo_4LWC0FFIbKs14MThghqGuVeThO8usWs60qA88B3pD0xDzbZstkq4QIE9saqnd78vM0GERFj5wzR2g_NQvxiaLouiJ_DRPTE/s400/Picture+057.jpg" border="0" /></p><p> (Self Portrait)<br /><br />And rides</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257485308068045666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRDEmhqxCffL7-d0Hxu0smh3DbRJ_LV7IB9i4ccJmAsnNJGunhBVOU6lYqiFXxk3GhMOCtqWEZyp9MxEHyZnqneUUnLwpuE7gi7vhljg4fAqXZdVM95XHoEru5f22-IcaD893WaKvw368/s400/Picture+030.jpg" border="0" /></p><p><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257487393839054914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOazk9lAA1aEMoA9HjVWiP2HGXACr5V03QROirmygzRZ_JM1vkxFNcOyqh2MRk6aOLkiVT621Ps8njZNrhc8RTTOFB550RRgU8-H0icZaSeRZ4jJp-cGvPRH9scaBBOKIWhKOxrvVqsIU/s400/Picture+033.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>And Bavaria</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257484848701925058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj__QFrIFHa7CVRH4BO6rWkL-vGQn85_EOsDsy5GC6ZsS0SXIBE1bHy-kHajZbb8vkfAHQqalxkzol3VOktZxm5izhqRxO4VRVvbj8SLZNvs0_Bi_gs8EyVIXi-ufXZFQB9J2WPIWeiYJo/s400/Picture+028.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>Isn't she pretty?</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257485062308147378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnQq2qLiIyKE1O6drU4xRqLZ9uae2GEQz0XXpH1YFwyzXcRGsS6qD47BsrwRlw7G8RfYznuISBcLoDOC0_AJrXgvvfTGL8Wr0eIl9fVwZqJlE2JOmJtl3UATH500Exv4uuQ8DfPuTjiFE/s400/Picture+029.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>But alas, I was eager to get to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">gartens</span>. Visions of Cornwall blues and Canterbury pinks were running through my head, and all good things must come an end. Besides, as you know in Bavaria ... One day you are in, and the next<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257487779229524434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQsxk0nCzIwuZqIzizM9aRPB2zLDoUeSAZZXU-2ApjKOUn3kAmgM4DiKBEjgOmwWfXZsdDSncGiZxlF2yWVOrDsedXQEEj5m5q7hYsabZZjjLKx3cMrkKZS7O7ZKEHKdOEhVzY6pkhV_8/s400/klum.jpg" border="0" /></p><p align="center">"You are out." </p><p> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257487638075548962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG5SA6BxGs1cSt8pyr4Pfvwm_GcqHnjqJWYfDwXcgnSlSnVFje6mGqUI-PSEogUaR7ysgLHr_F_v6syQPwMQvTCygJxHKyk2g8Nfa8dSgHFCAwTAr_YhwSxVfZb2yp-U2uHAnUWMu6rDQ/s400/Picture+034.jpg" border="0" /></p><p><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Buh</span> Bye Oktoberfest ... Hello different part of Munich that I can't pronounce or spell, but can point to on the map. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257484214331721362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdaw9YOiC78L_6JSLm9WVV6COX9UnkAD9WmghB-lEsQTle1fBmV10lIkMbtw9aJApoaMj10MyA3CEcnzRQT1jhQCpRhyphenhyphenzyxPkXXiymmYHAt9QtHPviITEp3twkC49MnkNZjbBS1NDT2bo/s400/map5.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>Let's call it Central Munich. Central Munich was pretty.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257488369474991890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfB92XmDof-aKpaFKw2-6j4jwBRb-7KqWGobEOlob-PO6UoCj_P7P7pN3BIkRp0MzqpPIAsSMFHbn0AR3zlReYOSo2VmWCfeH2yoqaiOLG419oqzthYpOWZTmxRNVjNy9SKEkWFwjN854/s400/Picture+036.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>And it had a <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Beate</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Uhse</span>. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257488129889222370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfNsMkub8dQZLo7TWff2pgNhB6FDKKDM3kGFz9q2m2CoCUW8kxMu_1d6Xixd67RNkbu_Q-ZsIF7LSRUtLW9fwqtXNGgluCUihmR_acYNuXoupG5KaTKygKPLTIUxl8keTPkppG2AlsqY/s400/Picture+035.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>You can't really see it, unless you look carefully, but <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">Beate</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Uhse</span> is a porn store. </p><p>How would you <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">pronounce</span> that if you didn't know better?</p><p>I thought it was Beat House, and thus aptly named.</p><p>I was marginally disappointed to learn that it's a person's name - "Bette" somebody. Whatever. It will always be the Beat House to me. </p><p>As I had a whole day to kill, and nothing on the agenda except for the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12">Englischer</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Garten</span>, I decided to pay 2 EURO (approximately $262.00 <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">USD</span>) to go to the top of this thing.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257488575826406434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA7A-Iz_sl4u0-xJdMIVDt3tD7kQnD1lkZ511_Uo0jZkHtjfNc1miflULmLNbvGVlTUDmPDG5TwDfpy-Q4VPywD3Xt8mXjGVktGEq1B_OOjMTI8m0050iykMQPhOgZC4yulWN_cUr6ssI/s400/Picture+037.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>I was up there approximately 12 seconds. (There's nothing to do up there except take a photo.)</p><p> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257489960642733698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_JsAq1NU_EvgE_4ntSJHub5f7oJwCJvfOXgySBdDPUyKLEcVsYX-92ZCyboq9-WGgdlecCK0wZJeOKeUAPLSQGvIOR12jCOUn-zN2n1Swrq-rBFBOYiwsyGmDhSEnvYYQEx_H9ctG7Y4/s400/Picture+040.jpg" border="0" /><br />I signed the guest book just to make sure I got my money's worth.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257490222159928818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVONT8wgDInGxR-8y0fjeMcwaonox0Sc9qjCeTWMG1hf5ef83Qt54TpXyczbtQyQkcZGiVhewuSStI8dno9NhlVsd0cxznHBJq7_y66-2JenHGEbKaLJOmE50e4n9thbMvgOL4Zna1YXY/s400/Picture+042.jpg" border="0" /></p><p><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">OOoohhh</span> ... <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Ahhhh</span> ..... Lovely - Get me to the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">Gartens</span>. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257489169724248722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7ieI3pboacpzDDUa6Yx6kA4sPdFMEYxSFI_ZuK8VfdrSF2mwwlRcxdXwRVCMZmklmlkn61yIDvAk6pyKfbdEYUuGgsP7n4ZVvMR_8gjtLs1iTq9w8s8UpFJz-2qKKTXUbyMWfNK-PmQ/s400/Picture+038.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>I arrived at the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Gartens</span> about 3 hours after arriving in Munich, during which time I had been walking the whole time. </p><p>The relaxing picturesque <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">gartens</span> were the perfect way to end my day.</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3U9A8AcnV8KKTr3IZWMXiXKS78UQ2DBTNCt91NH71pKFBO24pkZtgac1uSeqqvATmHsI4Qq6MpYo0G5nNI4r404VRd8d8BPT9icTJmoMmZEk1hDHzf0HPru-6gYWz4IkvjFmHfBHaALw/s1600-h/Picture+044.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257490609076358402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3U9A8AcnV8KKTr3IZWMXiXKS78UQ2DBTNCt91NH71pKFBO24pkZtgac1uSeqqvATmHsI4Qq6MpYo0G5nNI4r404VRd8d8BPT9icTJmoMmZEk1hDHzf0HPru-6gYWz4IkvjFmHfBHaALw/s400/Picture+044.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Ahhh</span> ... Children climbing trees. How nostalgic. </p><p>But alas - I'm off to see the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Gartens</span>, and besides, their parents might think it's creepy that I'm standing here snapping photos of them. They might put Dexter Morgan on to me. </p><p>I walk ... and I see a river, which looks more like a drain. And <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">incongruously</span> ... </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257491595716561954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbRe8yu_SciKCsE_x4sIGkcd2EdAzG770_Fj_06ZyITfh9DgfSoR8bjYBYg8WlRXK3ryhR8TihRegSWp9BRojyDioAYUX48Hbn3BWIt58OTZ_foPC780pMB1NtrWmcD9N4DZwI24H2GdQ/s400/Picture+046.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>I see a surfer, waiting to catch a wave.</p><p> </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257492086170051346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD1Fw68VpwvyeD6utxP8S6LjmM7qGe7SRPs6cFExM3bOb20VNwdHgCvkq7n64xdsGd8M5iJdcZPBTaQ49CWrR2-40JaAN91z2AvZGfcrFoQ4azM6VAezQTIUEnkaK1VlUn0Qz45S44JSs/s400/Picture+050.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>Which he does. </p><p>But I still don't see any flowers, though I discover that water sports are big here on the North end of Munich in 50 degree weather</p><p> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257492452900768466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzZWb8DALttMTlg3hS1vwzGsehLu_RHRLoMHNyc62AmY3ZwJ4Y_gBThcInV6-nV416LVsi4fiN0MGVH9B-O7D88y_3h8XQ3LsL5-sonN942biDLahX_sz8cDCPH2HyWTs13FRXQI9N9nM/s400/Picture+052.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>Whether verboten or not</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257491802652717666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrDbgBYr-TgphNNSxcLiOBgBq-FtzW-twr7ALTzhK2D6OmEYQEC_Lg8Qu98Vz9fuVZRtrnQK15s10vh-gd4-tSdz5sfkpKJnQaFPt7hgFGmzndJooalGy__m4lRXTLr_0vaBwOp6nc3_c/s400/Picture+047.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>(Doesn't verboten seem so much more strict than plain old forbidden?)</p><p>I walk more and more ... And everything is very .... <em>green</em>. I'm starting to wonder if they are named the English Gardens because they are the size of England? And I'm still wondering if there are any <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23">freakin</span>' flowers in this garden. </p><p><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257491007401012754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtdyiZwSbnrTjx_Ki2iNYZsayyjjw8dCHrueYr_MuVokC99UDYiq7aYP5O3mpgzDg5Qb5RkbLt_LoN60X2lYEznnj3UjIGmHTKgeqZWqwf2s5BwDzsEHzEywwV9lJIZd6sMSmwTQboj0o/s400/Picture+045.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>Where are my Cornwall Blues and Canterbury Pinks? </p><p>More importantly ... WHERE AM I?</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257482895363436562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8mClmw2-vK9NsnrZsGwDj3MXpAD08JVDud59PuVJjuAtbal996q99IaTZ4c6uq_hm_omn3ZHp_hCZlZ__ozDhfkQHNnqToZhCmPGzT9PhGKBdV6kR82-Zlfeb6yIfQEqFD716CDvHLrc/s400/map3.JPG" border="0" /></p><p>Lost. Off the map lost. (At least that's what the lady at the Hilton told me when I asked her to point to where I was when I stopped there to pee.) </p><p>But I have in fact confirmed that I am in the English Gardens, and not in fact in Narnia as I had come to fear. Especially since I felt like I was being watched the whole time.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257492272039163490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYplZLcN70jHold-j-p9EaYAZ0w0C72AGDdh90ZVT2zw6Yr1sxJjnbU-OnP2rmrIwx0lxGG2darvNrDzR1auhqYwUG2Cz4pYmqdNdizOoqOMXhJSriU7kM3S1iV03Hbo6ccCXmEg9SpNY/s400/Picture+051.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>Assured that I had found and seen my destination, as misnomered as it might have been, I decided to head back to <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24">Freising</span>. I'd been walking for 4 hours and I was pooped! </p><p>Goodbye <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25">Englischer</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26">Garten</span>.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257492651678136306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic24OabKAKHGtS-zatgMmOhBIfirlxWRuBZrihSWXv2pNycDsOr9ic_MHjC_nqQsE5qtVVGHprCqPTDRxUGh7E9fIBUjVocD2J-8ulDsJgrN0Nf8ih7GWxfRPkMH31Y6OcwpnJD-J-mFs/s400/Picture+054.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>90 minutes and 5 "ask for directions" later, I had to stop for a rest and some <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27">sustenance</span>. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257492828371708706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL-6M9MQ8jnbWxuEzJsjSlspVrNInE_kBeqLUyKSYk-4aQCsALbRnUJe5YU4QqjgEn20AMAXb7KMll13l74PW2RHRWZrEh7hSti0tXrKuvu-ibUI8_iBBtTV8d2xu_zPBdMbsxYU27_HE/s400/Picture+055.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>So I got a pretzel the size of the new BMW 1 series.</p><p>And kept trudging ... </p><p>And I trudged past the artists rendering of the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28">Rezidenz</span> Museum. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257493018743205602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdqcc1Pojg0GvFy3dNDfsDKBj9xGmhiG-r76LE-pPg6jYrOajaZE6mAGMDHagaYsZTtAv6LA_JeOZa-17B8_kmqqCGOrk49MbfWNwVmdz8UGADv0iIws09WJR1uuWn8vZWAAcIWCbm8-4/s400/Picture+056.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>Which looks a lot more realistic in this photo than it did in person.</p><p>And I trudged until I found a train station. It was the wrong one, but it worked. And finally, after 6 hours of walking, I sat down.</p><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2iZese9OgDgMuhLcpl6-bKRwk4hmP_xGiB2EGOF7J6LiLfyS7Bbfic5paqFm6QKBmWGfckHew778uBlplSHuWGh8ERNYq6GDn28w1f4DYxSde9Oacg5EJBBeGvysrazByHOuBx_P78ho/s1600-h/map4.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257483546665123378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2iZese9OgDgMuhLcpl6-bKRwk4hmP_xGiB2EGOF7J6LiLfyS7Bbfic5paqFm6QKBmWGfckHew778uBlplSHuWGh8ERNYq6GDn28w1f4DYxSde9Oacg5EJBBeGvysrazByHOuBx_P78ho/s400/map4.JPG" border="0" /></a>And drew my route map.</p><p>When I got back to my hotel that night the first thing (after looking for a second cookie necklace, which they hadn't left me) was Google the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Englischer_Garten"><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29">Englischer</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30">Garten</span>.</a></p><p>Turns out it's not a misnomer. I just don't know what an English Garden is. Had I known, my day would have ended 3 hours earlier. </p><p>"The name refers to the style of gardening; the term <a title="English garden" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_garden">English garden</a> is used outside of the English speaking world to refer to the style of informal <a class="mw-redirect" title="Landscape gardening" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Landscape_gardening">landscape gardening</a> which was popular in the <a title="United Kingdom" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/United_Kingdom">United Kingdom</a> from the mid 18<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31">th</span> century to the early 19<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32">th</span> century."</p><p>Yeah, informal landscape gardening: NOT what I had in mind.</p><p>But I did learn these statistics:</p><p>Total length of paths and walkways: roughly 75 km (26 km roads, 36 km footpaths, 13 km <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33">bridlepaths</span>)<br />Length of streams: 8.5 km<br />Bridges: over 100 </p><p>Which made me feel a lot better about how lost I got! </p><p>Until next time, I remain ... </p><p>The Sardonic Traveler</p>Nicole Del Sestohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09050845908098902067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8798690490602968273.post-17032951983910262362008-08-23T16:37:00.000-07:002009-06-20T08:29:01.382-07:00Kuala Lumpur: She has a really good personality.I hate to say this, because Kuala Lumpur is lovely in many ways, but it isn't pretty. It's kind of Tijuanaesque, in fact.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a0ec67900000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a0ec67900000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The skies are gray (owing to either an impending torrential downpour, or the smoke from forest fires in Borneo, I was never quite sure, but you kind of have to be entranced by a place whose smoke comes from Borneo), and while there are lush landscapes and beautiful modern buildings (such as the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Petronas_Twin_Towers">Petronas Towers</a>),<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a04c67300000106100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a04c67300000106100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br /><br />just around the corner will be a burned out building that has been sitting there rotting for decades. (And I'm sorry - but I didn't really get a lot of shots of the ugly parts, so you'll have to take my word for it.)<br /><br />No, KL couldn't be called pretty ..... But the people are warm, hospitable and multi-cultural. More so than any place I've ever been.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a03474400000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a03474400000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br />(These women looked exactly the same from the front.)<br /><br />To me they were like ghosts wandering the streets. Holding hands with their husbands, or shopping at the Chanel cosmetics counter. (I guess when the only thing that shows is your eyelashes, you're willing to spend a bit more on Mascara.)<br /><br />Everywhere you went there were extremes. Abayah clad Middle Eastern women intermingled with Japanese youths in mini-skirts, and Western women in tanks and short shorts.<br /><br />The food was as diverse as the people.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a01474600000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a01474600000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br />And with the exception of this "Sausage and Vegetable" thing, was quite appealing. Malay food is much like Thai. But they also had a lot of Chinese and Indian, which I love. Plus, everything had coconut. I wallowed in a carb, peanut butter and dairy frenzy, all of which I've forsaken on American soil. (But seriously, could I pass up Peanut Butter broth for dessert? No.)<br /><br />One stand at the mall sold "Pizza, Lasagna, Shepard's Pie, and Waffles." Because, you know, nothing says dessert after Pizza like a Waffle.<br /><br />My "free" day in Malaysia I woke at 4:00AM, so I got an early start. This is the Petronas Towers at dawn.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a0ac67d00000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a0ac67d00000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br />I went to Batu Caves which is basically an ancient limestone cave which is home to the World's Largest Murugan (never heard of him before this) and Hindu temple.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a0b474c00000096100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a0b474c00000096100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br />I have to tell you, this thing is spectacular. The photo doesn't do it justice. There was something really powerful about it when standing there in front of it. I guess I can't always be sardonic, because I was moved by my whole experience here.<br /><br />I climbed the steps.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a09474e00000096100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548a09474e00000096100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br /><br />A lot of them<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548af6c68100000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548af6c68100000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And saw some very cool things<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548af147b600000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548af147b600000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548af547b200000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548af547b200000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548af4c68300000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548af4c68300000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br />This picture gives a great perspective of KL. Natural beauty and a beautiful structure, surrounded by the gray skies and ugly buildings.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548afcc68b00000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548afcc68b00000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br />This one reminds me of my sister.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548afac68d00000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548afac68d00000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br />After the main cave, I happened upon another temple. (After I was chased by a big scary dog.) (OK, I wasn't chased, it ran up to me and wagged its tail.) (And it was the size of a chihuahua, but I was still scared. It totally could have been feral.)<br /><br />It was 8:00AM and apparently time for a morning ceremony. Which for the first 15 minutes was nothing but a drum and some kind of blowy instrument. I stood back, trying to be discreet as I waited for something to happen, not wanting to intrude, but not wanting to miss a once in a lifetime experience.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548ae4c69300000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548ae4c69300000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br />I snuck a quick photo and and stepped further back, and almost ran into this guy.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548ae747a000000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548ae747a000000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br />There were monkeys everywhere! I guess I was lucky he didn't grab my camera, because I later heard stories about Monkey's taking things right out of people's hands.<br /><br />Is that a Pineapple in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548ae2c69500000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548ae2c69500000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br />Anybody who's seen my ass knows I love butterflies, so after the Caves, I hit the Butterfly Park.<br /><br />And here's what I learned ....<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548aed47aa00000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548aed47aa00000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Live butterflies scare the shit out of me. (See above: Chihuahua ) Every time one got anywhere near me, I jumped, quiet screamed and then laughed at myself. Which probably made my fellow tourists a bit discomfited.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548aeb47ac00000116100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548aeb47ac00000116100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a>My fellow tourists. Abayah courtesy of Islamic oppression, shoes by Nike.<br /><br /><br />And now, a Public Service Announcement:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548ad5479200000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548ad5479200000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a><br />SERIOUSLY. No raping. No raping PERIOD. But, if you have to rape, please, rape the wall, not the children.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548ad3479400000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548ad3479400000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a>The Petronas Towers at night.<br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548ad1479600000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA"><img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://im1.shutterfly.com/procgtaserv/47b8d602b3127cce98548ad1479600000086100AZN2zFw3auGOA" border="0" /></a>In closing, I felt it important to explain Malaysia butt washing. There is no "bidet" in Malaysia. Toilets come equipped with a hose which I assume shoots water and washes your butt. Public restrooms in Malaysia have these hoses, many of them in lieu of toilet paper, so always travel with tissues. Also, don't be alarmed by the soaking wet floors. It's very likely just the water from a recently used butt washer.<br /><br />I was unable to determine how a recently washed butt dries.<br /><br />The complete photo album can be seen <span style="TEXT-DECORATION: underline"></span><a href="http://sardonictraveler.shutterfly.com/">here</a> (I know, but there really are more, and some of them are really cool.) Hit "view all pictures" and watch in Slide Show mode for your best enjoyment.Nicole Del Sestohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09050845908098902067noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8798690490602968273.post-41920861233392478752008-07-06T09:07:00.000-07:002008-07-07T21:05:40.192-07:00Fluggeschwindekiet<p>So, I'm in Nuremberg and I call down to the front desk and say "Fluggeschwindekiet" and the front desk person says, "what?" and I say, "just kidding" and then laugh my ass off to nothing but silence on the other end. (Ok, I made that part up.)</p><p>I really said, 'can you please send an iron to my room?' And the lady says, 'I'm sorry we aren't allowed to to that, but we have an ironing room.' so I said, 'where's that?' and she said, 'room 611.' </p><p>So I push the lottery-like elevator button and hope for six, and sure enough ... </p><p><img src="http://a68.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/17/l_2b57528624909d2439d1b2a6d7248da3.jpg" /><br /></p><p>(I've travelled a lot, and that is the first I've heard of an ironing room)</p><p>Yeah, so - Like many proud Americans, I drive a spectacular German car. Who can resist the legendary German engineering? </p><p>Apparently, the elevator people ... </p><p><img src="http://a900.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/103/l_b3ba442fc7570512da0513ccbb45b1e3.jpg" /></p><p>This was the elevator button on every floor. No up, no down. You just pushed THE button and hoped that you were going to the correct floor. It was rare. So you'd get into the elevator at the lobby and then you'd go down to the parking lot, and then the elevator would land back at the lobby (full, by the way) and more people would get in, and then we'd go up. It was very bizarre.</p><p>Nuremburg's famous ... Sex in der City</p><p><img src="http://a58.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/41/l_80628a255fb688dbc3052940222a0459.jpg" /></p><p>And some glamor shots</p><p><img src="http://a136.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/13/l_768ea8e8fe8905945c140c0523466957.jpg" /><a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vYTEzNi5hYy1pbWFnZXMubXlzcGFjZWNkbi5jb20vaW1hZ2VzMDEvMTMvbF83NjhlYThlOGZlODkwNTk0NWMxNDBjMDUyMzQ2Njk1Ny5qcGc="></a></p><p><img src="http://a892.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/69/l_d504b2ae89c1b5ea3e9f737ff2912ddb.jpg" /></p><p><img src="http://a514.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images01/122/l_65d22f75d5d0dabd05efbb09b48f88b9.jpg" /><a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vYTUxNC5hYy1pbWFnZXMubXlzcGFjZWNkbi5jb20vaW1hZ2VzMDEvMTIyL2xfNjVkMjJmNzVkNWQwZGFiZDA1ZWZiYjA5YjQ4Zjg4YjkuanBn"></a></p>Nicole Del Sestohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09050845908098902067noreply@blogger.com1