Showing posts with label Day Trips. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Day Trips. Show all posts

Friday, May 2

Trier, Wein, und SPARTACUS

First off, this post is dedicated to my cousin Lisa and her husband Eric who welcomed their first baby girl into our family yesterday. I can't wait to meet you, Sophia.

Well hello! Fancy meeting you here. May I take your coat and hat? Don't get too excited. These are pretend manners. I was just going to throw them in the closet with all the rest. Just kidding... on two counts:

1) How could I ever do that to you? You've been there through it all. Over the past four months, you've traveled to same European cities, scoffed at the same awkward moments, seen the same breathtaking landscapes I have, all through the power of Google Blog. Don't ever tell Google that, though. It has enough power as it is. Trust me. I'm a professional. Why yes, yes I did just embed a link to my work blog. Want to fight about it?

2) There are no other coats. Nor hats. Nor closets. Wait... literally. There are no closest in this house. Huh. I just realized that. Cabinets galore. Bookshelves, sure. But no closets. How sneaky. Where the heck am I supposed to hull up the event of an impromptu game of hide and seek?

Right... side-notes...moving along...

Well, it looks like we're in the home stretch, dear Reader. Two weeks, two days and two two hours from today*, I'll be in the backseat of my parents' car, pressing my nose up against the window, soaking up all I have missed about American suburbia. The grass, the dogs, the asphalt, the mailboxes, the maple tree leaves. It's not over yet, but I can safely say it's been a whirlwind of a trip. And it means so very much to me that you've been a part of it all.

In the meantime... let's go to Deutschland, ja? Ja.

This past weekend I went to Trier, Germany with my art class. Uh oh. Art class. You know what that means. Intensely-jam-packed itinerary, lots of ho-hum-historical chats, and lots... LOTS of cathedrals. Quite the contrary, dear Reader... the trip was incredible. This photo sums up my weekend:

This looks like a really lame glamour shot with a completely fake background. But no, boys and girls. That's the green splendid beauty of Luxembourg (first pit stop, ho-hum) and Germany. Every field we strolled through, I picked a dandelion. Just like the grapes and mushrooms in Brussels, the flowers were abnormally HUGE. I'm convinced the rainfall here contains high levels of steroids.

But enough about that. The point of the story is this trip was one of the most leisurely, scenically-breathtaking, fantastically self-indulgent trips I've been on with the art class folks. We took a bus from Brussels, so the ride was four bumpy hours of beautiful rolling greenery and farm animals and fences and skies that stretched from here until infinity. Or, you know, the horizon.

Garrett and I kept tapping each other on the shoulder, motioning out the window, alerting one another to yet another magnificent scene to behold. Scenes so beautiful there was nothing to say except, "My god." I'm sorry to report that I didn't have my camera with me, but I justify that error by insisting that the pictures would have been blurry through the bus window anyway.

First stop was a cemetery. Surely you recall how I feel about cemeteries from the post about Paris. This one was different. To be honest. Quite different.


It was like the European version of Arlington Cemetery. As a matter of fact, it was an American cemetery - every soldier who fell during the Battle of the Bulge was buried here, including Patton himself.


Go ahead, say it. My life has become a history text book. Watch out for the paper cuts.

For kicks, let's continue on the historical path before we dive right into the sloping vineyards and emerald hills of the countryside. Next stop was the cemetery commemorating the same battle, except here, the German soldiers were buried.

Yeah, I guess that's about all I have to say about that. Onto the sloping vineyards and emerald hills.


These are some of my friends. I hope this photo more or less conveys the serenity of that Saturday afternoon, beneath the waxing and waning sunlight, laying in the grass laced with weeds the color of Rapunzel's locks. Well. Her locks were blonde, right? Let's assume they are. Were. Pfft, myths. Okay. Let's proceed.

As the hills seemed to swallow up the city below, so we too tried our best to soak up the magnificence of it all.


I sat on that hill for twenty minutes without speaking, willing my body to memorize the landscape.

I did not come close.

As if this wasn't emotionally draining enough, our bus kept stopping off at scenic overlooks. Call my doctor. Make sure my life insurance plan is air tight. Finalize the last will and testament. My brain and heart cannot take this!


Would you believe that our professor only dragged us into two cathedrals on this trip? I didn't mind. Especially not the first one. It was flooded with light and positive energy - a change from the dark arches and peaks and stained glass we've seen before. Don't get me wrong, they're beautiful too, but...


Yeah. We were fortunate enough to, yet again, catch a blushing bride before she stepped inside to say her vows.

Whoops, here I go - back into history text book mode. Did you know that Trier is the oldest city in Germany? And it was the former capital of the Roman Empire? Yeah, me neither. Oh hey check it out! Some authentic Roman Baths ruins.

History-overload, no? The ruins were incredible. Oh hey check it out! A really old fortress by the name of Porta Nigra. I think this used to be the gateway to the city. Literally.


Like I said, after the first preliminary historical attractions, the remainder of the weekend was self-indulgent and gorgeous. Oh, wait, whoops. We went to the former house of Karl Marx. That's sort of historical. It was pretty nifty as well.


Afterwards, my new friend Allie** and I, unknowing trend setters that we are, got some fantastic veggie Chinese food. We sat under an umbrella on the sidewalk patio and enjoyed the sunshine and the charm of Trier and each other's company. Slowly but surely, our friends drifted down the avenue to drool over our lovely dishes of deliciousness, and one by one they all fell prey to the culinary delight that is CHOPSTICKS! (oh yeah, that was the name of the place. Clever. I want to go to a place called SALAD FORK! or BUTTER KNIFE!).

The last thing on our agenda for Sunday was a tour of a wine cellar and a wine-tasting fiesta.

The 200-something acre vineyard had belonged to the fellow's family for something like three generations, maybe longer. I had a hard time paying attention to his preliminary speech. When the speaker is standing in front of this...

...it's difficult to focus on anything other than the steep beauty rolling up up and away into the horizon. I do remember him mentioning that the 60% incline of the vineyard is optimal for sun exposure and rainfall distribution. So if that's ever your question on Who Wants To Be A Millionaire, you know who to call.

Who are we kidding, that show is so 2002.

After touring the cellar, it was time for the actual tasting. We got a crash course in proper tasting techniques... are you ready, Reader?

1) See

2) Sniff

3) Slurp

4) Repeat

And then, the bus ride home. We watched Kirk Douglas in Spartacus. That was a bleak movie. I mean sure, great for the future generations of Roman slaves, but that poor Spartacus fellow could never catch a break. He was beaten. He was broken. He had to kill his best friend. He even had to watch his wifey and son ride off into the sunset with his boss-man while he hung on a cross. Dow-ner.

In conclusion, Reader, please believe me when I say I'd dash back to Germany in a second. A fraction of a second. As they say in the old country, die Welt ist ein Garten, und Deutschland ist die überlegene Blume. Actually, I just made that up. But it's true.

Yesterday, May 1st, was a special holiday in Brussels. I'm an ignorant lass but I think it had something to do with Deutsch Socialist liberation labor force blee blee blah. Essentially, it translated to lots of drinking and lots of red t-shirts and killer live bands and fake plots of grass laid out in the front yard of St. Katherine's. Check back soon for a post all about that extravaganza.

Until we meet again...

Ich Liebe Dich!
Lauren



* - This 2 2 2 time stamp was true when I began drafting this post yesterday... I kept it because, come on now, that was a mighty cool coincidence.

** - The photos in this post were graciously ninjaed from my friend's albums, many of which were borrowed from Allie's collection. She and her boyfriend, studying abroad as well, and they too are keeping a blog of their discoveries, adventures, and experiences during their time in Brussels. I highly recommend you check it out - charm, wit, and excellent stories.

Wednesday, February 6

Carnival de Binche

Happy belated Mardi Gras, everyone!

In America, when you think of Mardi Gras, what do you picture? Topless girls, plastic beads and 24/7 consumption of alcoholic beverages? Yeah, me too.

Well, in Belgium, it's a little different. Except for the alcohol part...

Here, there is a parade through the city during which they chuck oranges at bystanders.

Yeah, that's about right.

So yesterday, a bunch of friends and I skipped class (who needs Introduction to International Relations Theory, anyway?) and took the 9:36 am to Binche, a city about an hour south of Brussels. Once we got there, we were greeted by myriad troops carrying sticks, wearing wooden clogs, dressed in what looked like white and orange jester costumes stuffed with pillows and dangling with bells. Well... see for yourself:


We followed the troops to a strange fortified building:


At the end of tunnel they led us through was free champagne. It was qutie crowded. We did not receive any champagne. That was a disappointment. To rectify this, we went to convenience stores (here, they're called "night shops") and bought our own booze. The parade didn't begin for a couple of hours but signs of partying (read: soggy confetti-laden avenues) were everywhere (read: on my shoes).


I've never seen so many interesting characters. Perhaps the most humorous aspect of the environment was the presence of small children.


Aaaaaaaaaand let the orange tossing commence! My friends were great victors.


Morgan


Tom, Ashley and Matt


Tom

Ryan

One of my friends gave me an orange. I gave it to this girl in exchange for a fist-full of confetti.



After I stuffed my face with pasta and (drum roll please) my first Belgian Waffle (yes, they're as flipping delicious as they said they would be...), it was time to go home. I fell asleep on the train and my friends took incriminating photos which you will not find here.

All in all, the Carnival de Binche was citrus-fruit-tastic, and an overall BLAST.

Hope all is well with you, my darling reader. I'm off to help Kathleen with supper.



With love and orange rinds,
Lauren

Sunday, February 3

Bruges... Whoa...

Hi all,

Saturday's trip was to Bruges... what an incredible city. Every time I turned around there was a breathtaking piece of artwork to photograph-- a building, a street lamp, a statue. It is a fairy tale city with the most intricate, whimsical details... even their trees are gorgeous, twisted artwork...



Everything about Bruges demands attention and reverence; it was overwhelming and beautifully intoxicating. We went through a few museums, much much faster than I would have liked, but there's time to return. I just know those who visit me will love this city. I can't wait to go back.

Just before I gave my oral presentation for class, we all climbed this incredible belfry.


Think of the stairs in a lighthouse, how tightly coiled and steep they are, then multiply that by oh, I don't know, a million. More like a trillion. It was so intense. (I really wish I could have taken a photo of the tower's interior but it was like a flipping race to get to the top.)


Yeah, that's about right. On some parts of the trek, there was a railing but it was more or less a rope you had to hang on to so you didn't get vertigo and tumble down. Near the top, the steps were more of a ladder-- that's how steep they were. Good god. It was intense, and I sound like a wuss, but it was intimidating. The view from the top was well worth it... see for yourself:


Needless to say after the hike down, I was disoriented. Don't worry, I was still able to deliver my stimulating presentation on the Medieval Wool Cloth Industry.

We went through some cathedrals as well. Stained glass... oooh....


The canals and rivers, which I hope to explore more on the next visit, basically make Bruges the Venice of Belgium. I didn't get to see too much of the city-canals, but here is some water to prove I'm not lying.


Those of you with Facebook-- I posted a lot a lot a lot of shots up there (I went through two sets of batteries for my camera on this trip alone!) so feel free to check them out. This here is just a small taste of one of the most unbelievable cities I've ever seen.

Upcoming Tuesday looks promising... this is on the agenda. Oranges, anyone?

Other upcoming trips include Ghent and Amsterdam... I'm not posting in this thing nearly as much as I anticipated but hopefully these small updates are to your liking.

Hope all is well! I miss you guys very much.

Love,
Lauren