Waffles! Beer! Chocolate! ... BELGIUM!

Over the channel and through a couple countries (a tiny bit of France and the Netherlands)… to Germany and Belgium we go!

The excuse to travel this week was a USAFE (US Air Force Europe) soccer tournament in Wiesbaden, Germany.  Chris got permission to play at the last minute and so we decided to drive there (more economical than a last-minute flight).  Drive?  Isn’t England an island?  The two ways to get a car to mainland Europe are to drive through the channel tunnel, or Chunnel (way more expensive but faster) or spend two hours on a car ferry.  The 100£ difference made it an easy decision, as we’re trying to fit in a lot of traveling on, oh, half the income we’re used to.  LOL.  We don’t really mind bumming it but if someone wants to donate a million bucks to our travel fund we could certainly use it!  Anyway, the ferry was easy and comfortable: you just park in rows, get out of the car and wait out two hours in whatever area of the ferry suits your fancy (in the café, duty free shop, casino, etc). 

View from the ferry on the return to England.

We landed at about ten at night and BAM, the peace and calm of the ferry evaporated as everyone hopped back in their cars, started them pretty much in unison, and then shot off the gangplank straight on to a French highway.  Holy stress moly. With its continent worth of maps, the GPS takes a solid five minutes to boot so that was no help.  We were in our UK spec (steering wheel on the right) car but now driving BACK on the American side of the road.  Talk about confusing! Now we have to stay on the right again?!  Since neither of us has ever taken French (or Dutch or anything but Spanish really) the road signs meant absolutely nothing to us.  We just stared at them and hoped they didn’t read “no entry” or “wrong way” or “stop, you idiot.”  PLUS it was completely dark and pouring rain!  Thank God Chris likes, and is good at, driving.  I would’ve pulled over and cried, but he saw humor in the ridiculousness of it all and just started singing out loud (I married the one person who sings worse than I do) and making up ridiculous meanings for the signs we passed by.  Love him for it!

The GPS kicked in, the rain calmed down, and we drove a couple hours more, slept about 4 hours in a crappy motel, and then made it to Wiesbaden, Germany by nine the next morning.  I’m really not sure what was more fun to witness – the games themselves or the shenanigans that that took place afterwards.  The guys played seven games over four days (ouch) and Chris scored six goals! He had so much fun.  The tournament organizers offered each team the use of a large apartment in a building that was to be demolished soon.  Adventure Number Two was staying in an empty (no microwave, oven, fridge, etc) 5 bedroom apartment with 16 guys, mostly in their early 20’s, and one other wife.  Is this what a frat house is like?  They managed to consume an astounding amount of beer and were for the most part a really entertaining bunch of people. 

Their version of body armour and eye protection while attempting to break into a champagne bottle... 

On Saturday the guys were done with games by noon so Chris and I headed a half hour west to Frankfurt.  We walked around for a few hours, had a Starbucks (don’t judge me, it’s been months!), and did some window shopping.  A surprising favorite part of Frankfurt was this bridge covered in locks engraved with sweethearts’ names and wedding dates.  

Thousands of locks lining the bridge.

Is that not the sweetest tradition?  My heart went all melty.  For dinner we followed the advice of a guide book and walked to Adolf Wagner, a restaurant famous for its apfelwein (apple wine - the countryside around Frankfurt is full of apple trees!)   We pushed through the door into the warmth of a cozy, bustling restaurant.  A waiter saw us and jabbed at two empty seats at a large round wooden table where two other couples were already seated. Not what we’re used to at a restaurant in the States!  The other two couples were German, but lucky for us one of the women spoke fluent English (and Spanish and Italian – so impressive).  We ordered apfelwein to try, of course.  It’s not cider, not really wine, not bubbly or sweet, just yeasty and a bit sour – maybe an acquired taste?  For food we had handkaese, a regional sour milk cheese covered in onions served with fresh rye bread and a ‘knuckle of pork’ with buttery potatoes.  Dessert was a piece of fresh ginger bread from a street vendor on the walk back to the car.  All in all it was a wonderful day! 

After the last game Sunday (the guys placed third) we packed up and drove to Brussels, Belgium for the second part of this vacation.  I always thought the autobahn was a particular road but nein! It’s the German interstate system.  Cars really do routinely fly by at 110+ mph until the towns, when an 81 mph speed limit is enforced.  It didn’t take very long to get to Brussels J

Brussels was… okay.  It’s an important business center, and the European Union and NATO are both headquartered there, but it really didn’t seem tourist friendly.  Driving was a nightmare, we almost died multiple times.  The two things Brussels is really known for are the Manneken Pis, a one-foot statue of a little kid peeing into a fountain (a bit strange), and the Atomium, an iron atom magnified 165 billion times, built for the 1958 World Fair (also a bit strange). 

Mannekin Pis

hehe

Atomium     Brussels, Belgium

Our two favorite parts of Brussels were its stunning main square and a bar called Cafe Delirium, which holds the Guinness Book of World Record for the most beers commercially available.  Last they checked there were over 2000; the “menu” is a book!  We ordered four beers total, each completely unlike the others.  The first was Duchesse de Bourgogne, a Flemish red ale aged in an oak barrel for 18 months (and only 3 Euro!).   It was really different than any other beer I’ve tasted – really fruity and a bit sour.  The second was a local ale that was really nice.  The third was from Cuba and I’m not kidding tasted just like honey.  Number four was also on draft and was a “quadruple” dark beer called Buffalo, also really tasty.  Belgians are really serious about the glass in which each beer is served, and the brew master actually chooses the glass design for each beer he creates. 

shopping arcade

lovely central square

Delirium Cafe 'menu' of beers!

de Cuba

at Delirium Cafe, Brussels Belgium

From Brussels we drove an hour to Bruges, Belgium.  Bruges is an amazingly intact medieval town, complete with cobbled streets, a river that wanders throughout, grand churches, and a cute town center.  It was romantic and inviting, definitely a little touristy (expensive) but just sweet. 

Bruge, Belgium - too cute!

wall of beer

The next day was rainy and cold so we opted for a brewery tour (sorry to the non-drinkers;  Belgium seems centered on beer and food).  The tour of De Halve Maan (the half moon) brewery  was the best tour I’ve ever taken, of anything.  The guide was passionate, informative, and hilarious!  It’s a must-do for anyone visiting Bruges. 

Brewery tour guide

the Belgians take their glasses seriously!

Before leaving Belgium, we had to partake in one of its namesake waffles!  Fresh, hot, with melted Belgium chocolate, sliced strawberries, and ice cream on top… heaven. 

It was a great trip but we are really happy to be home!

The French Riviera Area

Say that out loud a couple times fast!  This weekend we flew Ryanair, a discount European airline, for the first time.  Ryanair has a ton of flights out of London Stansted airport which at only 45 minutes away is really convenient for us.  We found super cheap tickets to the south of France, so off we went to Marseille and Nice! 

 I hate to say it, but Marseille struck us as unpleasant, acrid, grimy, brown (other than the graffiti which was pervasive), and just really freaking windy.  The town grew on us, though, mostly because of the most amazing dinner experience we’ve had in years.   Food and emotion are definitely intertwined, aren’t they?  We rarely (maybe annually) go out to an expensive dinner but my grandma recently sent a surprise check with ‘my share’ of her gambling winnings. HA!  She has this uncanny ability to outsmart the nickel slots.  She and my Dziadzia gamble maybe twice a year and she always wins, insisting it’s because she splits the winnings amongst us four grandkids.  Grandma doesn’t approve of spending the money on practical things, so she’ll be excited to hear we splurged on dinner!  All that said, Restaurant Carmino didn’t have an English menu, nor did anyone work there who could speak more than a few words of English, so after about twenty hilarious minutes of food and wine charades (it took a while to figure out ‘sea urchin’) we ordered homemade linguini dishes,we think one with a seafood medley and the other with smoked caviar.  They both were absolutely delicious and went perfectly with the bottle of pinot noir we somehow ordered.  The only cultural ‘oops’ was that we started to put fresh parmesan on the dishes and were emphatically told NEVER to put cheese on seafood dishes.  Honestly after our waiter's look of horror I don’t think I ever will again.  Dinner service didn't even start until 8:30, so after spending a few hours ooing and ahhing over dinner we had a sketchy metro ride back to the hotel and were just really glad to be there safe and sound!



Marseille, France



Vieux Harbor, the Cathedral of Notre Dame atop the hill

From the Cathedral of Notre Dame, looking out at Chateu d'If (famous from Dante's Count of Monte Cristo)

Ah, graffiti

Marseille and Nice in the South of France

Early the next morning we took a 2.5 hour train ride to Nice ('niece') which is the largest city of the French Riviera (aka Cote de Azure).  Wow, could the cities be any different?!  Nice was grand, colorful, vibrant, and charismatic. Although it sits on the same Mediterranean Sea, the landscape, water, and weather were completely different than Marseille.  The foothills of the Alps come almost to the water, apparently blocking the wind and keeping the area much warmer than the rest of France.  The water was stunningly blue and the beaches, although pebbly, were pleasant to lie on to catch some rays.  We spent the majority of the afternoon just lounging, swimming, and laughing at all the (not so pleasant) boobs on display. 

Beautiful flower, vegetable, and olive market



Chris enjoying the water.




Look at that blue water! Lovely Nice, France.



The rest of the day was spent window-shopping.  Our bank account would’ve taken a hit if bad influences like my buddy Brett or mom had been around (those boots are an investment at 1200 Euro, right?)!   Every high street store you can imagine was represented in a big, expensive way, and it was really pleasant to just walk hand-in-hand with my honey taking it all in. 



Nice's central plaza




Aw, one picture together at least!



In the evenings, huge swatches of the city become pedestrian-only and colorful strands of light hang across the streets.  The city felt even more alive at night (a Sunday night, no less!).  All in all, we were enamored and would love to go back to the French Riviera for an extended vacation in the future to explore Monaco, Cannes, and St. Tropez, tour the local olive oil factory, and hike the Alps’ foothills.  We were sad to leave Monday to start the trip back to England but my very French friend Rick Hammond will be pleased to know we ate chocolate croissants for breakfast to sneak in just a little more French-ness before we left!

Nice's train station

PS:  Seemingly everyone smokes, all the time.  And they smoke Marlboros!  I seriously wonder what the lung cancer rates are in France. 

PPS: Hammer pants are making a comeback, at least in France.  I would never have thought it could happen...  could massive shoulder pads be next?

Ironman, yikes

There are fruit trees everywhere in this country!   We had already picked every single apple from the little tree in our backyard, so we got excited when one of our English neighbors popped a sign in their front yard: “10 pounds apples for 1£”.  Chris, our corer/peeler/slicer gizmo, and I spent the better part of an evening working on the 40 pounds of apples we bought.  Haha!  The vast majority of slices went into the freezer for future crumbles/cakes/pies (if that’s not motivation to visit us, nothing is), but some were used in a gingery butternut squash and apple soup (yum), some roasted with winter root veggies (yum), and some just eaten plain or given to neighbors. 

Toasted Stilton cheese bread with gingery butternut squash and apple soup.

Please call us ambitious instead of crazy (debatable); we committed to the Ironman distance triathlon in Regensburg, Germany next June 17^th.  Not two months ago I said I’d “never do an Ironman” but then something clicked and it was all I could think about.   Chris didn’t want me to suffer alone, so signed up as well with the intention that we’ll go through the whole thing together.  Our goal is to finish in 15 hours, although really the goal is to just finish, period.   We’ve truly spent most of our free time these past few weeks obsessing over every part of the race, buying race-related equipment/books, and talking to any and everyone about racing and training.   Oh yeah, and starting to train!  We’ve actually been really blessed with great support groups here:  a running club with great trainers, a really strong cycling club, and other active duty families who are so, so welcoming and sweet.  I’m biased, of course, but the wives especially are fantastic!  They’re always throwing parties, brunches, cookouts, etc. 

Maybe it’s the (completely relative) lack of traveling these past couple weeks but I’ve been so, so homesick for Little Rock.  The Big Dam Bridge 100 bike ride is a huge part of Little Rock cycling culture and it (oh so selfishly) stunk to see all our friends’ Facebook updates about how great of a ride it was and to know that life really does go on without you.  This is a perfect opportunity (for the millionth time) to apologize to Cara and Sarah for my terribly snide remarks about Arkansas when I met them my first year of optometry school (lesson is: know thy audience).  Now they just think it is hysterical that not only did I end up living in Arkansas because Chris was stationed there but I absolutely fell in love with it.  I can just picture other people reading this blog who have never lived there thinking “my God, what could she have loved about Hicksville” but am pretty sure that Arkansas natives actually spread those rumors so no one from California tries to move in! 

We are about to start an absolute traveling BINGE that goes from tomorrow until Thanksgiving, so lots of blogs to follow.  We leave for Marseille and Nice, France tomorrow!  Exciting!