The Greek Isles

For the past few years, Matt and I have made a tradition of visiting the Mediterranean in September. We love the Mediterranean coast – the weather, the culture, the food – and September is the perfect time of year to enjoy its fruits as the crowds begin to thin out, the high-season prices start dropping, and the weather cools a bit to a manageably glorious temperature. I may have just revealed too much…Anyway, after doing Begur, Spain in September 2007 and the Algarve in Portugal in September 2008, we made the Greek Isles our home from September 5 to 13, 2009.

There are dozens of islands off the coast of Greece – varied and wonderful in unique ways. To make it easy on ourselves since we only had one week, we chose to stay in the Cyclades region. After months of consideration and very minimal research, we chose to visit Naxos and Santorini.

We flew direct from Amsterdam to Athens mid-morning on Saturday, and arrived around lunchtime. With plenty of time before our chosen ferry departed to Naxos from the Piraeus port, we decided to be all local and take the metro there. As we sat in the metro trying to figure out if we were on the right one, a Greek/Canadian man befriended us and took us under his wing. All we had to do was get off when he did and he’d point the way. Well, turns out that this man was not all too familiar with the new train system (presumably put in place for the 2004 Summer Olympics), and took us on crazy route that , after 3 metros and one bus, saw us sprinting to reach our boat a few minutes before it left the port.

Having just made it, we crashed in our seats for the first hour and a half of the trip, but then ventured to the outside deck to catch the sunset. We reached our destination, Naxos port, in three hours, and amid all the Greek tourists spotted our hotel car. We stayed at the Hotel Naxos Kalimera (“kalimera” means good morning in Greek) on Agia Ana beach – a clean, homey place with a firecracker of a proprietor. She was definitely the highlight of this hotel, offering rides to the beach (only a 10 minute walk) and into Naxos town whenever we wanted, and you heard her laugh before you saw her, since she always had her friends coming by for a chin-wag. She chauffeured us off to “her” restaurant, where we had the first of many abundant meals and glasses of Jesus wine (so dubbed by me because it is what I imagine red wine must have tasted like in the times of Jesus – watery and a bit tasteless). We had arrived in Greece, and this pleased us.


Our days in Naxos were marked by lolling around on the beach all day, lunching on crisp fried calamari (highly recommend La Trattoria on Prokopios beach), watching the sunset over chilled cocktails, and having incredible dinners. Our third day was windy and cold, so we skipped the beach in favor of renting an ATV. Matt drove, and I hung on the back for dear life as we bumped along on the dirt roads around the island. It was so much fun and the scary parts (like the near vertical inclines) only made it better in retrospect. Our reward was reaching a whimsical little town at lunchtime that was high on Matt’s legitimacy scale.
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On the fourth day, we took the morning ferry to Santorini. The trip was only about an hour and a half, and the weather had improved from the day before to a mild, sunshiney morn. We arrived at the port to a frenzy of people touting hotels and rides. This ferry ride was also distinct in its number of foreign tourists – and they were all getting off at Santorini. Luckily, we had booked a hotel in Oía, which is on the north part of the island, tucked away far from the touristy mayhem. Our hired cabbie took erratic turns, passing tour buses on our way up the mountain, and about 20 minutes later, a bit woozy, we arrived at the Perivolas Traditional Houses. This place was a total splurge and worth every penny. Like many of the traditional houses in Oía, the hotel was carved onto the sunny south side of the cliff, offering picturesque views of the sunset over the caldera, and the rooms resemble caves that stay cool in the heat. It was pure luxury here. We rested our weary travel muscles (not really) in the sun by the infinity pool, reading and snoozing and, of course, eating. Dinners were had in the town, which was a short walk away and as enchanted a place as you could expect.



Though it was hard to leave the supreme comfort of our hotel, we did manage to get out and about during the days. Our second day we walked to one of the beaches in Oía, about a 45 to 60 minute walk from the town. All of the beaches in Santorini are black sand. Another day we did a catamaran tour around the caldera, and visited the red and white beaches – the sand at these beaches are still black, but the cliffs enveloping the beach (you can only get to the red beach by boat) are red and white. We also swam out to the hot springs, which were more like warm springs. They really should find a way for your boat to pick you up directly from the springs – having to swim back from the warm to frigid water was very unappetizing!


Our last night we walked down the steps from Oía to the Bay of Ammoudi, a little fishing village with a great restaurant. We toasted our fabulous trip with copious amounts of lobster and wine.

I’d say that for those wishing to visit the Greek Isles, doing both Naxos and Santorini is a good, well-rounded choice. If I may use a doll analogy here, if Santorini is Barbie – beautiful and remarkable, though maybe a bit cold and, dare I say, arrogant – then Naxos is Strawberry Shortcake – charming, inviting and sweet. Both offer the visitor different aspects of Greek culture, and both are not to be missed. This trip will definitely go down as one our favorites!

Madrid

In a preemptory celebration of our one year wedding anniversary Matt and I ventured off to Madrid for the weekend. We had decided to make Madrid our destination of choice as,though I've never been there, it seemed like a place I would like. Matt had visited it as a student while studying abroad in Florence, and had dubbed the Prado as one of his favorite museums ever. Coincidentally, the weekend before our actual anniversary, Matt had a business trip that would take him to Paris and then on to Madrid for the end of the week. It seemed silly for him to fly back just to fly out there again a week later, so instead I booked tickets to out there to meet him, and we would spend the weekend there.

I arrived pretty late on Thursday night, leaving frantically to the airport straight from work. It should be noted that whilst at the airport, Dutch people cut me in line on 2 separate occassions. Boarding was on time, but we were delayed - we apparently sat on the tarmac for a long time, but as per my usual MO on flights, I completely conked out as soon as the airplane doors shut. I tend to do this, then wake up a few minutes after we've reached our altitude, and spend the entire rest of the flight trying to sleep and not being able to. But I digress.

When I finally arrived at our hotel, Hotel De Las Letras on Gran Vía, just before 11, Matt was still out boozing and shmoozing at dinner with work people so I got room service and watched one of my favorite Buffy the Vampire slayer episodes dubbed in Español until he arrived, rather hammered, convincing me out of my pj's and onto the rooftop terrace to meet his buds. As he was talking to me, he lost his voice - it didn't come back all weekend. I played dutiful wife and got some heels on and was my charming self - the rooftop terrace at De Las Letras was indeed a happening place, and the guys (who are basically his competitors and were all on the same property tour) were very nice and we had a particularly boisterous debate about what is actually stated in the American Bill of Rights. When Matt’s eyes started crossing – and he still didn’t have his voice – we wisely called it a night. On Friday Matt had more tours to do, so I had some one-on-one with the city – I walked around with my giant map (Madrid is big), had some café at Plaza Mayor, bought a fedora and some macadamia nuts, spent leisurely hours at the Reina Sofia museum, ate a chorizo sammy and headed back to the hotel to await the hubby and chat with mom on the phone. I was officially smitten – the city is spectacular. That night we had a typically Spanish late dinner and stopped at one of the indoor markets, Mercado San Miguel off the Plaza Mayro, for churros and chocolate for dessert.



On Saturday we hit the pavement, exploring that great city. It was another gorgeous day, so we took to the park – El Parque del Buen Retiro – for a leisurely stroll and a coffee. Eventually we meandered over to a neighborhood called Salamanca – a colleague of mine has a friend that lives in Madrid, and this guy recommended a place in this neighborhood that he and all his friends agree is THE best tapas place in all of Madrid. We decided to give it a shot, and it’s probably safe to say that he is most likely right in this assumption. We arrived at 1:30, which was perfect timing because we were able to grab the second to last table before it was jam-packed with poshly dressed Spaniards looking for a beer and a bite. We overdid it a bit (as usual) with our order, but the fried anchovies were spectacular, and the waiters were totally on top of that chaos.




We headed back to the hotel with a bit of time for a brief siesta before meeting Gavin, one of the guys Matt did the property tour with, and his girlfriend who were also spending the weekend. We had decided on Thursday night to all go to the Real Madrid game. Unfortunately by that point there were no 4 seats together so we had to split up. We took the metro over to the stadium (the Madrid metro is awesome – so convenient, clean and easy!) then had the confusing task of figuring out where to pick up our tickets. Of course all eyes were on me since I speak un poco Español – eventually we worked it out. The game was awesome – Madrid was playing Tenerife, and Tenerife actually gave Madrid a run for their money in the first half. But Kaká came in the second half (to my great cheery glee) and Madrid ended up beating them 3-0. The stadium was absolutely packed. And strangely enough, there aren’t too many occasions to buy, buy, buy – as there are in the American stadiums. You’re hard pressed to even find a soda vendor inside the stadium. Some people brought their own snacks and drinks, but mostly it seemed like people just pop in for the game then head out for dinner. Soccer games are great because they are short enough that it’s not such a big commitment to attend one.

Saturday night we found a little spot looking out on a palace to have dinner. Madrid is a very picturesque city, with beautiful, majestic architecture and a lot of greenery. Sometimes it’s easy to forget how Spain once ruled the Western world, but being in Madrid you definitely get a sense of the grandeur.


On Sunday we hit up the Prado – which of course took up most of the morning. There are some great pieces in there, and conveniently enough they provide a brochure with their most famous works and which room it’s in, so we were able to just zip in and out and see the best things. It was again beautiful and warm out, so it was hard getting in that cab to drive to the airport in the early afternoon. A short flight later, we were at home, watching the Giants game.


Madrid is now on my list of top 5 cities in the world – in fact, it has replaced Paris for my number 3 spot. Though both cities are equally beautiful, Madrid just has this openness that Paris is lacking. In Paris I feel a bit like an outsider – sometimes I think that the Parisians do that on purpose. Maybe it is a factor that I understand the language, so it is easier for me in Madrid. Whatever it is, there is now a very real love affair between me and Madrid. It is definitely a place we will visit again.

Matt's Birthday Extravaganza

This August past, in celebration of Matt's 29th birthday I arranged for the two of us and 15 friends to terrorize Amsterdam for 3 hours on a sunny Saturday aboard the famed spectacle, the party-fiets (www.partyfiets.nl). The party-fiets (FYI: fiets is the word for bicycle in Dutch)is a Holland oddity - I don't think there are any other places in the world that offer this kind of fun. It is basically a traveling bar, seating up to 20 people, with 12 of these seats being stools with bike pedals attached at the bottom, around a bar stocked with (at least) 30 liters of Heineken. The whole contraption is steered by a "bob" (designated driver) at the front, but the horsepower comes from the pedaling fools.

And before I continue, allow me to pat myself on the back for arranging a time where 17 busy expats could attend, convincing them all to dress as pirates, and keeping this whole thing a secret from Matt for two whole months. Yes, you read right - we did this dressed as pirates.

Up until the moment of the big reveal, Matt thought I was taking him to the zoo for the day. You would think my skull and crossbones T-shirt may have raised a red flag, but it didn't. Further to that, you would think that upon arriving at the bar beforehand at 11:30 in the morning ("For a drink." "A drink??" "Yeah...a coffee or whatever...") and seeing 4 of our friends already there and wearing pirate hats, that he would think something was up. He was happy enough to drink a beer while we let the suspense linger for a bit, then finally we broke the news. This was especially momentous because Matt has been wanting in on this beer-bike for as long as we've been in Amsterdam. This past summer, being a particularly warm and sunny one for these parts, there were lots of these things roaming the city, and it pained Matt everytime he saw one - our friends dutifully said "That's lame" even after our plans to do it were underway. He hadn't a clue.


Needless to say - I mean, we're talking beer and pirates here - it was one of the most fun days I have had in my adult life. I can't even say "adult" because we acted like kids. Brandishing our swords, wearing eyepatches, drinking beer while furiously pedaling up the Amsterdam canals, shouting "LAND LOVERS!" in a pirate voice at passers-by, and basically trying to top each other in creativity and basic retardation. Everyone had the time of their lives. People on the streets were snapping pictures. Probably the most memorable moment was when we rolled our carnage down the P.C. Hoofstraat, the fancy high street in Amsterdam. All the yuppies dressed up in their finest garb to peruse Chanel and Ferragamo stopped in their tracks and stared, mouths agape.


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We ended the day at a bar with bottles of Prosecco, and with Matt drunkenly taking a dip in the Ij river. Insane fun. The next day I hosted a dinner party for 6 in further celebration of Matt's birthday and my good friend Jen's birthday, where we had more laughs while recapping the day. The current plan is to do this again, dressed as cowboys, and while singing kareoke (if you can imagine, there is a kareoke-fiets). Stay tuned...

Cinque Terre

My great friend Jen - who will soon be leaving me to head off on a new adventure in Canada - and I recently headed off for a weekend in Cinque Terre seeking sun, wine and laughs. We found all of these, in abundance.

Cinque Terre is a coastal region on the Italian Riviera. Its name translates into "Five Lands" and consists of the villages of Riomaggiore, Manarola, Corniglia, Vernazza and Monterosso. Cinque Terre is a UNESCO World Heritage. We picked to stay in Riomaggiore, following the advice of friends.

To get there, we flew into Pisa, then took a somewhat convoluted train route from the airport to Pisa Central, then to Spezia Station, which links the local Cinque Terre trains to the main line. We left Amsterdam at lunchtime on Friday, and were sweating it out in our little sundresses and drinking Prosecco by 7 pm.

Being that it was July, we were expecting to be swarmed by tourists and were pleasantly surprised to find the towns relatively quiet. There were tourists, of course, mainly from the U.S. and Australia and also lots of Italian tourists, with a dryheave-inducing spattering of Dutch (though to be fair, the one Dutch couple we actually had an interaction with, albeit brief, was quite pleasant and polite).

The weather was hot, hot, hot and we loved every second of it. Except when we found ourselves hiking across 4 villages, in our flip flops and bikinis - then were sweating profusely and had to disrobe slightly. We were unprepared for how difficult the hike would get. It wouldn't be exactly difficult if you were expecting to hike - and some were, given the many hiking boots, spandex shorts and walking sticks we saw - but again, bikinis and flip flops do not a proper hiking outfit make. We were expecting a leisurely stroll, with stops for wine and dips in the sea. This was pretty much the case until we reached Corniglia. From that point, things got steep, and dusty and tiring and sweaty. Oh, and did I mention I got stung by a bee? Luckily we had many laughs to keep us going! When we finally reached Vernazza, we treated ourselves to leisurely lunch on a seaside terrace, then spread our towells out on the rocks for some serious people-watching (and judging).

The towns were all quite similar - small, with a few seaside-type shops and wonderfully authentic Italian trattorias. I would certainly recommend a stop if doing a southern Italy trip - but anything much more than a weekend here might be excessive. The vistas were wonderful, and the accomodations very basic (mostly apartments). Vernazza and Monterosso were pretty clearly the most touristy of the towns, more built up and with more options of places to stay and eat. We were happy with our choice of Riomaggiore.

We capped off the trip with a stop at Pisa old town on our way to the airport. Somehow I was more impressed with the tower the second time around - the first time it didn't look to be as lean-y. I think it really depends on the angle you see it at. It is pretty ridiculous that the tower is still standing, but even more ridiculous were the tourists around the tower taking photos of themselves that made it look like they were holding up the tower - so we took photos of them instead.

Mama Mia!

Last month Matt and I traveled back home to the US to attend the wedding of our lovely friend Mia. Mia owns a bridesmaid boutique in Baltimore, so she is front-center in this whole wedding business. And her wedding was the glorious affair we all expected it to be! She looked stunning in her gown, and never have I seen a more smiley bride. We wish her and Christian a great future together, full of joy and warmth and love =)



Aside from the Isse-Antalics nuptials, our trip home was filled with visits with friends and family, nonstop eating (true to form, we didn't get the chance to feel hunger during the entire trip) and lots of laughs. From Baltimore to New Jersey to New York to the Hamptons, we enjoyed every minute of it. Thanks to everyone that helped make our homecoming feel like just that!

Bedutched

This morning during my cycle in to work, I got shoved by a grown (Dutch) man. Not a drunk, homeless man. A professional man, in a suit, carrying a briefcase, on his way to work. He was a pedestrian. I was on my bike. I had a green light, but he insisted that he was more important than me, and that he was entitled to cross the bike path and cut me off. I had to stop, lest I hit him, which would not be the first time. He stood right beside me on my bike, leaning his junk against my elbow, trying to intimidate me. Then when I went to pedal again, because clearly this altercation wasn't going anywhere, and I had places to be, he shoved me aside and walked in front of me. Nice.

Just a few days before this, at the North Sea Jazz festival, my friends and I had to tell another grown (Dutch) man (probably in his 50s) that it is NOT ok to call a woman you don't know a bitch, especially when she has done nothing to you, and when you said it loudly enough to startle your neighbors, and when everyone is just trying to have a good time (no, it wasn't me he was talking to!). His response was "she was a DIRTY bitch!".

What is wrong with Dutch men??

Hong Kong

By the time we arrived in Hong Kong, we were sick of traveling. 3 weeks of living out of a suitcase, and a plane, train or bus to catch at least every 3 days. And though you couldn't really say we were "roughing it" in Viet Nam, we were ready to get back to a more Western city. Hong Kong was just that. And this was evident even before we saw our first Starbucks.

We stayed at the LKF Hotel in Hong Kong - huge, beautiful clean rooms with a perfect bed and shower, views of the city from floor to ceiling windows, and a great central location. As soon as we arrived, Matt changed and walked over to the Lasalle office to meet his Hong Kong colleagues. I took the opportunity to max and relax and shop. There is wonderful shopping to be had in Hong Kong - if you manage to find your way out of the mega-high end stores, there are some great little boutiques. The city was very much like San Francisco - nearly vertical, all new buildings (any old structures were either made to look that way or kept just to make the city seem charming), and, dare I say, a lot of Asians. In the evening I met up with Matt and some of his colleagues for cocktails, then we headed to a typical Hong Kong oddity - what can only be described as the social club. There are many of these in Hong Kong, and anybody who is anybody belongs to one. The one which you get accepted into will highlight your class status to all others. Basically, you apply and pay membership dues to be able to go into this large, hotel-like building with restaurants, a gym and pool, and meeting centers. So Victor took us to the Jockey club, and we got to choose which of the 4 restaurants we wanted to try - we picked the "Chinese" one. Wait, I thought we were in China?

After dinner, we took a cab back to the hotel and the crowds of people at the bars lining the street intrigued us enough to stop into a bar for some cocktails. It was largerly an after-work crowd, with all white people dressed in work clothes, most carrying their laptops. Peppered in were some scantily clad Asian girls. All very weird stuff. It certainly didn't feel like Asia anymore.

The next day we walked around the SoHo area (South of Hollywood) then meandered to the Mandarin Oriental Hotel's sushi restaurant with amazing views of the city. We glammed it up with some wine and sushi, then headed over to the Peak Tram Terminal. This was like Disneyland. We had no idea it would be so touristy. After pushing and elbowing to secure our places in line (just like Holland in this respect) we climbed aboard the tram to the top of the mountain. The weather cooperated with us and we were able to see clear as day over to the mainland. Usually Hong Kong island is very smoggy, not really due to the pollution in the island, but because of the pollution being blown over from the mainland. By the time we got back to the hotel, we were pooped and had just enough time to get showered and dressed to meet Todd (Matt's former boss) at his house.

Todd's house is a bit outside the city, so it was great seeing Hong Kong from a more local perspective. We got to meet their cute little daughter Chloe, and have a great catch-up with Todd and his wife Vicki at yet another social club (this one was the American Club - appropriate).

The next morning we packed our bags one final time to go back to Amsterdam. We took a cab over to the Hong Kong train station and there we saw one of the highlights of Hong Kong - most of the major airlines have kiosks at the train station, where you can check-in for your flight AND leave your luggage! We were irrationally excited about this. We had been dragging our backpacks around Southeast Asia for 3 and a half weeks, remember. We checked in our bags and boarded the fast train (20 minutes) to the airport with nothing in our hangs but some cups of coffee. Brilliant.

So marks the end of our honeymoon adventure. It was an incredible trip full of so many memorable moments. It wasn't your usual weeks-long stay at an all-inclusive resort on the beach, little umbrella drinks in tow. Instead we really got to push our limits, experience a new culture, and learn new things together. I wouldn't want to begin my marriage in any other way!

Honeymoon photos!

Finally, I have sorted through the 1,200 photos we took in Vietnam and Hong Kong. I have chosen the best of the best for your viewing pleasure.

And I am aware that I am still missing a post on Hong Kong, and I will get on that!

Links to the photos:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2023430&id=1207508861&l=276f9fe719

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2026548&id=1207508861&l=9daeb3dfe4

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2026841&id=1207508861&l=eabdb80cc6

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2026855&id=1207508861&l=279278f8ad

Finally Hanoi...

We had the foresight to request our hotel to collect us from the train station in Hanoi. Really, as bad as the Hanoi airport is with fake taxi drivers, it's got nothin' on the train station. Even at 4:30 in the morning when we arrived, the place was pulsating with people and waiting xe-oms. Our guide led us by the arm out of the madness, and into the quiet of sleeping Hanoi. In Saigon, the city would be coming awake and traffic would be picking up at 5am, but in Hanoi things start slightly later.

When we arrived at our hotel, our guide knocked on the glass door to wake up the hotel clerk that was sleeping on the floor by the front desk. Apparently this is normal here, but we found it very bizarre. We sat in wait for about an hour until breakfast began, then after eating we took our tired selves around the city a bit until we could check into our room.

A tale of two cities:
The best way to describe Hanoi is really in relation to its sister city in the south. Where Saigon is big and bustling, Hanoi is cramped and crowded. As I have mentioned, the Vietnamese always have something to sell you, but in Hanoi they are more experienced and distinctively more aggressive. Case in point: the women walking around with those hanging balances of fruit will try to sell you fruit, and when you refuse they try to put the hanging balance on your shoulder so that you and your compadre laugh and take a picture and then she can charge you for the "fun" she provided you with. We saw this in action quite a few times, and one time I literally had to run away from one of these ladies trying to unload on me. In Saigon, you refuse, they smile, walk away. Hanoi has a lot of rich history, and is traditionally viewed as more cultured than Saigon. I'm sure that at one point Hanoi was very charming, but in its forceful attempts at remaining charming, it has now become less so. Saigon just felt true, while Hanoi felt a bit contrived. And Saigon has better food. In many ways, Saigon and Hanoi are like Florence and Rome, respectively.

The weather in Hanoi was not ideal. Cloudy, wet and muggy. The wet weather made the streets filthy, and we had to make frequent stops at our hotel to wash our nasty feet. We have no idea where the dirt came from, since there is not much grass to speak of. Disgustingly enough it was probably from the food remains that people cook and eat literally on the sidewalk.

We of course payed a visit to the famous Ho Chi Minh mausoleum and it was an eerie experience. The whole complex, which consists of the mausoleum, a museum, HCM's former bunkers and garage, is incredibly protected, and whilst walking around you are obliged to maintain a "respectful demeanor" and exposed knees and shoulders and other "provocative attire" are strictly forbidden, as are covered heads. At one point as I was walking into the mausoleum a guard made me take off my hood and the person behind me take their hands out of their pockets. Ho Chi Minh's body is kept in a clear container in the mausoleum so you can actually see his dead body, which is impeccably maintained. It is mused that Madame Tussaud's is now in charge of his "preservation" and if so, I have renewed respect for their work! Walking through this place was an assembly line, with guards watching your every move. One guard even pushed me along when I took too long glaring at this dead body on display. Needless to say, photos were strictly forbidden.

One highlight from Hanoi was the coffee - very strong and served with sweetened condensed milk - yum! In Hanoi the streets were originally named after the products that were sold on that street. To some extent that is still the case, but mostly not. For example, there is a silk street and there are some tailors there still, but there are also travel agents and cafes. There are also new streets, like one devoted to shower caddies! In my search for essential oils, I came up empty, but we did come home with some great teacups. If you find yourself in Hanoi, definitely check out Hanoi Moment on the Silk Street. As far as restaurants go, there is no lack of them, and our favorites tended to be the Vietnamese-French fusion places, like Green Tangerine in the old quarter. Very unique food!

Whilst in Hanoi, we did take a few days to do a Halong Bay junk tour - which was incredible! Halong Bay is the other UNESCO World Heritage site in Vietnam (the other being the old town in Hoi An). It is basically a mass of huge limestone formations that jut out from the sea, with islands and grottoes and caves to explore. We thought we had seen beautiful limestone formations in the Phi Phi islands in Thailand, but they do not compare to Halong Bay.

Some say that Halong Bay is very touristy, and it is to some extent, but this can be limited by choosing the right travel company. We chose Red Dragon, a bit more expensive than the other ones, but this junk goes around, while all the others do and out and back (for 1 night tours, at least). Also the junks are smaller - ours held 8 people but there were only 6 of us.

For 2 days we sailed in our pirate ship around Halong Bay, with drinks on the deck, plenty of food (too much even, a 10-course lunch!), and great company. The boat manager and crew sang Vietnamese songs for us and even gave Matt and I a happy honeymoon cake. There is still one fishing village that is active in Halong Bay, and it is subsidized by the government. We took a tour on small boats rowed by village women around the village, and it was fascinating to see how some people live - literally on the water. There is one school in the village, and the teachers are volunteers from the mainland universities. We also stopped by a pearl factory and saw oysters being pulled out of the water and the pearls extracted. We also saw how some pearls are extracted then put back into an oysters along with the skin of another oyster in order to make it grow larger. It was such a unique experience, and I have a beautiful pearl bracelet as a souvenir from it!

Some are lucky to see the sunset over the limestone formations, which must be incredible, but most of the year the weather over Halong Bay is cloudy and misty. In many ways, this really adds to the mysticism of the place. On the morning of our second day, we took kayaks out on the water and also did a tour of a cave. Coming from the U.S. and seeing how many cares are given to tourists so that they don't injure themselves (and then sue), it is amazing to me how little warning you are given of some of the dangerous things you may be asked to do. Climbing up to the cave, which was not the one that most tourists go to, would be pretty difficult for elderly people, and many of the tourists to Vietnam are retired people. Somehow they make it though!

At this point in our trip, we were happy, relaxed, well-fed, but pretty exhausted from all of the traveling. During these 3 weeks, we did not stay in one place for more than 3 nights. Packing and unpacking our backpacks was starting to get old. But we had one more jaunt ahead of us - one very different from our Vietnamese experiences, more posh and sophisticated and international - Hong Kong!

Sapa

On Thursday, we somehow overcame our hesitation to leave the Nam Hai and boarded our flight to Hanoi. Saying goodbye to this amazing resort could only be described as a heroic undertaking.

The flight from Danang to Hanoi was about an hour long, and when we arrived in Hanoi the weather looked miserable. It was cold and rainy, a far cry from the sunny warmth of Hoi An. We scouted the taxi stand for a Mai Linh cab, literally swatting away the pesky independent guys that try to rip you off. Hanoi airport is famous for these jerks.

Our hotel in Sapa had arranged our overnight train tickets, and we were to pick them up at a designated cafe in Hanoi. When we arrived, there was already another couple there, waiting for the same service for the same train to the same hotel. It made us more confident about the whole adventure. Viet arrived with our tickets in due time, and we sat around chatting with him about life in Hanoi for about an hour before we had to leave for the train station. A weird guy to say the least, but we would have been toast without Viet - he joined us in the cab and even deposited us in our seats. Matt and I had decided to splurge for a 2-berth carriage, this being our honeymoon and all. Plus, we were signed up for a hike the next day and were hoping to get some sleep.

The train was surprisingly a smooth ride - and a pretty surreal experience, but that could be attributed in part to my Benadryl-fueled hallucinations. Unfortunately we couldn't see much of the country from the window since it was so dark, which was just as well so that we could get some sleep. We arrived in Lao Cai at 5:30 am. The sun was not up yet, which made finding the guy that was to take us up to the mountains of Sapa even more difficult. Again, lots of gringos getting off the train.

Lao Cai is 2km from the border with China, and Sapa is the town up the mountain. Sapa is famous in Viet Nam for its traditional hill tribes, which have not changed their centuries old way of life. The mountains of Sapa are steeped rice paddies, and it is the only place in Viet Nam that actually gets snow. The rice grown here is eaten here and not ever sold, b/c unlike the Mekong, Sapa only has one rice crop per year. Life here is tough. Sapa opened up its doors to the first tourists about 8 years ago, and tourism has really grown tremendously in the past 2 years, with most tourists coming from Australia. The biggest draw is trekking and seeing how the hill tribes live. If you time it just right, you can even get sunny, warm, clear skies. We, however, did not.

After being blindly shoved into a white van filled with other gringos, we drove the 45 ear-popping minutes up the mountain. When we arrived at our hotel, I was surprised to see that the proprietor that I had been emailing with was actually a gringo too. Pete is from Australia, and he opened up the Sapa Rooms Boutique about a year ago. This man can aptly be described as a saint - to the people of Sapa, he offers good-paying jobs, either working in the hotel or giving his guests tours, and good training, including transfers to work in the café in Hanoi. To his guests, he takes care of every last detail.

When we arrived we were fed then shown to our rooms, where we changed for our first hike. We were ill-prepared for the cold, so our solution was pretty Dutch in nature -wear all of your clothes at once. The Aussie couple decided to join us for our hike, so the four of us plus our local guide headed into the mountains to the Red Dzao village of Taphin. This hike was relatively easy, mainly just walking up a new government road. The views were beautiful, though would probably have been more so if we could see more than 15 feet in front of us - the fog was really heavy. We stopped for lunch at a tiny shanty cafe, where our tour guide made us a phó lunch. Then, for the highlight of our trip, we went to the Taphin "spa". In Taphin it is popular to take these steaming hot baths with medicinal herbs throw in for good measure. I will describe it as rustic...it was fairly cartoonish in that we had to climb into these big wooden kegs, in water that was just past its boiling. We felt like Bugs Bunny after Yosemite Sam got his hands on him. I wouldn't have been surprised if someone came in and threw chopped carrots in there with us.

The bath really hit the spot though - after drudging in the cold mud it did feel healing, in a way. We were all so relaxed after our baths that we were practically worshipping Pete for having arranged a jeep for our trip back to the hotel. After some dinner and glasses of red wine, we were totally ready to hit the hay stack.

The next morning we put on all of our clothes again for another hike - this one would involve a homestay in the village of Tavan with a local guide from the Black H'moung tribe. This time it was just Matt and I and our guide - plus a slew of tribe women that followed us all the way to our lunch spot so that they could persuade us to buy things from them. They apparently get word of gringos in the hotels that are planning treks and wait outside the hotel for them to head out. Literally these women waited out front for hours before we got our act together and before our tour guide showed up. Pete told us that these women will chance their whole day on making just one sale, and once they get the money for their embroidered products they head immediately to the market to buy vegetables for their family. We did not mind this entourage of women - aged 13 to 54 - one bit, especially since they helped me through some very slippery slopes during our trek. I may still be at the bottom of some mountain in Sapa if it wasn't for them. So we did our duty and bought something small and silly from each other them. As a thanks, the youngest one gave me a friendship bracelet.

After a lunch spot at a busy café filled to the brim with trekking gringos, we ended up at our homestay very early. Too early. We were there at 2:30, freezing our buns off with literally nothing to do. Luckily, Pete had told us to bring a deck of cards, so we started playing. Our tour guide eventually joined. The homestay was a bit of a jip, in that it wasn't really someone's home. It was, but the part where the guests stayed was separate from where the family stayed, and there was literally room for 20 guests. But it was cold - very, very cold. Most of the night we spent huddled by the fire, watching the flames smoke a big pig face hanging over it that was left over from the Tet festivities. Dinner was a greasy, splendid feast - aside from the fact that we ate it in a concrete room with one long flurouescent bulb, huddled in cold over our tiny bowls, sitting in tiny plastic stools, watching a Chinese soap opera in the dark with the family (a father, daughter and grandmother - the mother was spending a few days in the town passing out invitations for the older son's upcoming nuptials) and our tour guide. They were watching this soap opera so intently, it was such a bizarre scene. Apparently this is very typical in Viet Nam, and this particular soap opera is on every day at 6. In some ways, Sapa is so American...

The family didn't speak English, so the homestay was not as enlightening as we had hoped - it would have been nice to chat with them about life in Sapa. In the evening another tour guide we had met on the way came over to play cards and drink rice wine with us. Her guest was a miserable German girl who hated everything and just wanted to sleep. Everything shuts down very early here - in fact, there is a sign as you enter the town warning against noise after 10pm. It also warns against foreigners kissing in front of the locals. Our tour guides told us that kids usually get drunk as a way of entertaining themselves in Sapa, and these girls were ADDICTED to their cell phones - texting and calling friends, playing music on it, you name it. Their English was very impressive, even more so since they learned it just from speaking with tourists. At one point, one of the tour guides took Matt's cell phone and started reading his text messages. We were too impressed with her abilities to be annoyed by it.

We somehow made it through the night. We piled on 3 blankets and snuggled up on one tiny bed. If it wasn't for the rooster singing on the other side of the concrete wall starting at 2am, it would have been a decent nights sleep. We awoke around 7, piled on jackets and headed to the outhouse to brush our teeth, then met the family for breakfast - banana pancakes for the gringos, leftover dinner for the locals. Then we jetted off on a trek that was very challenging. We were drudging along the walls of the steeped rice patties, narrow as a balance beam, and slippery and wet. At one point I thought that it wasn't a matter of if I would fall, but when. But somehow I managed to stay upright. We crossed over some fantastic places, including walking over a dried up waterfall (dried up b/c it was the dry season). The whole time we were trekking I was not happy with my situation - I much prefer to sip cocktails on a beach somewhere - but it was really a fantastic feeling when you finish.

As we walked back into town, we passed the big market and saw some icky things for sale - like dog. Apparently though, dog meat is no cheaper than regular meat. So it's not a matter of poverty, they like the way dogs taste. So they eat them. This is more of a northern Viet Nam thing, but even there the people are divided on whether it is delicious or horrific.

We took the overnight train back to Hanoi that night. I remember whilst in the shuttle going down the mountain (which was playing a kareoke CD, by the way, the kind with the vocals very low) seeing a tribe girl sneaking off into a crevace on the face of a mountain, and wanting to see where she was going off to. Sapa treks really are addictive.

Overall Sapa was a major highlight of our trip - even though while we were there it was quite miserable. I had a bit of a cold that I contracted on the flight to Hanoi, which was only made worse by the drastic change in temperature, it was foggy and cold and wet, the shower at the hotel was never really that hot, and we were trekking over some treacherous tracks. But in the end, it was one of our most incredible and memorable experiences from this trip. Somehow seeing Sapa in this light made its poverty even more devastating. Somehow these people can survive.

By the time we reached Hanoi, we were seasoned travelers of this great land of Viet Nam. Or so we thought.

Hoi An - You buy?

Our arrival in Hoi An was a breath of fresh air. The town was so incredibly charming that it was hard to believe it was in the same country we had been traveling around for the past 10 days. What was also a total shock was the sheer number of westerners (aka gringos) around.

The Old Town of Hoi An is a UNESCO World Heritage site. Being that it was one of the only places in Viet Nam that the US didn't bomb "back to the stone age" it has retained its charm. Because it is protected it also has certain regulations that it needs to comply with - for example, all store fronts must have a similar style of signage. It makes for a cute sight, but it felt almost too sterile. Give the tourists what they want I guess - a place in Viet Nam that doesn't even feel like Viet Nam anymore. This, however, did not stop us from doing what was expected of us (as gringos) in Hoi An - buy.

In our exasperation at (desperately) wanting to leave Quy Nhon the night before we called several hotels asking for their availability. All were booked, except for one that had a single room left. And this room was being touted at twice the price of the others, because it was very "special". The hotel guy didn't tell us what was so special about it, but we figured out from the Lonely Planet that it was one of 2 rooms that served as Michael Caine's dressing room during the filming of "The Quiet American". We didn't have very high expectations of this special room, but as it turned out, it was a really cool room! Very kitschy.

Once we arrived, we set down our bags and went out for lunch. We settled on some Tiger beers and bahn xeo and started to relax. I conveniently sat with a direct view to a few very cute stalls selling brightly colored Chinese lanterns, and was effectively smitten. Let the buying begin. The rest of the day we walked around the town, perusing the wares, finally ending our day at one of the French colonial-style restaurants for dinner.

Matt was still feeling terrible, so the next morning we decided to pay a visit to the local doctor, who spoke English. We were there with a few (other) mommies and their cry-babies. He gave Matt some meds, and then took a look at my horrendous bugbites. He was really worried about Dengue fever, but once I told him I didn't have any symptoms, just incredibly itchy welts, he told me to cover up (I was wearing very short shorts but it was ONLY so that he could diagnose me properly, honest!) and gave me some hydrocortisone cream. We would live.

The touting is as much alive here as it is everywhere else in Viet Nam. Just walking by a store will elicit a "you buy something here?" People even have their little children trying to sell things, which is especially sad. Every other shop in Hoi An is a tailor. Most girls born in Hoi An are tailors. The biggest business is not selling the clothes they have in stock, but making something completely for you. You can come in with a dress you want copied, or a picture of something you want made, or just look through their myriad binders full of magazine cutouts of clothes they can make you. Once you have chosen what you want, you select your fabric. Some places have been known to promise you the fabric you chose, then pull the old switcheroo and replace your silk with a synthetic (word of note: silk burns, synthetic melts). But the reputable places are pretty easy to spot. Over the next 2 days in Hoi An, we first hesitantly, then happily, obliged and had several things made. The post office also wants you to buy. They will even come to your hotel with a scale and weigh, box and bill to have your things sent home so you don't want to worry about not having room in your suitcase. Or you can always buy another suitcase in Hoi An. It is just too easy.

On Tuesday, the Nam Hai, the amazing resort we booked as the highlight of our trip, sent over a car to pick us up around lunchtime. Immediately it was a different ball game - leather seats, cold bottles of Aquafina, cool towells to wipe your face, and a chatty driver that was all smiles and good English. Fifteen minutes later, we arrived in paradise. This resort is incredible - no detail is spared. We had an iced tea at the bar overlooking the pools and beach and then were shown to our villa. Yes, a villa. It was cavernous and beautifully decorated. Every villa is situated so as to have a beach view.

Our only qualm was the fact that we couldn't go in the water - again. This time not b/c of the ickiness but because of the ripping undercurrent. We persuaded the pseudo-lifeguard (he was basically there just to discourage you from going in) into letting us go in just up to our waists, assuring him that we were strong swimmers. The water was really rough, but the temp was perfect. Too bad.

We eased our pain by lying at any one of 3 infinity pools, all serviced by friendly staff that brought you whatever you wanted. It was almost too much service. Matt and I are not really the kind of people that enjoy people being servant-like to us. The resort was rather empty - supposedly it was 35% occupancy, but even that seems a bit high. With this economy though it makes sense that it was quiet.

That night, we enjoyed our free happy hour and a meet and greet with the Nam Hai's General Manager, an Austrian guy. We had dinner at the hotel, which was naturally exorbitantly over-priced but really delicious, and it was our way to repay for the bottomless sparkling wines we had during the happy hour.

The next day Matt went to play golf at their sister hotel down the road. He was the only one on the links, and had a little Vietnamese girl named Nu as his caddy and she had a crush on him and rooted for him every time he had a good shot - all in all, not a bad day for him! or me - I spent it by the pool and getting a pedicure.

That night we went back to Hoi An to have dinner with a former colleague of Matt's. Strangely enough, this guy (who is Dutch) had left Holland to move to Australia about a year and a half ago, and in that time, he got married to his girlfriend and was in Viet Nam for their honeymoon - at the same time as WE were in Viet Nam for our honeymoon. Funny how these things happen.

Eventually our time at the Nam Hai had to come to an sad end. We spent our last evening drinking the champagne and eating the delicious cake they provided us for our honeymoon, then ordered room service and watched movies on the giant flat screen, lounging in plush robes on the enormous bed. It was really nice to have a chill night like that during the trip - it helped to recharge us for what was coming - trekking in Sapa.

The Transporters

Since our first Viet Nam stop in Saigon and then on to Con Dao Islands, our next several days were crammed with different modes of transportation all over the southern part of the country - a plane back to Saigon, xe oms and buses galore.

We booked the Rex Hotel for our second leg in Saigon and were extremely impressed. At half the price of the Caravelle, just down the road, it was twice as nice. The roof terrace here is famous - the hotel housed a lot of the American officers during the Viet Nam War and the roof bar then was called Five O'Clock Follies.

Our first stop was the Ben Than market, the largest and most popular indoor market in HCMC. They sell all kinds of goodies here - clothes, food, souvenirs, bags, etc. We got a few things, did some bargaining, then sat for some food and beers. Mobbed is not really an effective enough word to describe it - if you let your eyes linger a little too long on something you will have to talk your way out of not buying it! In Viet Nam, it seems like everyone is selling something, and everything is for sale.

The next day we took a day trip to the Mekong Delta, and were glad that we hadn't planned on spending any more time there. There isn't anything to do but get stared at by the locals. We went to the town of Ben Tre, and were very proud of ourselves for getting down there as the locals do - buses all the way (3 in total one way). Not only was it a very interesting way to see how the Vietnamese get around, it also saved us quite a lot of money - half-day tours cost around $40 per person, and we got there and back on around $7 each. Other than the Vietnamese lady throwing up in the seat in front of us, it was an easy breezy ride. The Lonely Planet describes Ben Tre as a "sleepy" town, and I think they meant that literally - everyone was sleeping on hammocks on the sidewalk or curled up on top of their motorbikes. We saw some interesting food items for sale at the market though, like eel and frogs (alive).

We took the bus to Cholon, the Chinese district of HCMC, the following day and did some pagoda-hopping, which was really nice. We also walked over to the traditional herb market, which is certainly not as charming as it sounds!

Our next stop was Qyn Nhon, a beach town in the south-central part of the country that our Lonely Planet raved about. We, however, were extremely disappointed. The town has a great beach and a lovely boardwalk, which stays empty because you can't go in the water. Nobody could give us a clear answer as to why, but it seems to be due to some "hygiene" issues with some fishing villages down the water that don't have plumbing. So we checked out the nicest beach in town where you can actually swim, which was 19km outside of town, and we had to take xe oms to get there. It was our first ride on a xe om, and the air here was clean and the roads were much less crowded so it was really the highlight of our trip to Qyn Nhohn. This beach could have been very beautiful if it wasn't for the litter everywhere and the fornicating stray dogs. There was no shelter from the blistering sun aside from some concrete huts set back from the beach a bit by jutting rocks. Also I think the beach was flea infested. I got some massive bug bites all over my body, at least 25 on my legs, shoulders, stomach, back and arms. After pre-dinner drinks at the absolutely empty roof bar and the disappointing dinner, we cut our 2 night stay here short and got the bus out of town right and early the next morning.

We headed up to Hoi An, and the bus took 6 hours and was pretty horrible, given my itchy bug bites and Matt had a headache and was coming down with a fever (we think from the noodles he had at the Ben Than market). At our first pit stop I would have loved to use the restroom, but once I saw that this was a mosquito-invested squat toilet, I opted out. I didn't need any more bug bites, especially not in the most delicate of places! The bus dropped us off literally on the side of a highway about 10km from the city of Hoi An, and we hopped on xe oms, with our big backpacks, and motored it the rest of the day. By the time we reached our destination it was only 1pm but we felt like we had been to hell and back. Luckily, Hoi An was as welcome a place as you can get, especially for the avid shopper :-)

Good morning, VIET NAM!

We have not looked forward to a vacation more so than this one - our 3 week honeymoon in Viet Nam. The weather in northen Europe could not have been worse when we left. Near freezing temperatures but still raining. Horrible!

We were dreading a bit the 13 hour flight. We tried to get sleeping pills but the good ones require an Rx, and lo and behold both of the doctors at our clinic decided to go on vacation the week before we left (ah the Dutch), so we settled on some herbal melatonin for me and expired Tylenol PM for Matt. Needless to say, Matt slept but I did not. Instead I sweated it out (very hot in that plane!) in the middle aisle between sleeping Matt at the window and a very plump Dutch man blocking my aisle. Just when I thought I would start screaming and convulsing with claustrophobia, the man got up to walk around, so I took that opportunity to do the same. A neat little trick that Air France played on us was to not tell us that we had a stopover in Bangkok. Funny guys.

When we arrived in Ho Chi Minh City, the heat, humidity and activity were a shock to our systems - a very welcome one. The city was buzzing with motorbikes, more motorbikes that you could ever imagine. Everyone wears helmets, and most wear face masks to protect against the exhaust, and many women wear gloves (my theory is to prevent brown hands).

We had booked a 2 night spa package at a beautiful hotel (the Caravelle) and enjoyed our included massages that night, which were great after a very cramped trip. Afterwards we had cocktails on the gorgeous rooftop terrace and picked a restaurant for dinner. There were many to choose from, HCMC is a culinary mecca!

The next day we slept in late and then headed out to check out the city. We got fleeced by some cyclos (the guys that ride you on their bicycle) who showed us around some pagodas and then demanded 4x the amount we had agreed on. I was much angrier about it then Matt, who said the price was still kind of reasonable. They finally dropped us by the War Remnants Museum, a very disturbing museum with photos and facts about the atrocities of the Vietnam War (which interestingly enough is called the American war here). They also had a replica of the tiger cages that the French built in Con Dao to keep prisoners - as many as 14 in one during the hot season, a number you can't even imagine when you look into one of these.

Afterwards we lunched on Bahn Xeo, a dish we have become avid fans of. Bahn Xeo is a shrimp, pork and egg pancake that you wrap in either a lettuce leaf or rice paper and dip in a spicy sauce. Delish!

We ate very well in HCMC, but the feast had to end (temporarily) on Saturday, when we boarded our flight to Con Dao, a set of islands off the southeastern coast of Viet Nam. The landscape here was gorgeous - tall mountains, sandy beaches, blue-green waters. But there was nothing to do there but sit on the beach and read. The first night we decided against having dinner at the resort restaurant and instead go to the only restaurant in town mentioned in our tour book. However the hotel manager saved us, and told us that place was no good and to go somewhere else. We found the place he had recommended instead and after some charades with the waitress found out they were booked b/c of a big group that was coming. So we wandered around, listening to the creepy sounds of the Voice of Vietnam blaring over the loudspeakers in town, and decided that the only place that didn't look sketchy was the hotel restaurant, so we went back. The food was surprisingly delicious though, so we didn't mind eating here for the next 3 nights!

After the quiet of Con Dao, by the time Tuesday rolled around we were pretty excited to head back to the vivaciousness of Saigon!

Christmas with the Sgrizzis

Christmas 2008 was our 3rd Christmas since moving abroad, and our first as a married couple!

This Christmas Eve we went to our friends Agata and Theo's in Bunshoten, a very small village in the east of Holland. Agata is Polish and made us an incredible Polish-style feast with all the traditional fixings - mushrooms in vinegar, fish in Greek style, beet soup and sauerkraut pierogis. No meat allowed. We ate and ate starting from 6:30 pm until about midnight, with shots of vodka and opening gifts in between. We sat around chatting and playing games until after 3 am. We stayed the night, and the next day we ate the same food as the night before (the Polish tradition), this time with sweet cheese pieorgis instead of the sauerkraut pierogis. Then the four of us parked on the couch to watch a movie and eat clementines until Matt and I finally motivated to catch the train back to Amsterdam at 3.

When we got home we opened our other gifts that we hadn't brought over. I love having unread books in my arsenal, but the past few months of picking up new books from the book club girls, my Friday afternoon perusals of the used book market on the Spui, and all my Christmas winnings have left me feeling a bit intimidated by the massive pile I have to read. Matt also got me a gorgeous necklace and a much needed new tea kettle (our old one was getting fun-kay). I spoiled him with cashmere and Paul Smith, but the biggest hit was the bottle of Johnny Walker Blue Label. I swear I have never seen him so excited.

The next day was Tweede Kerstdag, or Second Christmas Day, which is a holiday in the Netherlands, and just as important as Christmas itself. We made a massive brunch, complete with mimosas and rabanadas - the traditional Brazilian christmas breakfast that is like french toast but made oh so much more delicious by soaking the bread overnight in custard and rolling the fried dough in a cinammon/sugar/cocoa mixture. Yes, we had gone to the gym beforehead. For some reason I then remembered how much I love the old Bill Cosby standup and watched as many as I could find on youtube, cracking up while Matt stared at me curiously.

It was really nice having so much time to just veg and spend time together - playing chess, watching movies, and lots of EATING. It felt like we had Amsterdam all to ourselves with everyone gone (most of our friends here had gone home for the holidays). We also finally finished the wedding albums for our parents/grandparents. But we are very happy that our friends are now returning, and we're looking forward to the mayhem that is a New Year's eve in Amsterdam. More to come...

Ausfahrt: Münster

The first weekend in December, Matt and I joined 5 of our friends for a true Christmas market experience in Germany. We packed into Ross and Sascha's car on Friday evening for the 2.5 hour ride down. We had some laughs in the car about the German word for highway exit - auhsfart. How old are we?

Münster is a city in northen Germany with about 270,000 inhabitants - many of which are students. The rest are all old people. The Münster tourism website claims that people "as far away as Amsterdam" travel there for the Christmas markets (remember,just a 2.5 hour drive). But we weren't looking for a major happening city - just some markets where we could have glüwein and German sausages and good conversation.


Since we were two cars, we didn't get the gang all together until almost 10pm on Friday night. We met up at a bar in the main square that was teeming with people watching the football game. Finally when we got our act together to get dinner, no restaurants would take us. The only restaurant willing to seat 7 at nearly 11 was the Italian place - not what we had in mind, but at that point we just wanted to eat. After dinner we headed to one of the student bars and had some nice German brews.

The next morning I was laid out with a 24 hour flu, so missed the breakfast and the first shift at the Christmas markets. I tried to go out for about an hour and have a hot chocolate with everyone, but I couldn't stand up for very long without feeling like I would pass out, so I headed back to the hotel to rest up, hoping I would feel better by the evening. A few hours later, Matt came back to the hotel to check on me, and we ended up falling asleep for 2 hours. We called the rest of the group when we woke up to see where they were, and they had all just headed back to their hotel to take naps too. We had a few hours to kill before we met up for dinner, and I was feeling slightly better, so the two of us headed out for some glüwein. Though feeling crappy didn't help my opinion of my first Christmas market, I realized this is probably not my thing - standing in the cold, drinking really sweet, weird tasting wine-like liquids, getting shoved around by old people is not my idea of a good time. I'm Brazilian, people. Put me on a leather couch next to a fireplace instead.
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We met up with another 2 friends that had just arrived in town that afternoon for some Irish coffees, and slowly the gang reunited for dinner. Earlier Matt and I had scoured the town for a place that would seat 9 of us for dinner that night. Most places laughed in our face and asked if we were telling them a joke. But one place could seat us, albeit in the bar area, where people were allowed to smoke. I wasn't feeling 100%, and the smoke got to all of us - it's hard to believe we've only been smoke-free in Amsterdam for 5 months, since we were so not prepared for that stench. There was also someone in there smoking a cheap cigar, which smelled absolutely gnarly. But we had some really yummy schnitzels, good beers and many laughs, and we were just happy to be together. We got some horrible news about other friends and were all a bit thrown by it, so took that time to be really thankful that we were all alive and well. Some emotional "I love you guys!" all around.

The next day the sun made an appearance, and put us all in better spirits. We got some food and hot chocolates and did a bit of shopping at the markets, though nothing they were selling was very appealing. You'd think there would be some original stuff in the markets, but everything looked like it came from China. Matt and I went home with a knit cap for his brother, some socks and a candied apple. We hit the road at around 3, making it back to Amsterdam with plenty of time to catch the Giants game.

Venlo - Bling Ass On

The second weekend of November, we took a road trip down to Venlo. Venlo is in the southeastern part of Holland, very close to the German border (in fact, we nearly drove right into Germany when we got lost one time).

Venlo has a pretty turbulent history. During WWII, British intelligence agents were kidnapped by the Germans in Venlo in what is known as the "Venlo Incident", where the Nazis linked Britain to an attempted assassination of Hitler. The Nazis used this as justification to invade Netherlands, which was neutral during the war. Despite this chaotic history, the city is really boring. But our friend Joep lives there, and when he invited all of us for a weekend of mountain biking for the guys and boar hunting for the girls, we were intrigued. The girls decided that we would prefer getting massages at a spa in Maastricht, a very cute nearby town, to boar hunting, and thus a deal was struck.

We hitched a ride with Will and Em on Saturday morning. After some traffic and a very difficult journey as all bridges into the city were closed, we finally arrived at the Aveda spa(albeit pretty late to our appointments). Luckily the spa was absolutely dead, so we didn't have any problems keeping all of our appointments. Jen, Jane and Sascha arrived shortly after us, by which time Em and I were already in our bathrobes getting our feet rubbed. We all got our respective spa treatment, drank 3 bottles of the champagne we brought, and ate the salad lunch that the spa prepared for us. Eventually, we realized we had been at the spa for over 5 hours and we wanted to put our clothes back on. There were no windows in the place since we were in the basement, so we were shocked that it was so late. We were antsy and a bit drunk from the champagne, and there were no spa workers to be found. Eventually we decided to take matters into our own hands, and Em knocked on the door of the room where we had left our clothes, then marched in, interrupting a massage. This was immediately after Em and Jen had taken to playing drums in the waiting area. We were so embarassed and giggly from interrupting a massage that we didn't even hear Jane trying to tell us that our clothes were put in a different room. Finally, after another hour of yapping and sitting around in bathrobes, Jane tries to tell us again that our clothes were in a different room, and we say "Why didn't you tell us before!!" and go get dressed. Clothes on, we still don't have our bags and phones b/c they've been locked up and there is still no one to be found, so we decide to try out the makeup samples. We piled it on and thought we looked amazing, but we probably looked horrific. Eventually, we make our escape, meet the boys who by this point are none too happy with us, and drive to Venlo. This is also when we get lost and drive to Germany.

The boys were exhausted from their mountain biking, and the girls were also pretty beat from sitting around in robes and drinking champagne all day (he he) so we had a pretty chill night. We ordered Chinese take-out, played drinking games and the Wii and listened to some tunes. Eventually we all passed out on our air mattresses.

The next morning, we were slow in getting out of the apartment. Jen and I had a battle royal on the playstation with some random fighting game (we were just pressing buttons at rapid speed, much how the way girls usually play video games). When we finally motored, we drove to the Venlo city center for some coffee. The town was dead. We spotted a cafe and sat down for some coffee and some food.

After lunch, we made our way back to our cars to drive home. This is where we spotted the most awesome sign on a store window - Bling Ass On (see photo above). We had no idea what it meant, and it was too perfect to let go. Venlo is so weird.

Wedding Pictures!

Thais and Matt Wedding Selected

A wedding tragedy

Ha, sorry for the leading title to this blog, but I could not resist. This Halloween we convinced our non-American friends (and some American ones) to join the ages-old holiday tradition of getting dressed up in scary costumes, eating lots of chocolate, and drinking lots of booze. I must say it was a very successful venture and fun was had by all.

Eight of us decided to go as a dead bridal party. We looked decidedly disturbing. The party kicked off at our place, with eyeball martinis and the Monster Mash, and we finalized our costumes - read: poured blood on each other. Our poor bride Jane had to stand on a towell all night as we drenched her in it. The effect was brilliant.

Around 10:30, along with a jolly monk, a couple of Dia de los Muertos revelers and Lance Armstrong, we marched over to the Amsterdam Dungeon for a haunted house. Then the party continued until 4am at Boom Chicago. The best was the looks we were getting from the Dutchies as we walked along the street. I can't blame them though - we looked really scary.