From Munich, we traveled south, out of the Alps and the rain and into Italy, where the weather reminded me of SoCal: Hot, without a cloud in the sky. Ahhh...I had been missing sunshine and was sick of wet sandals. I would've worn shoes, but I fucking HATE shoes. It took us most of the day to get to Venice, but the scenery was goregous, vineyards as far as the eye could see.
Before I left for Europe, I was most excited for Venice. The idea of a city built on water has always intrigued me. And all in all, it's an amazing sight. This was clearly a city that was the center of the world at one point. The place reeks of age, although to be fair, it may have been really dirty water from the canals. It's interesting being in a place where the city itself is the main attraction. Had I been alone, I would've been content wandering around the narrow streets for hours, but were were only there for an evening, and I really didn't want to get so lost that I couldn't find my way back, which would've undoubtedly happened. Instead, a bunch of us tread the beaten path, seeing a few sights and eating copious amounts of gelato. On one of the main bridges that overlooks the Grand Canal, some clever soul had scrawled "ASSFACE" onto an old brick building.
We all reconvened for a evening gondola ride, most of us bearing bottles of wine, myself included. It is my belief that there are some things in life that one must do, and drinking wine on a gondola in Venice is certainly one of them. As romantic as the city is, it was kind of a bummer to be drinking the wine without the company of a lovely woman, but after the bottle was finished, I wasn't too worried about it. The windows of crumbling buildings stared out at us as we floated by, vacant and abandoned, as if imploring us to remember what they looked like in better days. Our gondolier was dressed in the classic striped shirt, but the magic was a little spoilt by his being on a cell phone for the entire time. Venice is eroding, in all senses of the word.
Afterwards, a group of about 5 of us found a affordable restaurant that wasn't too crowded and had a proper Italian dinner while the evening settled around us, taking our time, and enjoying more wine. Kirk had mentioned something during dinner about wanting to buy a suit of armor, and on our way back from dinner we passed by a shop that appeared to sell things of that ilk, so I tried with all the big-brother persuasiveness I could muster to get him to at least buy a sweet medieval helmet, even though it was over 350 dollars. I assured him that he would get plenty of use out of it in college, but his stubbornness (read: cheap) won out in the end. MJ the tourguide had assured us that the boat back to shore would not wait for late people, so we made our way back to the meeting point with plenty of time, although we were slowed down considerably by people hawking fake designer purses. They're everywhere, with their shitty merchandise clogging an already crowded walkway, and although I knew it was the wine, I was severely tempted to kick a couple faux-gucci handbags into the sea.
Looking back, I wouldn't say that Venice lives up to the hype. This isn't to say it's a crappy city, or that I didn't like it, because I did, but I guess I just bought into the overly romanticized reputation it has a little too much. Maybe I'm just hard to please.
Friday, August 3, 2007
Day 4: Prost!
While traveling to Munich, we stopped at one of the side-shop-eatery places that spring up every few hundred miles all through Europe. They're usually fairly big places, made to accommodate large batches of bus travelers during high travel season. There aren't tons of fast food places everywhere like in the states, so instead, all the tourist money goes straight to one place that offers decent food, high prices, long bathroom lines (for the ladies) and tons of souvenirs. This isn't really of any note, but I spent so much time in them over the course of the trip that I felt it deserved mentioning.
Anyway, on our way to Munich, we stopped at one such place, which in addition to the cafeteria had a Burger King. Normally, I wouldn't have even noticed, except that they had a large sign urging everyone to upgrade their meal to a large...which was translated to "MAKE IT MAXI!" for some reason. This, of course, made me laugh, and so as we were leaving to get back on the bus, I snapped a picture. I had made it a few steps out of the place when the Burger King manager ran out and started pointing at me, looking pretty pissed off, saying "You take picture?" I told him yes, and he told me "No, not legal, delete!!" I generally try to avoid being a typical arrogant american, so I immediately complied. However, as I was walking away, I heard the guy mutter "I should have him arrested." It was a beautiful lesson in human nature: no matter your race, color, nationality or creed, if you're a low-level manager at a fast food chain, you're a douchebag.
We arrived in Munich around 6 in the evening, pretty much leaving us enough time to have dinner and then go drink at the HofBrau House, which is apparently the most famous beer hall in Germany. We tried to get a table in HofBrau immediately so as to maximize our drinking time, but it was incredibly full. We were all hungry, and given that HofBrau serves their beer in ONE LITER mugs, I felt it prudent to put something in my stomach to absorb all the beer I was . Instead, I had Wiener Schnitzel, which I ordered simply because I couldn't believe that it was an actual dish, and also because I was kinda hoping that it was a hot dog. It's not. Instead, it's breaded/fried pork, a heart-stopping delight. Full and ready to drink, we went over to HB and, with a little luck, scored a table.
Hofbrauhaus is exactly what you'd think an old German beer hall is-- long, wooden tables, hot women selling large pretzels, and that great German drinking music that makes you feel more inebriated than you actually are. There are only three types of beer there: Lager, Dark, and another concoction that's half beer-half lemonade, which I guess is the German equivalent of a chick drink. I don't often feel a part of any ethnicity, but here I felt more like I was coming home than visiting for the first time.
There are a few rules for drinking at the Hofbrauhaus, and none of them are posted, so just in case, here's what you never do: Yell or sing loudly. MJ the tourguide informed us of this, which made it really fun to watch as a bunch of Aussies broke into some Australian song, only to have a very large, very scary looking German man who was dressed like a Secret Service agent walk over to their table, put a catchers mitt sized paw on the loudest, drunkest one, forcing him to sit down. Mr. Beer Security then put one finger to his lips and walked away. Germans are fucking serious about their beer. So much so that they have stringent laws regarding brewing, which include the outlawing of preservatives. This is great, because that's what causes hangovers. To toast, simply raise your glass (which can be difficult--a liter of beer is heavy) say "Prost!" and then maintain eye contact as you drink. Breaking eye contract or not toasting back is very rude. I could only put down 2 mugs worth of beer (schnitzel is very, very filling) which, by the way, was absolutely delicious, probably the best lager i've ever had.
Anyway, on our way to Munich, we stopped at one such place, which in addition to the cafeteria had a Burger King. Normally, I wouldn't have even noticed, except that they had a large sign urging everyone to upgrade their meal to a large...which was translated to "MAKE IT MAXI!" for some reason. This, of course, made me laugh, and so as we were leaving to get back on the bus, I snapped a picture. I had made it a few steps out of the place when the Burger King manager ran out and started pointing at me, looking pretty pissed off, saying "You take picture?" I told him yes, and he told me "No, not legal, delete!!" I generally try to avoid being a typical arrogant american, so I immediately complied. However, as I was walking away, I heard the guy mutter "I should have him arrested." It was a beautiful lesson in human nature: no matter your race, color, nationality or creed, if you're a low-level manager at a fast food chain, you're a douchebag.
We arrived in Munich around 6 in the evening, pretty much leaving us enough time to have dinner and then go drink at the HofBrau House, which is apparently the most famous beer hall in Germany. We tried to get a table in HofBrau immediately so as to maximize our drinking time, but it was incredibly full. We were all hungry, and given that HofBrau serves their beer in ONE LITER mugs, I felt it prudent to put something in my stomach to absorb all the beer I was . Instead, I had Wiener Schnitzel, which I ordered simply because I couldn't believe that it was an actual dish, and also because I was kinda hoping that it was a hot dog. It's not. Instead, it's breaded/fried pork, a heart-stopping delight. Full and ready to drink, we went over to HB and, with a little luck, scored a table.
Hofbrauhaus is exactly what you'd think an old German beer hall is-- long, wooden tables, hot women selling large pretzels, and that great German drinking music that makes you feel more inebriated than you actually are. There are only three types of beer there: Lager, Dark, and another concoction that's half beer-half lemonade, which I guess is the German equivalent of a chick drink. I don't often feel a part of any ethnicity, but here I felt more like I was coming home than visiting for the first time.
There are a few rules for drinking at the Hofbrauhaus, and none of them are posted, so just in case, here's what you never do: Yell or sing loudly. MJ the tourguide informed us of this, which made it really fun to watch as a bunch of Aussies broke into some Australian song, only to have a very large, very scary looking German man who was dressed like a Secret Service agent walk over to their table, put a catchers mitt sized paw on the loudest, drunkest one, forcing him to sit down. Mr. Beer Security then put one finger to his lips and walked away. Germans are fucking serious about their beer. So much so that they have stringent laws regarding brewing, which include the outlawing of preservatives. This is great, because that's what causes hangovers. To toast, simply raise your glass (which can be difficult--a liter of beer is heavy) say "Prost!" and then maintain eye contact as you drink. Breaking eye contract or not toasting back is very rude. I could only put down 2 mugs worth of beer (schnitzel is very, very filling) which, by the way, was absolutely delicious, probably the best lager i've ever had.
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