European Superlatives

Well, that’s a wrap, folks. We ended our Euroventure, and moved back to San Francisco this month (well, Berkeley to be precise), chock full of experiences and the memories to last us a lifetime.

To remind ourselves when we're grey and and hunched, we came up with 80 Superlatives from our time in Europe. We recognize it’s a long list – at the very least, please skip to the end for the grand finale!

Here goes. 

Location oriented

1. Best City to Visit: Paris – the City of Lights!

2. Worst City to Visit: Vienna – mneh, it just wasn’t…

3. Best city to do work on a Thursday of a long weekend trip: London. So many cafes, so much wifi.

4.  Most Christmasy Christmas market: Lake Como, with a giant snow scene projected onto the town square

5. Number of countries visited: 18

6.  Nicest people: Easy win – the Scots

7. Cities we could call home in the future: Copenhagen, London, Edinburgh, maybe Chamonix

8. Most random and most satisfying place to visit: Kalundborg

The background here is that Sarah did her undergraduate thesis on Danish renewable energy policy, featuring an entire chapter on this town in northwestern Denmark. Kalundborg is one of the world’s best examples of industrial ecology, where one company’s waste is utilized as another company’s input. Here, pipes all over town lead from one facility to another.

9. Most common Goose camping spot: Chamonix (15 nights!)

10. Most frustrating thing about Paris: dogs not allowed in parks. Also, the grass in parks is off-limits to humans. What are parks for then, if not dogs or bare feet? 

11. Most frustrating thing about Munich: everything is closed aaaaalllll of the time. Sundays, forget it. But also evenings, and sometimes seemingly afternoons and mornings.

12. Best use of being in Europe: tie! We trekked to both of our paternal, ancentral roots. On the Zisa side, we visited the Piedmont region and Sicily in Italy. On the Penndorf side, we made it to Landshut and Leipzig in Germany, and Graz Austria

13. Least enjoyable negotiating: the Souks of Morrocco

14. Best concert hall: KKL in Lucerne

Event oriented

15. Most underrated occurrence: Sarah’s miracle driver’s license.

To get a German driver’s license, you need to pass a VERY extensive written test (in English, but seriously, it’s a hard test) and a behind-the-wheel in German. We entered Sarah into the queue to start this whole process, even though she didn’t speak German, and when we went back to the Munich DMV to check on the status, lo-and-behold, they had simply authorized her driver’s license without any tests. Miracle? German kindness? Or mistake? Don’t ask…just drive!

16. Worst photo: Sarah’s German driver’s license mug shot… taken when she thought she had to take all of the aforementioned tests.

16. Worst photo: Sarah’s German driver’s license mug shot… taken when she thought she had to take all of the aforementioned tests.

17. Nearest experience to death: the time Truffle got bit by a viper snake while we were hiking in the mountains

18. Best hike: any that ended at a mountain hut.

Second place: the one backpacking trip we took, which ended up posting our tent right where Sarah is standing in this photo

19. Best running route (local): Our loop around the Isar River in Munich.

20. Best running route (non-local): Even though we were disappointed overall (see: #2) by Vienna, they have a big, dog-friendly trail system

21. Best music festival: Rock en Pomme, on a small apple farm in rural Normandy

When Dave’s 22 year old colleague heard we were en route to Normandy for the weekend, he invited us to a local farm’s second annual let’s-have-friends-over-and-good-bands-and-sell-beer-and-it’ll be-fun-for-everyone-festival. No one spoke English, but it didn’t matter. People camped under trees, rocked to some French music, jammed into the wee hours, and ate delicious food.

22. Best concert: Front Country in France

23. Best car camping spot: Isle of Skye, Scotland (before the attack of the midges)

24. Worst car camping spot: Isle of Skye, Scotalnd (after the attack of the midges)

25. Most surprising touristy event that kicks ass: Oktoberfest

26. Sarah’s first German words: Ziegenkäse (goat cheese) and Scharfkäse (sheep cheese)

Observation oriented

27. Most surprising thing(s) about cows: they’re mountainous, they’re way faster than they look, sometimes those dough eyes turn aggressive, they’re musical (bells!), and they sound like dinosaurs at night

28. Most bizarre sign: “No Drones” on a hiking trail marker in Spain

29. Coolest discovery: hut culture

30. Most aggravating German phrase: “it’s impossible” when, in fact, it’s actually very possible.

31. Fastest internet: darn near anywhere in Europe, including any home internet and the LTE on our phones

Food oriented

32. Best croissant: Ble Sucre in Paris

33. Best beer: difficult tie - Copenhagen, Lisbon, Edinburgh microbrews

34. Best soup: Suppenkuchen in the Viktualienmarkt

35. Best sauerkraut: Sarah’s stand that she went to for all fruit/veggies, also in Viktualienmarkt

36. Best Kaiserschmarmm: Frauenhofer

37. Best chocolate: tie

a.     the free Toblerones that hotels in Switzerland leave on your pillow.

b.     Modica from Sicily: unheated cocoa beans that retain the grit and nutritional value of the natural plant

38. Best Brezn (Pretzel): Hofbrauhaus (close second is… surprisingly… the Lufthansa lounge in the Munich airport)

39. Best milk: pour your own, straight from the cow, raw, 1 Euro for a liter, milk from a German side of the road farm

39. Best milk: pour your own, straight from the cow, raw, 1 Euro for a liter, milk from a German side of the road farm

40. Recipe Sarah needs to get: Obazda

41. Best ice cream (excluding gelato from Italy): our spot in Munich [we dont even know what it's called]

42. Best meal: home cooked Meyers pasta

43. Best restaurant meal: raclette in Chamonix for Christmas Eve

This is the way to do Raclette right: the hot coals on the right melt the cheese block, while you use the flat spatula thingy to scrape the cheese over your potatoes onto your plate.

This is the way to do Raclette right: the hot coals on the right melt the cheese block, while you use the flat spatula thingy to scrape the cheese over your potatoes onto your plate.

Money oriented

44. Best purchase: Grey Goose!

45. Best purchase for the Grey Goose: outdoor shower

46. Best purchase under $10: Sarah’s antique sauerkraut pot bought off the German Craigslist

47. Most obnoxiously expensive place: Switzerland. Think 20 EUR basic salad.

48. Best bargain in Europe: artisanal French baguette for 90 cents

49. Most overpriced item in Germany: water at restaurants

Skiing oriented

50. Best cross-country skiing that formally allows dogs: Davos

51. Best cross-country skiing where Sarah took Truffle: St Anton

52. Best ski resort within 90 minutes of Munich: Kitzbühel

53. Best ski resort within 3 hours of Munich: St Anton (reminder, Tahoe is 4 hours from SF)

54. Best ski sleeping spot: St Christophe, behind the municipal green power center

55. Worst ski season in the Alps: this year, with a close second being last year (wah wah)

Visitor oriented

56. Best visitors: tie! Lee, Lauren/Patrick/Clara, Patty/Frank, Brittney/Lief, Lindsey/Matt, Donna/Peter, Nick/John, Courtney/Pat, Jenny/Ryan/Weston, Mama Penndorf, Janey/Ben, Rose, Johannes, & Marselle/Tim

57. Best activity with a guest: Sorry Oktoberfest, this one goes to tobogganing with two-year-old Weston

57. Best activity with a guest: Sorry Oktoberfest, this one goes to tobogganing with two-year-old Weston

58. Nearest miss: Michael, who arrived in Chamonix 6 hours after we left...but fear not, 6 months later met up with him in Cham (he likes that place too)

59. Most distant cousins whom we didn’t know existed prior to our move but who live 45 minutes away from Munich: Family Scheffler (Annette and Dave have the same great-great grandfather; in other words, their grandfathers were cousins)

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The extended Penndorf family in Munich

Munich oriented

60. Most grumpy Europeans: Bavarians

61. Most obvious #GermanInefficiency: scheduling a visit to the doctor for the sole purpose of getting vaccination booster shots, and upon arrival being told, “oh, we don’t carry those” and then having to go purchase the vaccinations yourself

62. Most unreasonable time Sarah got yelled at: it was her fault that a doctor couldn’t find a vein when getting blood drawn

63. Best place to get flowers: Cut-yourself farms

64. Best biergarten: Zum Flaucher 

65. Best summer activity in Munich: beach-like atmosphere by the river (with or without clothes)

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66. Most surprising attire: Hmm, this is close. One) that Bavarians wear dirndls and lederhosen as nice attire (think: weddings), and Two) French rouge is a real thing. All times of the day, all ages, all occasions: Parisians love red lipstick always.

Potpourri

67. Most annoying thing about the Goose: the batteries being mostly dead, but Volkswagen checking them while still under warranty and saying they’re completely fine

68. Biggest regrets:

a.     Sarah: her haircut in Munich (you don’t cut curly hair wet! ever!)

b.     Dave: not visiting Jenny/Ryan or Shirin/Lee one last time

69. Best view: Eiffel tower twinkling from our Paris apartment

We had to climb on a chair, but then we got this view of Paris. Hard to tell from a photo, but right in front of us were Notre Dame, Arc de Triumph and Mr Eiffel's Tower, sparkling every night at 10pm, 11pm and midnight

We had to climb on a chair, but then we got this view of Paris. Hard to tell from a photo, but right in front of us were Notre Dame, Arc de Triumph and Mr Eiffel's Tower, sparkling every night at 10pm, 11pm and midnight

70. Best work spot: Tushita Tea House

71. Truffle’s best friend: Mango, the yellow lab of our downstairs neighbors from Michigan

72. Most changed from living in Europe: Truffle!

Why? She got a new diet (raw red meat!) which means better digestion, harder poop, more tail wagging

73. Longest nights slept in a row in the Goose: 11

74. Fastest the Goose drove on the Autobahn: 155km/h [96 mph]

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75. Fastest Dave drove on the Autobahn in a rental car: 185 km/h [114 mph] just after taking this picture (don't try photoing and driving at home, folks)

Home oriented

76. Best item brought from home: jumper cables (especially when Sarah is camping in the Goose with Michael and he swears that the battery can support leaving his phone plugged in all night)

77. Item most missed from home:

a.     Sarah: friends

b.     Dave: beard trimmer (Mat Loving, are you reading this…?)

78. Thing we’re least looking forward to about moving home: the daily commute into the city from Berkeley

79. Thing we’re most looking forward to about moving home: vegetables

Bonus:

80. Best souvenir we’re bringing home with us:

We’re pregnant with a baby boy, due in mid-March!!!

The Goose is Gone

Today, I drove to the Munich airport, met a family of 3 who flew in from France, and sold them our Grey Goose. They hardly spoke any english, so 99% of the transaction happened with google translate.

Saying goodbye to the Goose comes with various emotions that are hard to explain, so I'll go with Bittersweet. 16 months of figuring her out, all her nooks and crannies and things that did or didn't work - and we had just dialed it in. Truffy sure knew her well - a jump up into the backseat was surely a sign of adventure to come.

From the outermost tip of Scotland, to Siena Italy, and from the Pico de Europa national park in Spain, to Vienna Austria - and so so many places in between - the Goose did us well. At least 40 nights of vacation; another 30 or more from weekend trips.

Weston called it his Taxi. Clara called it, well she couldn't talk yet, but she seemed to enjoy it. Peter said it drove smoothly. Rose said it was an ok night of sleep living the #vanlife. My mom liked all of its features and had a fun overnight. Courtney and Pat napped. And as you know, we loved it.

Those of you worried about the financial loss due to depreciation and transactional costs, never fear, I calculated that we surely got the financial value out of the her that we put into it, let alone the net opportunity cost. 

We leave you, and us, with a photo slideshow.

[and, who knows what will come our way in the future]

-Dave

Auf Wiedersehen Munich...

When we left San Francisco, we knew in our hearts that the Bay Area is "home" so we always hoped to be back. Leaving Munich today, we don't have plans for Germany again. So this is a very different sort of goodbye.

Our year and half here has had its inspiring ups (kids playing in dirt!) and frustrating downs (grumpy Germans thinking they're always right). We've learned a lot about ourselves and about each other, even a surprising amount about Truffle. We've learned about another culture, about Dave's ancestry, what obazda is, every single one of Germany's driver license questions, and the feeling of Gemütlichkeit.

But it was time for us to go. With mixed emotions we spent the last month packing, cleaning, shipping, sorting, selling, tossing, and consuming the last of our goods we had here. Oh, and eating as much sauerkraut as physically possible.

Sunday we prepared a picnic and visited our favorite biergarten, Zum Flaucher, for the last time. Our last pretzel. Our last Bavarian beers.

We each left with tears in our eyes. This was a fun adventure. Munich, we'll miss you.

Our apartment is empty, we navigated the crazy strict move-out inspection, and we've said our final goodbye. 

Our apartment is empty, we navigated the crazy strict move-out inspection, and we've said our final goodbye. 

... AND NOW IT'S ON TO SUMMER IN PARIS!!!!! Dave will work from his company headquarters in a slow transition to a new role within his organization, Sarah will work on her croissant connoisseur merit badge, and Truffle will sniff more poodles per square mile than she ever knew existed.

More city and vanventures ahead. 

In search of Cesira

Nonna, as my dad and his siblings called her, was named Cesira Anarotoni. She's my Dad's, dad's mom. My great grandmother. 

We never met.  

Growing up, I didn't hear a lot of detailed family history, but the "Zisa" identity seemed pretty connected to Italy, and so, I did, too. I always knew that Grandpa's mom was from northern Italy near Asti - was this why Uncle Frank always served Asti Spumante at family holidays? - and his dad was from Sicily. Spending time in Italy exploring the country while we're living so nearby in Munich is important to me. So over Christmas, Dave and I took our Grey Goose on a three week road trip to do just that (but not all vacation... lots of remote working!). We spent four lovely days in Cesira's hometown area, Piedmont, including two days in Asti. This post covers Asti only; subsequent posts (hopefully) will cover the rest of Piedmont and the rest of our road trip.  

First, Asti is much bigger than I expected. I thought it would be a small, quaint little village. Turns out, there's a lot going on. There were chain stores, tattoo parlors, a mid-week farmer's market. And more cafes and coffee shops than I could count. Parts of it were a little gritty - that's the new, modern Asti. But there's also "old town" which is the picturesque Italian-scape you probably have in mind - narrow roads, tiny Italian cars squeezing down through-ways two inches wider than the vehicle, cobble stone streets. 

Asti is not on the tourist radar, so it has retained much of its character despite the boom of growing numbers of travelers to Italy. This means there was very little English, local prices (affordable!!!), and an authentic day-to-day vibe. While we couldn't read the menu without the help of Google Translate, we had The. Best. Meal our first night when we dropped into whatever restaurant was open, which happened to be Ristorante Pizzeria Monna Laura. Nothing fancy, but a killer brick-oven pizza, bottle of local wine, salad, and bowl of ribollita later, our bill was somewhere in the neighborhood of 20 euro. Little local gems like this are our favorite. 

Also, we had lunch at this locals' cafe. Totally memorable. 

The town is also filled with churches and old towers. Apparently, at one point in history, Asti was a prominent city, having built wealth and strategic importance as a central point of the trading route heading north from the Ligurian ports. We visited many of these churches on our self-made walking tour around town. They're beautiful, and majestic. A symbol of Asti's past.  

The most fun part of visiting Asti was going to the town archives in search of... well, anything about Cesira. No one could give me information about her while I was standing there, helplessly trying to communicate through an app on my phone and feeling like a total San Francisco tool. After 15 minutes, and finding someone who could communicate basics in English, I'm pretty sure I got my point across. The archives employee asked me to write my request down, and said she'd get back to me, but not in a hurry. I'm pretty sure she said 3-6 months. Italian time, ha. 

We planned a short trip, in-and-out. But Asti captured us with its authenticity and perhaps the subconscious feeling of family, so we extended our stay. After a few days walking around, thinking about my Dad and all my Zisa relatives, we hit the road and headed to small hill towns of Piedmont...stay tuned. 

Hütte culture of the Alps: A day hike to Coburger Hütte

As some of you might know, one of our absolute favorite things about living in Munich (and therefore, in close proximity to the Alps) is the hütte culture. Germans - and Germanic cultures like Switzerland, Austria, and northern Italy, are avid outdoors people. Importantly, though, they are also talented engineers and dedicated beer enthusiasts. So they've developed this incredible concept that combines all three of these things: the mountain huts (hütte auf Deutsch).

Basically, imagine a hiking trail in the middle of the biggest Alps-y mountains you can imagine. Then imagine a log cabin, then imagine that log cabin has picnic benches perfectly perched to soak up the sun and views, a full kitchen serving warm and usually hyper-local food, a bar with cold bier, water dishes for dogs, and sometimes even rooms to sleep. And these "cabins" are in the middle of the mountains, often on crazy peaks or on the side of ledges! It's wild and totally blew my mind when I realized just how awesome they are. Some of the hütten are an easy hike from a parking lot; others require ropes and technical climbing skills that Dave and I don't have.

The "thing to do" in the Alps is to schedule a hütte to hütte to hütte trip hiking between them. Since they're hotel-ish and all have food, you only need to carry clothes and personal items - easy backpacking! But the best hütten for these trips book up weeks, if not months, in advance and we never had our schedule together enough to plan that far in advance. It's definitely still on the bucket list, for this European adventure or another in the future. Instead, we did a few overnights at individual hütte (e.g., our Thanksgiving post), but mostly, our Grey Goose made it possible to sleep at or near a trailhead and then dayhike or trailrun to the hütte for lunch. Honestly, I can barely imagine a better weekend day.

The Coburger wasn't our first hütte, but a good representation of what such a weekend can look like: in the middle of July, we took the van, stationed her in the lot of a ski resort, and hiked up to Coburger in Austria. It was a little bit of a miracle that we made it; we mistakenly took a more technical route than we intended, but didn't realize until too late. The down hikers wearing helmets and harnesses should have been a clue... Ooops. But we made it. Although, this wasn't the last time we made that mistake - see forthcoming post about The Death March.

Bottom line: hütten will always be one of my favorite things about our time in Europe.  

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The next day, we took a trail run through the Ehrwald-Zugspitze region. The gondola helped us get up to the trails and views quicker, and Truff did great on her first ride.  

All this talk of Sweden

I can't think of less likely subject than Sweden to get caught in the middle of a Trump mess. But with all this talk, I'm inspired to make some progress digging our way out from the blog backlog and post some pictures from our magical five days sailing around the Stockholm archipelago with two gracious hosts, Adrienne and Erik. 

AP, as we lovingly call her, and Erik are Colorado residents. But Erik was born and raised in Sweden, and he still has some healthy ties with the country, namely his sailboat. They spent some quality time on the boat this summer, and since Dave and I were only a short flight away, we hopped on a United-miles-ticket and joined them for a long weekend. 

First, I want to acknowledge how awesome it is that in some corners of the job market today, many of us have the flexibility to design our own schedules and to work remotely. Don't get me wrong, I have responsibility and accountability, and I often work way too long or way too late at night. But the other side of that coin is that I have earned (Dave, too!) the trust of my boss, so we're in a lucky position to jet off to, say, Sweden, work for a day or two from a cafe, and then sail away for the weekend.

So that's what we did in mid-July.

We flew into Stockholm, and through a series of buses, taxis, and foot (all which Dave successfully and generously researched and planned), we landed at AP and Erik's home port of Saltsjöbaden. Dave and I worked for the day from a deck with a terrible view (see picture below), then eagerly made our way to their dock, hopped on board to Welcome brews, salmon, and the best gosh darn butter I have ever had. Literally. Seven months later, I'm still thinking about this stuff. Come to think of it, there is probably a Swedish grocery in Munich. 

Erik showed us the ropes (literally and figuratively). A sailboat is a mini, moving, floating house that doubles as transit. So everything has a purpose, a place, a process. It all makes sense, but it took some education for me and Dave to take in, and AP and Erik were kind enough to tell us twice if we forgot. 

The next day we set sail under Erik and AP's great co-captainship. The two of us didn't exactly do much in the way of "sailing" ourselves, but it was fun to watch the skill and experience of our hosts. My biggest claim to fame was pulling in the fenders quickly after launch so that we 1) set a good example, but 2) don't look like an ocean-equivalent of a gaper.

The next four days were filled with some of the most beautiful sunsets, lots of catching up, cold beer, plenty of gravlax, lots more Bregott, reading, stand-up-paddle-boarding, talking with strangers, arguing with strangers, and sauna. Lots of sauna.

Dave said he wasn't a sauna guy, but he sure seemed to be on this trip. On almost each rock island we stopped at, there was another little wooden structure, always built next to the water. Behind each sauna is an ax and huge piles of wood to be chopped - the heat comes directly from nature (after the local authorities drop off the wood). So in you go, and when you get too sweaty to stand it, out you go diving into the sea. Rinse and repeat: into the sauna you go again.

We ended the trip in an adorable Swedish vacation town called Sandhamn. If you ever find yourself in the Stockholm archipelago, this place will probably make your itinerary. And it should. If for no other reason than for the bread at a small village bakery, Sandhamns bageri.

Before this trip, I had mistakenly boxed sailing into a corner - that it was a leisure activity for the most elite. That it was the glamping of outdoor activities. But what I learned on this trip is that to sail the way AP and Erik sail, requires you to have a deep, connected relationship with the environment. You need to know not just your instruments, not just your tools, but you also need to know how to read maps, how to read the weather, how to read the way land and water interact. You need to be much more connected to earth, wind, and fire than I ever imagine. So for that alone, I'm grateful. 

I was also given insight into Swedish sailing culture. Parking at remote rocks far out in the ocean - or in a more formal setting is easier when people help. And if they're around, they hop out of their boat to help you navigate yours. Loading the wood-burning sauna with freshly cut logs is a community responsibility. Sharing is welcome, if not common. Living on the water in this nordic land can be as collaborative and community focused, or as individual and intimate, as you want. I digged it. 

Thank you to AP and Erik for letting us into your world for a hot minute. We adore you, and we treasure this trip. 

 

[Regretfully, we have no pictures of the sauna! Our memories alone will have to suffice.]

A Guest Post by Courtney

[Caveat: Courtney didn't actually write this. But we imagined this is what she would have said if she were the author.]

I’ll start by saying that I'm not actually thankful that Sarah and Dave moved to Europe because I miss them. But I am thankful that I got to visit, get a slice of their Euro adventure, see their life in Munich and around, and have some hearty, late-night catch up sessions with SBZ. 

As a real estate agent, I don’t always have to be in an office Monday-Friday, so you would think that finding time for a the trip would be easy. But of course, as a real estate agent, I also kind of always have to be nearby and available. So the spring turned into summer, and back to fall again, and I had no visit in sight. When Sarah pointed out that she and Dave were already contemplating their return, I had a look at the calendar. No way were they making it back here without me finding the time to visit. So: Thanksgiving! No one wants to buy or sell houses then, so it proved to be the perfect time. 

I packed my bag full of, well, mostly stuff that Dave’s family sent me to schlep over to Munich. Then off I went! But not alone - Sarah suggested I bring along my boyfriend, Pat, since she has fomo and hadn't yet met him. I was happily surprised by the invitation and that he quickly bit the bullet for a last-minute plane ticket and joined the fun.  

Pat and I left San Francisco without any real plan or agenda (Dave usually takes care of that - score!). We were pretty sure Sarah and Dave had mentioned the Dolomites. That's at least what we told our friends and family, but honestly, we had no idea. For our arrival, Dave had prepared us with classic Dave-style instructions (too long, too detailed). I landed a few hours ahead of Pat, so I took a bus then hopped in a cab per the instructions. And that's when it happened: my first true German experience - I got yelled at!!! Just like Sarah had been describing on the phone to me, about how Germans are rude and mean. Now I knew precisely what she's been talking about, and I felt a little bad for her / slash was a little impressed she's been able to tolerate it for so long.

After ditching the cab and lugging my heavy suitcase for like 45 minutes through dark streets of Munich, the fiasco was forgotten when all four of us were warm and cozy, German biers in hand, at an old, authentico restaurant near their house. If you’ve already visited them, you know what I’m talking about because apparently they bring all their guests here. It's their fave, and for good reason. To create an agenda for the next few days, Dave drew us a map of central Europe (Switzerland is landlocked? who knew!) and gave us options. He always has options.

Long story short, there was a Bluegrass "festival" in Munich the next night - yes! This is the perfect thing to do with Sarah and Pat (see photo below). So, we decided to stay a full day in Munich, see the town, then head to Italy.  

Staying in Germany for a day meant we could also finish that bottle of wine. 4am later, Sarah and I were deep into best-friending when we stumbled into bed. I was so happy that we could get get some solid 1:1 time together so quickly.

Oh, and the other best thing about the first day? The way Truffle greeted me when I arrived. She must have recognized my voice on the front door intercom and came jumping and sprinting to greet me at the elevator. It melted me. 

The next day, we got up late (very late) and we blamed it on jet lag - woops! Dave was out the door at 8am, doing whatever chores it is that he always has to do. Pat, Sarah, Truff, and I took a long, leisurely walk through her neighborhood, along the Isar River, and ended up in a super awesome market (Viktaulienmarkt). Sarah left for home (she had work calls, bah), so Pat and I got to explore Munich on our own. It didn't take long before we found the Hofbrauhaus, where we had a huge glass of... wine. Sssshhh. 

The next morning, we were off to our mountain hut adventure. Dave didn’t know too much about it, except that it was going to be a bit of a shit show to get to if we didn’t hurry.*

 

*We didn’t hurry, and it was a shit show.

We rented skis and got in the one of the last trams up a crazy steep mountain, probably one of the steepest mountains I have ever been up. We quickly were in dense fog and could barely see two feet in front of us. We called the hut, but reception was bad, and we were pretty confused after the vague instructions to download two chairs from the top. It was also freezing cold, the sun was setting, and the fog was thick and getting thicker. We figured, it's a hut on the ski mountain, so everyone will know where it is and be able to point us in the right direction. It can't be that bad, right? 

Sarah and I took off our skis began to download. Dave and Pat skied off into the clouds, with Truffle running behind. We immediately lost visual of them and we immediately feared for their lives. How were they going to ski down an unfamiliar mountain, with Truffle, in bad weather? I was nervous, and that got Sarah nervous, which got me even more nervous and her more nervous... 

We got off one chair and tried to get some guidance on where to go. But the lift ops didn't speak English, and we don't speak Italian, and no one seemed to have ever heard of our hütte. We rode down a second chairlift, hoping it was in the right direction, with still no sign of the boys. In camp-speak, this was definitely the trip low-light with max fear factor. The Polizia skied up to us - uh-oh...Well, it turns out that ski patrol in Italy are the "police" and they had safely escorted Pat, Dave, and Truffle most of the way down the mountain. Phew! In the end, it all worked out, we got to the hut (via snowcat, straight up a hill for 10 minutes), and all was good.

We were let in by Jasmine, who proved to be the simply The. Best. Host. Within minutes, we were sitting in front of an open fire, in a gorgeous mountain hut in the middle (quite literally) of the Italian Alps, with Italian wine, mountain cheese, and freshly sliced local ham. Everything was going to be alright.

An AMAZING meal later, we were stuffed and ready for bed. The hut’s bedrooms were very simple but beautiful with hardwood everything. But those damn European beds - two singles pushed together do not equal a queen. But, whatever. Everything at the hut was comfy and cozy, and since it was offseason, we had the place all to ourselves. It was like we rented a private cabin the mountains with personal chefs and a personal Jasmine.   

The hut is named Bella Vista. In German, “Schöne Aussicht.” This translates into “Beautiful View.” The next morning, without the fog and dark, we could see the vista. And indeed, it was very, very bella (see photos below).  

Then, we spent THANKSIVING skiing! The chairlift was a short 5 minute ski down the hill from the hut. We took the chair to the top, and whoa. The alps are impressive. They go on for ever and ever. And they're SO BIG. The conditions weren’t epic, but Pat and I really enjoyed ourselves - we were really IN the mountains, and I loved it. I felt really happy that day being outside with people I care about. 

We went back to the hut for the Thanksgiving feast to come. It wasn’t turkey and stuffing, but it was traditional Germanic Italian cuisine: pasta and knödel and locally raised beef. It was totally rich and very delicious. Plus, we had Kaiserschmarrn for desert! After dinner, we had a competitive game of Settlers (Dave won by a landslide - we all ganged up on him and he still beat us), and we toasted all the things for which we're grateful. It was a memorable and perfect friendsgiving. 

... Until I got sick with some sort of virus or food poisoning. The next day, the fog was back, I felt like crap, and I just wanted to get out of there. The boys skied down to the base with Truffle, but Sarah and I took the tram down. In the Grey Goose we went deeper into Italy; I passed out in the back trying to recover my energy.

While Pat and I slept, Sarah and Dave updated our plans from wine country. We were headed to Lake Como! Awesome, I thought. My parents talked about Lake Como, and I had always wanted to go but never made it. It was raining and that part sucked, but it didn't diminish our experience too much.

Pat and I booked a last minuted hotel, and Sarah/Dave/Truffle slept in their van in a money spot right next to the lake. On Saturday, Pat flew back to San Francisco (tear) but this meant I got to have some extra QT with Sarah (smile). After a walk to a bakery, Sarah and I took the train to Milan for some SHOPPING. Dave stayed at the lake, apparently working from the van (boring!), while the two of us walked around Milan. I scored a killer ITALIAN LEATHER JACKET. Sarah bought... wrapping paper. What? I don't know, I can't explain it either. Oh, and damn, that pasta lunch was something to write home about.

Back in Como, I got to experience a true Christmas Market! It was everything Sarah and Dave talked about. Full of cute wooden stalls, fun atmosphere, and mulled wine called gluhwein that is delicious. And it had a light show that was a unique experience. Definitely got me in the Christmas spirit. 

We got back to Munich after a fun drive through gorgeous Switzerland (4th country in 5 days!). For my last day, I got bonus Sarah time. We did some Christmas shopping around Munich, went for a really pretty run along the river, had some more gluhwein, and got to experience her day-to-day life a little bit more. 

All in all, I'd say that Munich is prettier than Sarah describes it. A mix of old and new, it feels very livable. But, she's right about the locals. And yes, there isn’t as much English speaking as Sarah thought before she moved. But it is cute, and clean, and safe, and close to so many epic destinations. 

I am Thankful for my friends, new and old.

A Weekend in Rome

We're trying to catch up on a back log of posts. It's been an unexpectedly busy few, actually 6, months, so we're starting all the way back in April. Hang with us!

So far, we haven't had a lot of visitors (save for the Haskins, Brittany & Leif, Lindsey & Matt, Peter & Donna), but back in April, we DID get a very important visit from the Meyers family - of Billy Meyers fame, one of Dave's closest friends. Well, we didn't get a visit to Munich exactly, but to the greater continent. So we'll count that. The Meyers clan had a family trip planned for a week in Rome to celebrate Tina's birthday (Tina is the matriarch of the Meyers family), so thanks to some United frequent flier miles, Dave and I hopped on a plane and joined them for a day touring around town and a delicious dinner then spent the rest of the weekend exploring The City of Love. It also helped that the Meyers were visiting Italy, original home of the Zisa. 

FRIDAY: DAY OF THE MEYERS

One of the reasons I love the Meyers family is that they appreciate good food as much as I do. We got up early and landed at 9am in Rome, so we met Billy and Jen (Billy's better marital half) in the heart of a true Roman open-air market, Campo de' Fiori, filled with fresh fruits and vegetables, fish, spices, pasta, and a few random other goods.  Turn around, and Tina is in the middle of negotiating with the local Grandma of the market, who was multi-tasking as she precisely and efficiently chopped up an artichoke in a matter of seconds. 

After dropping our groceries off, we grabbed coffee at Bartaruga, piled into a taxi, and headed straight for Saint Peter's Basilica in Vatican City. Whoa. This place is grand, and majestic, if busting at the seams with tourists. Tina pointed out little intricacies, like sites for Papal Masses, or all the statues on the colonnade and who they represent. Walking slowly through the church, the sense of history and importance is obvious. The tourists more interested in snapping pics and posting them quickly online made me annoyed, but I quickly realized this wasn't exactly a good place for judgement. Calm down, Sarah, you're a jew tourist here too! I spent a lot of time thinking about the architecture and formation of light, and the intentions of the original designers and builders. Were they wanting us to look up and think of heaven? Were they wanting us to feel small? Were they wanting the light to focus on them so they felt important? I also thought of my paternal grandma, Lillian Zisa, a devoted member of the Roman Catholic Church, and how a visit to this site would have been a spiritual moment for her in a way that it wasn't for me. That made me feel... voyeuristic. Undeserving to be there, even, when so many people around the world would be touched by this place in a way I wasn't. I could appreciate its history and importance, of course, but I wasn't moved like she would have been. I ended up feeling satisfied about my experience and lucky to be there, a place that connects a lot of the world through religion, tourism, history.  

After Saint Peter's, Jen, Catherine (Billy's younger sister), and I went shopping. Catherine was the only successful one of the bunch, but these two girls were some of the easiest, chillest, most pleasurable shoppers to hang with. No time pressure. No decision pressure. Just support and enthusiasm all around. 

Shopping was followed by a proper FEAST at the Meyer's apartment. Andrew (more loyal ski compatriot than Billy, also the oldest Meyers child) and Tina cooked up their treasures from the morning excursion to the market, and they succeeded with a bang: fresh pasta bolognese, fresh pasta with pesto, and a salad with crazy delicious curly-q bitter greens. Holy delicious. 

SATURDAY & SUNDAY: WEEKEND OF PENNDORFS

The Meyers all flew home the next day, so Dave and I had the city to ourselves for exploration. Upon Billy and Jen's recommendation, we ran up Parco del Gianicolo, and into another adjacent park. We took Rick Steve's free self-guided tour of the Colosseum and the Roman Forum. [Sidebar: Dave and I are HUGE fans of Rick's free self-guided tours. You get all the context and history you want, the freedom to do it on your own time - stopping for ice cream or beer or coffee as you please - and IT'S FREE! Highly recommend whenever traveling with a destination in his repertoire). 

On Sunday, we continued on the Rick Steve's tour theme, walking around the Jewish Ghetto and Trastevere, the neighborhood where we stayed. We punctuated almost every stop with gelato, and definitely became self-appointed experts pretty quickly. Dave liked to claim his quick assessment from Lauren's semester in Florence when she learned that you can tell everything about the quality of a gelato shop from the color of its banana flavor: yellow is fake / white or brown is real. The rule of thumb seems to hold true today! 

We wrapped up our weekend with a long walk along the river, talking about life and families and dreams and expectations, listening to street artists and watching college kids and adults smile for no good reason at all. Other than the fact that they're in Rome, a magnificent, authentic, visitor friendly, ancient city. 

 

 

The 10-18 Scavenger Hunt of Lisboa

For our second wedding anniversary (!!!), we went to Lisbon* for a long weekend. I've been wanting to go, but didn't know ANYthing about the city, or country in fact, even when we landed. Case in point: it's Lisboa in Portuguese and nope, didn't know that. We showed up with our suitcases, an Airbnb booked, and no plans and no ideas of what are the must-dos. So we scribbled down 18 things -- in honor of our actual anniversary date, 10/18 -- that we had to photo-find over the next 3 days. The next morning we were off! On runs around the city, a free walking tour, locals-only beer festival, a day at the beach, and some standard exploration. Here's the results - judge for yourself! Did we win? 

THE 10-18 SCAVENGER HUNT OF LISBOA

  1. Could-be San Franciscan
  2. Trump supporter
  3. Something from Germany
  4. Something better than Germany
  5. Summer vacation reminder
  6. A 10-18 reminder (our anniversary date)
  7. A gift for Truffle
  8. Renewable energy
  9. Are we in San Francisco?
  10. A doppelgänger 
  11. Something from Sarah's kitchen
  12. Urban gaper 
  13. History!
  14. Something lost
  15. Something found
  16. A fireplace, scrapbook, or cribbage board (not ours)
  17. Two lovers (not us)
  18. You'll know it when you see it

1) Could-be San Franciscan. The messy sidebun is a San Francisco standard. The food truck she's working in made it a shoe-in. Found at a beer festival outside of Lisbon. 

2) Trump supporter. So we didn't actually talk to these three people on our walking tour, per se, so it's pretty judge-y of us to assume. And we feel bad about that... But you'll just have to trust us that we had enough clues and are still pretty sure they're not With Her. 

3) Something from Germany. We overheard this tourist family speaking in German. It's an unmistakable language (to say the least). 

4) Something better than Germany. This one was easy. One of my least favorite things about living in Munich is the lack of coffee-shop-work culture. I always feel like an obnoxious American busting out my computer when everyone else is sitting in intimate conversation or with print newspapers and cappuccinos. Portugal, though, is filled with awesome cafes and bars where people of all different ages work and study. When we stopped in this German-themed cafe in the middle of Lisbon, it was filled with chill Portuguese. Some reading, some talking, some working. It's a place I'd totally hang... if it existed in Munich. Definitely better here in Lisbon. 

5) Summer vacation reminder. We went on a two-week roadtrip around Scotland this summer (one of these days we'll write a post). We stopped for an afternoon beer and a few rounds of cribbage at Duque Brewpub. Next to us were two young kids from Newcastle. UK - close enough! Definitely reminded us of vacation. 

6) A 10-18 reminder (our anniversary date). As many of you know, we got married in Bolinas - one of the most beautiful places on the planet. Our first afternoon in Lisbon, we got wind of a small beer festival the weekend we were in town. Portugal is known for wine. But there's a small, burgeoning craft beer scene and we were eager to learn more. A 25-minute drive out of town, we found ourselves in the middle of a pretty authentico evening, tasting small batch, just-created brews, and speaking in broken sentences to the brewers and workers. I saw this when we first walked in and shrieked, knowing how perfectly we just scored for #6 on the list. 

7)  A gift for Truffle. She comes with us most places, but not anywhere we need to take a plane. Truff wasn't with us in person, but she was in spirit. We thought of her a lot, and imagined what parts of Portugal she'd dig, and parts she'd be over. Took a trail walk along the coast in Cascais and thought of her - hiking is her fave. Note: we also walked along a beach; also could have qualified. 

8) Renewable energy. Admittedly, this one was WAY harder than we thought it would be. And, frankly, than it should be - shouldn't there be solar all across Portugal? There's like no renewable energy around Lisbon... especially compared to Germany and Austria. But, toward the end of our last day walking back into Cascais, we spotted these beauties on the roof of the police station - the only ones we saw anywhere. They didn't look like panels we see in the US (or Germany for that matter), so I went in to the station to confirm. Check. 

9) Are we in San Francisco? Tartine in San Francisco was just a few blocks from our apartment. And this tartine, while not in the same league, was only a few blocks from our Airbnb. And they make a mean spinach croissant. Yes, we had breakfast there every single morning.

10) A doppelgänger. You can't tell in this photo, but he is a living, breathing Portuguese BEN KAUFMAN. From the ethnically ambiguous physical traits, to his point of view on urban development, he is BK's long lost brother. Also, if you're ever in Lisbon, take this free tour; and we totally recommend our guide, Ben. I mean Nuno. 

11) Something from Sarah's kitchen. Grabbed a snackboard while at Dois Corvos brewery in Lisbon, and it literally could have come from our apartment on 19th St. A slate cheese board, olives, and nuts. Yep. 

12) Urban gaper. Rick Steves book & socked Tevas, with bright yellow backpack and shirt in case they get separated in a crowd - the city version of an unhip snow enthusiast. [...and, yes, we realize this is probably us, fast forward into the future.]

13) History! The Sé de Lisboa (also known as Santa Maria Maior de Lisboa, or the Lisbon Cathedral). It's a Roman Catholic Church dating back to 1147. Easily: history. 

14) Something lost. These are stairs to nowhere along the coastal walk in Cascais.

15) Something found. The food in Germany is, generally speaking, very rich. Food is fresh, yes, and the markets are fantastic. But overall, I have a lack of veggies -- especially kale -- in my life. NOT ANY MORE! I FOUND THE VEGETABLES!!! Thanks to this amazing spot, House of Wonders, we stumbled on. 

16) A fireplace, scrapbook, or cribbage board (not ours). House of Wonders was a total score not just because of the veggies (and #15), but also because we checked off another! When we walked in and saw this old school wood stove, we high-fived immediately, knowing we hit #16. 

17) Two lovers (not us). Two seconds before we snapped this pic, these two love-bird teenagers were totally all over each other. It was cute to see their 16-year-old excitement. And this more subdued moment of affection also made us smile. 

18) You'll know it when you see it. We re-read our vows, and talked about the last year, and all the good parts and hard parts and how awesome it is to be together. Anniversary money shot as our scavenger hunt wild card.  

In the end, we considered our scavenger hunt a total victory. Thanks for coming along for the ride.

 

Here's the evidence of 18 items checked: 

* Lisbon?

Lisbon was AWESOME. We went there because I put it on my must-see list, and Dave booked it with miles two months prior without me knowing. Our Airbnb was perfect, cheap, and in the center of an incredibly vibrant town. Restaurants, bars, hip shops everywhere we turned. Amazing food, always affordable. A nascent beer scene that we were somehow able to get see up close. Vegetables on every menu! And the wine is pretty darn good too at a really good price. Bonus: everyone spoke impeccable English. The news tells you Portugal has serious economic troubles, but we saw only the contrary: expensive cars, every establishment full, and construction everywhere (the most we've seen in Europe; or, anywhere, really). Strongly recommend it; we'll be happy to travel back there with you.

Everything You Need to Know About Oktoberfest

BY DAVE (and sarah).

The first thing to know is that Oktoberfest is mostly in September, but you probably knew that from your European edition of Trivial Pursuit. We were prepared for that one. We were not as prepared for just how much dang fun it would be. Good, clean (ok, drunken), fun. Here's what our experiences were like:

Matt and Lindsey visited September 16-19th - they actually wanted to come the preceding weekend but due to some other scheduling logistics we made them come for the opening weekend of Oktoberfest. In my usual way, I was nervous about crowds, so I made everyone get up early, eat a big breakfast, and then hurry out of the house to make it there by 10am. Mind you, no beer is served til noon. But, getting a seat inside a "tent" supposedly requires showing up early (some websites said we had to get there by 6am!). 

With our newly minted costumes on (see photos below), we left for the "long" walk from our apartment to the Oktoberfest site. 13 minutes later, we were there - yes, we can see (barely) and hear (faintly) the Oktoberfest festivities from our house....the same site that's been used since the early 1800s is only a mile away! 

First impression: wow, big. Second impression: wow, the carnival scene is huge. Third impression: Sarah, Lindsey, and Matt are very aware at how much I'm hurrying us to find a "tent" and moving us along. Fourth impression: wow, lots of people fit inside these this "tent!"

So let's break that down:

The site is about 3 square blocks of concrete. And it's a carnival, with some serious rides, theme park games, and junk food stands everywhere. At least half, if not more, of the surface area is devoted to these non-bier purposes.

The rest of the surface area is made of what you by now have noticed are not actually "tents". They are impressive, multi-story, wooden semi-permanent structures that take 3 months to build and 1 month to take down. Each one is massive; there is nothing tent-like about them.

Each "tent" has a different theme, though, spoiler alert, we couldn't really tell much of a difference between them. With S, L, & M playing along with my determination, in we went to Hacker-Pshorr; no, we hadn't heard of it either. Now, we have to find a seat. There are ~620 tables fitting 10 people each, and darn near every table was full. We stroll up and down the aisles, and finally we spot an opening -- a table with only 5 people. I run over and ask in broken German if we can have a seat. With a Boston accent, they said, "totally!" 

So, what do you do for the 2 hours of waiting for beer? Wish you brought a deck of cards. Short of that, download that Taboo-like game for your iphone. Wait... the Oktoberfest thing to do is make friends with Team Boston next to you. And then, at 11:45am when the server comes around to take your beer order, start getting excited.

At 12 on the dot, the parade comes into the "tent" with all sorts of pomp. Officials are carrying flags, people are cheering, and the MC speaks in a German that I swear was some other language. By 12:15, we hit the jackpot: our waitress carries 8 beers, a liter each in heavy glasses (many servers can carry all 10 for a table, but we liked our lady even if she could only manage 8). 

Soon after that, the music starts. First, trumpets on the balcony. And then a lively horn band with a German singer. Not long after, these guys with 10 yard long whips stand about 5 tables apart from each other, and whip their whips above drinking patrons. Weird, but fun and cool.

By about 1pm, the whole place feels drunk. But they aren't (yet) - it's just that the energy is infectious. The pretzels are huge, the music is fun, and when you have 6000+ people smiling, you can't help but do the same. It doesn't take long before Team Boston becomes your best friends - making friends with your table-mates is part of the Oktoberfest allure.

The Oktoberfest beer is a special brew made just for this time of year. It doesn't taste anything like the Octoberfest brews from the States, which come much darker in color and with sweet notes of Fall. These are a Märzen variety, just a little golden, full bodied and crisp. And typically around 6%. 

One beer turned into two. And somehow two turned into three. Another pretzel was ordered. And despite having an extensive food menu, a third pretzel and a pickle was ordered. For those of you doing math at home, 3 liters of 6% beer demands more than 3/4 of a pretzel per person, but we somehow forgot to order anything else. Needless to say, the walk home is a bit hazy. But the fun is crystal clear. 

********

Two weeks later, Uncle Peter and Aunt Donna are in town with the sole purpose of seeing what Oktoberfest is all about (not really, but at least in part). They go by themselves within 2 hours of landing in Munich (I'm away on a work trip and Sarah is working). A couple days later, it's time for us to go back. Peter and Donna went first and scored a seat at Löwenbrau, where we met them there a couple hours later. And we can't help but enjoy ourselves again.

One downside of Oktoberfest is the crowds. But one upside of Oktoberfest is the crowds! They make sure every single seat is filled at each of the 10-person tables, so that means you're always sharing with strangers... and ultimately making friends.

Reserving tables is a 'thing': like the Super Bowl, most seats are reserved by businesses. My company doesn't do this (remember, it's a French company), but we understand that almost all others do. So, after two beers of good conversation with our new friends (one tablemate was a German woman who was texting her daughter about how good looking our other tablemates were, who happened to be 3 Italian policemen), we were booted out for a reservation that was coming. Out on the grounds of Oktoberfest, on a beautiful day, we could really see all of the revelers in full swag. It seems like at least 80% were dressed up, just adding to the festive nature. We were definitely not out of place in our garb.

We weren't ready to leave yet, so after walking around some, we were on the hunt for another "tent", and boy did we find a good one. Spaten was not my favorite beer before, but it is now. The tent itself is famous for it's Ox dishes (its "theme"); lucky for Sarah, she didn't see the rotating ox slow-cooker out back. But because of this fame for its meat, the locales were in full force here. We were concerned we wouldn't get a table, but within 3 minutes, a server led us to seats right under the band. Score! Our table averaged Donna/Peter's age, and by the middle of our third beer for the day, all four of us were on on the chairs dancing, like locals. Even Peter got on his chair to dance! 

******** 

The last night of Peter/Donna's trip coincided with the last night of Oktoberfest (which lasts 2.5 weeks). Despite being a school night, Peter wanted one! last! bier! Who knew he was such a party animal?! Poor Sarah was stuck in work meetings so the rest of us had to abide by Peter's wish. A few hours later, at a late dinner, Peter cheerfully recounted the 3 decisions that were done very well that night: 1) to go to back to Oktoberfest in the first place (Peter's choice), 2) to pick the Augustiner tent (Dave's choice), and 3) to find the best seats in the house (Donna's doing). Even though we only had one beer, we found ourselves unable to resist climbing onto our chairs, one more time, to dance along with everyone else - check it out the party below (no sound available)

A HUGE thanks to Lindsey & Matt and Peter & Donna for traveling thousands of miles to come visit and see our life here in Munich. It was really fun to share such a cultural, very-German experience with you. Pictures of our amazingly-easy, so-awesome-they-came guests and some other scenes from our few days at Oktoberfest: 

Truffle Hangs with Cousin Clara

We don't call Truffle "our baby" and we're not "her parents" - I adamantly prefer the phrase "her humans." Still, there is something really fun and cute about little 8-month old Clara being Truffle's cousin. Clara is our niece, Lauren (Dave's sister) and her husband Patrick's first daughter. 

Earlier this month, we were so stoked to enjoy Clara's presence - without a doubt, the best little baby girl in the history of mankind. Clara is cute, giggly, curious, and always up for an adventure (even during naptime). She has these crazy big blue eyes, and when they focus on you, you actually feel lucky to be their subject. They focus on whatever is happening around her, these giant blue eyeballs moving around the room watching adults, views out the window, or Truff lying right by her side. She talks a lot, but hardly cries - well, only when to say I'm hungry! or I need a change! All in all, she was a champ coming this far around the world. 

Clara, Lauren, and Patrick arrived with smiles the Saturday before July 4th and stayed for a week (that's right! visitors can and should stay with us). We got some sunshine - FINALLY! - so we were able to hit up some of the best spots around town. 

Here are some highlights from our time together:

  • Got tea and cake at my favorite coffee shop before watching Germany beat Italy on the 9th overtime penalty kick
  • Took the free Rick Steve's audio tour of Munich, which included stops at the Hofbräuhaus and sorbet, and ended the evening with a walk through the Englischer Garten and a stop at the Chinesischer Turm for some outdoor biers
  • A walk along the Isar river with a pit stop at our neighborhood biergarten for some drinks and a giant pretzel. Yes, that's 3 beer gardens in 24 hours.
  • A day trip to see some gigantic, German-made stuffed animals at Steiff, honoring a Penndorf family tradition of these teddy bears
  • Visit to Dachau, a Nazi German concentration camp 
  • Walk around a quaint, off-the-beaten-path German countryside town of Nördlingen along the German Romantic Road, and dinner at a cute pizzeria, complete with an opinionated, Italian matriarch who insisted on what Lauren should and shouldn't be feeding Clara. 
  • A daytrip to Landshut where Carl Penndorf was born, Lauren and Dave's late father. There, we met distant Penndorf relatives who then hosted all six of us at their home in Dorfen for a BBQ. We looked at the "blue book" together, a hardbound typewritten Penndorf anthology written by Dave's grandfather, tracing the family lineage back 500 years and found the exact family connection (shared great-great grandparents)!

All in all, we learned that there is someone who can rival Truffle at the attention from random passers by. Her name is Clara. And we learned how fun it is to show people around our new hometown. 

With a tear, they left a few weeks ago. We couldn't have asked for a better trip. Thanks to Lauren and Patrick (and Clara!) for making it all the way to continental Europe just for a visit with Uncle D, Aunt Sarah, and Cousin Truff.  

Sometimes it's the small things.

For those of you who I've talked to, you know being here isn't always easy for me. I don't speak the language, I work crazy weird hours, I have major FOMO for all the friends dinners and ladies' nights in San Francisco, and damn! going to the grocery store every day because things are sold in tiny one-serving portions is annoying. Yes, in spite of the quick and pretty Instagrams, it is indeed often hard. 

But! There are also wonderful things about being here and living in Europe. There's the obvious reasons like living an hour from the Alps, or being able to jet off to Rome or Barcelona or London. There are also the small reasons, the things that are just a tiny bit different from what we do in the states, or are just a tiny bit wonderful in their own way. Sometimes, it's the small things that make it so interesting and fun. 

A few weeks ago, we were driving home from the mountains and saw the German-equivalent of a Pick-Your-Own flower farm! And then I came across another! Complete with an on-your-honor payment system and little crappy knives to cut the blooms. Man, do I love this place. I've already become a regular patron anytime we're driving nearby. I love being able to cut my own pretties and smell them all week long. 

Sometimes it really is the small things.

Why Uncle Peter should come to the Alps

Warning: this post may be ski-technical in nature. If your name is not Uncle Peter, proceed at your own risk. If your name is Uncle Peter, buckle up and tell Aunt Donna you’re occupied for a few too many paragraphs.

I know you have concerns about booking a ski trip out here. You've skied the Alps before, you weren't impressed, and you don't want to do it again. But that was also decades ago...Now that I’ve gathered a season’s worth of data I’d like to address those concerns and give you the opportunity to re-assess.

First, we need to recognize that the Alps are a large mountain range: when you say “the Rockies”, there’s a ginormous difference between Kicking Horse up in Canada and the Colorado groomers, let alone the peaks of New Mexico. Ditto the Alps, stretching from France, through Switzerland and across northern Italy (surprising wide when most just think of the skinny little boot), and across half of Austria. [Plus a bit of southern Bavaria, but let’s ignore the German ski resorts as I agree you shouldn't go there.]  What you remember or may have heard about specific areas simply may not be true in the broader sense. My input comes from 3 trips to France and then the rest are all western Switzerland and Austria.

Concern 1: The snow quality isn’t that good [and, it could be argued this is all that matters]

It is often firm, yes. Storms aren’t as deep, (especially in the eastern Alps where we are). Even with a good storm, the bounty is likely to be windblown.

BUT

Individual storms roll in from every which direction, such that there is usually good snow somewhere. Your average gaper may not know where that is, but by following the right blogs, we can try to find that good snow. For example, when Lee visited from Scotland this February for our first snow turns together in 6 years, we had planned two day trips to the nearby Austrian Alps. Friday night, at the Brauhaus with probably too many brews in our bellies, we open the apps and start reading the reports. We see that all the usual suspects nearby (St Anton, Hochflügen, Sölden) are looking mediocre, so we adjust the plan – we instead drive twice as far, towards the Italian/Slovenian border to a little-known-in-the-western-lore resort called Nassfeld. We have one of the best powder days of the year, with a foot of blower, fresh tracks easily hikable [fig 1], and yelps out of both of our powder-seasoned lungs. We only got a half day (due to the longer drive) but rendered it a complete success thanks to being: yup – FLEXIBLE.

And even if we can’t course-correct like that, within any mountain, there’s a LOT of variability. These mountains are big. Really big. So if one aspect isn’t skiing well, you can just hunt further up, further down, or further around: there’s likely to be more fun out there.

Verdict: MYTH

Fig 1: Yes, even snowboarders can make pretty turns - Lee & Dave's Nassfeld tracks

Fig 1: Yes, even snowboarders can make pretty turns - Lee & Dave's Nassfeld tracks

Concern 2: It’s dangerous to have fun.

It’s a semi-myth that only groomers are “in bounds” and maintained; there are a few “off-piste” runs that are considered in bounds by patrol. But mostly, if you follow the trailmap, you’re only on groomers. And groomers aren’t fun (though, they’re maintained much better over here, so they can be turny and enjoyable……wait, and you ski groomers 90% of your east coast year! But I digress, we like good snow and good snow means off groomers). So off-piste is (mostly) not patrolled. There are no signs. There’s avalanche risk, there’s cliff risk, there’s risk of getting lost. You could die. And after however many years you've been skiing, you’re not looking to die on an off-piste run: I get it. But, chill (you too, mom). The risk is minimal with just a few iotas of brain power. Play it at least medium-smart, and you’re completely totally fine. You should bring avy gear, read the snow report, and be cognizant of what you’re doing. But then you should do it because, again, you’re fine – especially where we’ll be going. I will never take Sarah to a scary spot, and Sarah has an eye for what's safe - and look what she can easily find in fig 2.

Verdict: mostly MYTH

Fig 2: Sarah easily found some boot deep pow with zero avy risk.

Fig 2: Sarah easily found some boot deep pow with zero avy risk.

Concern 3: it takes work to have fun.

We have to be creative, yes. We have to do some trial-and-error, sure. We may have to ride an ice field or cross some rocks or traverse a melting creek to make it back. If you don’t want to do this work, then the verdict will be TRUTH. But I think you’re adventurous enough while your skis are on.

The bigger issue you’d have is that some small hikes can really help enhance the fun quite a bit. Not always the case (see fig 2 again), but we're going to encounter times when we should hike. Especially since we're going to have our head on a swivel on the chairlift, always alert for where the good snow might be. For instance, fig 3 was found at the very top of Engelberg, with just 15 minutes of uphill walking, seen from fig 4. It was tiring at 12k feet, but it was silky smooth, top to bottom visible and safe, and an effort you should be willing to put in…if you aren’t, then swallow your pride and let me carry your skis and let’s go. Fig 5 displays lines after another 15 min walk, this one mostly flat along a ridge, at Hochflügen. The important point is that we’re not talking about all-day, tiring, searching – we’re talking about just little movements to get to where the masses aren’t.

Verdict: MYTH (well, it’s true, but it’s not too much effort and we should do it)

Fig 3: An otherwise mediocre day saved by a short hike.

Fig 3: An otherwise mediocre day saved by a short hike.

Fig 4: the turns from Fig 3 required just a short (tiring) walk up the peak over my shoulder and down the leftern most portion visible

Fig 4: the turns from Fig 3 required just a short (tiring) walk up the peak over my shoulder and down the leftern most portion visible

Fig 5: blow this one up, it's hard to see, but those turns stretching up to the top, 1500 vertical feet, could be yours if you're okay with a little ridge walk

Fig 5: blow this one up, it's hard to see, but those turns stretching up to the top, 1500 vertical feet, could be yours if you're okay with a little ridge walk

Concern 4: It’s hard to go with a group of varying ability

“I’ll meet you at the bottom of the quad” doesn’t cut it when the 8 quads off the top each end in a different village often with their own zipcode. Instructions must be precise. And timing must be flexible because it’s so damn easy to be 30+ minutes away from where you thought you were. Solution: a run with Sarah/Donna in the morning, a well thought-out lunch spot, and a run after lunch. The rest of the day can be a girls day! Lucky them! They’re going to enjoy it so much! 

(ok, easier said than done, so start laying the groundwork months in advance).

Verdict: TRUTH

Concern 5: The liftlines are chaos.

On busy days, it’s a cluster getting onto the lifts. But usually isn’t an issue. Even if it were, you’ve got over a half century of practice, you’ll be fine. And let’s be honest, wouldn’t you rather take the singles line every lift if societal norms allowed it?

Verdict: MYTH (well, ok, can be true sometimes, so the verdict should be: WHO CARES)

Concern 6: Visibility

When you can’t see, you really can’t see. Many places are above treeline, and so there’s no recovery during any sort of a storm day. It can be a complete waste of a day and really suck. Even groomers are scary. Sometimes I think why the hell anyone is out…but on the flip side, not many people are out (no crowds!). And the weather does change, either in whole or for some parts of the mountain. Last April in Engelberg, I had a ski-tip-visibility sort of day. I enjoyed the completely empty slopes, venturing just-barely-off-piste to get completely untouched turns, knowing I’d easily get back to the run. No pictures because, you know, you couldn’t see shit. Sure, I flew off a 10’ cliff completely positive while in the air that I’d ended my snowboard career, but I landed softly, rode away, and told myself I’d never blog about that moment. The point is, see fig 5: two hours later, a little bit of a break in the sky, and I had one of the most epic off-piste runs I’ve ever had (at least since Sölden, 2010, with Lee). 

And sometimes, these are the days to just take the dog cross-country (fig 6). I know, I didn’t think it could be any fun either, but maybe you’d learn to enjoy it like I did.

Verdict: TRUTH

Fig 5: Can't see on 80% of the mountain, but it was sure sweet up top

Fig 5: Can't see on 80% of the mountain, but it was sure sweet up top

Fig 6: their fun at this 'sport' is infectious

Fig 6: their fun at this 'sport' is infectious

Concern 7: You need to hire a guide

Some people love this aspect. Lindsay’s boyfriend Cory totally dug his guide in Chamonix with his friends. For me, there’s something about it that just isn't the same. Maybe the loss of creativity, loss of accountability, loss of risk. No: I don’t love risk, so I dunno. It is absolutely true that a guide provides plenty of safe off-piste fun. If you want to do the single most famous run in the world, Vallee Blanche off of Mt Blanc in Chamonix, you need a guide (Australian Shannon and I considered doing it in 2011 without a guide, but my risk-dar said No). And a couple of days post-snow, a guide really makes a difference. But maybe you’re okay with the whole guide-thing (you don’t complain about it while heli-skiing), so maybe we can do it one day. Andrew: you too. Arash: not you, I know, don’t worry.

Verdict: ok, fine.

Concern 8: Crowds

Lift lines suck. I’ve waited in many States-side, with hour waits in Squaw (hour++), Vail, Stowe, Snowbird, Kirkwood, Heavenly, Sugarbowl, even your venerable Alta. Never experienced anything like that in Europe, knock on wood. Partly, cuz they’re so god damn big, people spread out. Partly cuz I’ve gotten lucky to avoid ski-week where all kids have off school and all Germans head for the Alps [February and early March are danger zones for crazy crowds. January, late March are safe zones. April can be awesome].

This is one area that may have changed since you last visited - the high speed quads, brand new gondolas and spinning trams are mind-blowingly well-designed, and really fan the masses out across the mountain. They are always building building building to make your experience better.

Verdict: MYTH

Concern 9: no spring corn. [I love spring skiing. More than you do, but I think you appreciate it too.]

I’ve found spring corn elusive. It took until May of this year, on the glacier Hintertux to find the spring snow that I know and love. Worse, the avalanche courses I’ve taken have taught me to be afraid of warming snow. Tahoe skiing has taught me otherwise: there’s no danger of too-warm snow in the Tahoe snowpack. In the Alps, I’ve experienced junk snow that is not safe. Steeps must be considered carefully, decreasing the "hero" effect of spring snow that I love. Overall, this is a downer for me.

Verdict: TRUTHish

Concern 10: Steeps – the Alps are flat

Not true. ‘Nuff said.  (but I’ll say more)

Not true, especially if you’re creative, work for it, and are mindful of the danger factors. I can easily meet my goal of being scared once per day (all I need is Fig 7 from Hintertux). And at most resorts, they groom some super steep angles with winchcats (I think much more so than back in your day here, thanks to improved cat technology?). Besides, it’s not like you’re skiing the Palisades (which, side note, I did on May 15th of this year and appreciate what you offer, Squaw).

Verdict: MYTH

Fig 7: Check out the rollover effect in between the two rock bands - good pitch angle, while being inbounds but off piste and 100% safe.

Fig 7: Check out the rollover effect in between the two rock bands - good pitch angle, while being inbounds but off piste and 100% safe.

Concern 11: Elevation is low, putting snow quality at risk

Well, that’s why German resorts are not considered - they are lower elevation and feed this concern. And the media does pick up on this for a number of large European resorts which are low-ish. But every year, some region of the world has bad snow (ahem, northeast this year, and Tahoe the previous 4).

Sölden goes from 4,544' to 10,725'; Davos has snow down to the valley; St Anton has snow in every direction most of the year. Granted, the lower portions are often man-made, but when a mountain has 6k of vertical, you only need to ski the top half to be bigger than most US resorts and still have good snow.

Verdict: MYTH

First concern you don’t have but should (12): Euros learned to venture off-piste

The vast majority of family vacationers stick to those groomers, on-piste. Doesn't matter how much fun lies just next to the run, they won't venture off of it. The Alps you experienced back in the day left the goods for you alone...but times have changed. The Scandinavians (who are powder hounds) have shown the Continentals the way, and of course the snowboard-inspired ski revolution made it easier for the masses. In just the last 6 years, I've really felt a difference in how quickly the snow is skied off-piste, and chairlift chatter confirms that the good ole days are gone. Hence concern number 3. To be sure, it's still a crazy different world over here of people staying on groomers as we saw in fig 8, but the trend is very clear as fig 9 shows. (so: hurry up!)

Verdict: TRUTH

Fig 8: at Davos, maybe this used to be totally untouched. Still, plenty of fun to have. Everyone else is on the groomers

Fig 8: at Davos, maybe this used to be totally untouched. Still, plenty of fun to have. Everyone else is on the groomers

Fig 9: The masses are still on the groomers, but I suppose this used to be less skied out; just off the run at Hochzillertal

Fig 9: The masses are still on the groomers, but I suppose this used to be less skied out; just off the run at Hochzillertal

Second concern you don’t have but should (13): Traffic

The mountains are so close! With Flexibility, you can go anywhere! No mountain passes to drive over! Highways and tunnels and valley flat roads!

Well, 1) the traffic around Munich was just rated as the worst in Deutschland (fig 10), 2) the valley roads are just 2 lanes – any amount of tourist traffic and BOOM, you’ve just lost a few runs thanks to being in your car, and 3) the roads aren’t as flat as I thought: soon after convincing Sarah that we could buy a 2WD car with good snowtires, we drove to Davos in a rental 2WD with good snowtires….and got stuck (and so: the Goose is 4WD). [side note, if you do have a 2WD stick shift and your (my) tires are spinning out trying to get going, what gear should I be in?]

Verdict: The traffic and driving is just as annoying as in the US

Fig 10: an all too often sight

Fig 10: an all too often sight

Concern 13: You have to go to one resort for a whole week

The Euros sure do. And so accommodations assume you will. But once I reiterate for the third time that I only want to stay one night, it’s usually fine. Guesthouses are plenty happy to host for any duration, and the breakfasts are often incredible. Stay a couple miles form the resort center, in a tiny village, and see Europe from the romantic point of view, and at an affordable price – then we can take the convenient-enough bus to lifts in the morning. Or, we park at the base of the lifts and bunk up in the van!

Verdict: MYTH

Concern 14: if you’ve seen one good mountain view, you’ve seen them all

Yes, the BC Rockies are awesome. They’re huge, inspiring, and you’ve seen them so you’re done..right?

Well, I’ve seen those too, and somehow with the Alps I feel more in the mountains. They build the infrastructure to the tippity-top of the peaks where the views are best, and provide the viewing platforms to appreciate it, with gimmicks for the non-skiing tourist including glass-ceiling, suspension bridges over sheer rock cliffs and the like [fig 8]. I guess the mountain views haven't changed since you were here, but maybe you forgot?

Verdict: MYTH

Fig 8: Suspension bridge built over 5k' straight-down drop. These views are unlike anywhere else, and Austria really wants you to know it.

Fig 8: Suspension bridge built over 5k' straight-down drop. These views are unlike anywhere else, and Austria really wants you to know it.

Concern 15: it’s dangerous to ski alone

Verdict: TRUTH!!

That’s why you need to book your trip: your nephew is relying on it for his safety!

Utah will still be Utah in 2 years; who knows how long we'll be here.

And if the snow sucks, there’s always the on-mountain huts with amazing food and even more amazing bier.

Fig Delicious: Apple strudel in vanilla sauce, overlooking the world

Fig Delicious: Apple strudel in vanilla sauce, overlooking the world

By: Dave

10 Days in France

From the beginning, part of the plan was to use Munich as a homebase. A place to live and work in between hops and bops around Europe. And so, we went to France for 10 days; it was fantastic. 

Less than a day after buying and registering our van, we packed up the big Grey Goose for her first roadtrip, and headed out to the Loire Valley, where we spent the weekend with incredibly gracious hosts: Dave's old boss, Loic, and his family. While in San Francisco, Loic always talked about his hometown, and now we understand why his American wife wanted to raise their kids in France. We stayed in their beautiful, very old, and very French, made-with-stone-and-must-have-been-built-in-like-the-1400s, home in Bouchemaine, a village within the Loire Valley. We arrived late at night and couldn't see much, so when we woke up in the morning it was especially dramatic. And old, historic, and storied. And OLD! I really didn't believe places like this still existed. I thought they were torn down long ago, parking lots paved, and new homes raised. But no, these villages are cobblestoned, with narrow streets, original architecture, and patisseries that could have baked for our great grandmothers.

Dave and I woke up to fresh croissants that our hosts picked up that morning, we then went for a long run along the Loire River, up through a creek and around some wineries that were. just. breathtaking. Loic took us into the nearby city of Angers for a lunchtime souffle (amaze), followed by people watching and beer drinking on the town square (adorbs). For Saturday evening Loic and his wife hosted a little dinner party with two other expats from their village. As the empty bottles of wine from the nearby vineyards piled up, we ate homemade raclette, talked about the loves and heartaches of living abroad, art festivals, politics (American and local), raising children, raising dogs. It just couldn't get any better. Until it did with Sunday lunch at L'Abri Des Bateliers, a short walk from our hosts' house in the middle of La Pointe (did we mention this was a UNESCO world heritage site?). Another run and some wine tasting for the ladies (Dave and Loic mountain biked, got two flats, and had a great time themselves), and we were off ...

... To PARIS! We drove in Sunday night so Dave could head to his company's HQ Monday morning. Bright and early he was off to the metro, so I went running with Truff. First stop: the Eiffel Tower! Only a few hundred yards from our hotel, I hadn't even warmed up yet when she came into full view, right there, in all her glory. Not gonna lie - I totally got goosebumps as we got closer. I don't have a good explanation for why, other than because it's a landmark of ultimate stature. Somewhere that, growing up, always felt so far away and so sophisticated. The intention (and work) to make my life what it is, that effort materialized into this, any Monday morning run through Paris. Maybe that's why - because I just felt deeply excited to be there, and greatful for the moment. 

I worked Monday and Tuesday, so didn't have too much time to explore, but managed to check off a few croissants from THIS list (thanks to Rachel for the brilliant find) while walking around the 8th and 9th arrondissements. But I took Wednesday and Thursday as VACATION days, to play tourist in the city. Since it was my first time, I wanted to hit a few major sights (aside from the Eiffel of course). Wednesday, I made it to the Musee Rodin (for all you Conn College folks out there, this is where Rachel did her CISLA internship in 2002). It was special to visualize my friend working here as an eager student during a college summer, while I did my CISLA internship in a national park in Costa Rica, and where our lives have taken us fifteen years later. Anyways, the museum was just my speed: it wasn't particularly crowded, and I liked that (some of) it's most renowned pieces are outside in the property gardens (The Thinker, Gates of Hell). And I liked that Rodin was such a rebel of his time. The next day, I hit up the Louvre. Which I found to be majestic, but overwhelming. Tourists are aggressive (a woman literally elbowed me out of the way and then proceeded to cut me in line). Easily most notable were the Islamic Art galleries, Psyche and Cupid, and Venus de Milo. The Mona Lisa was of course, a scene, and I couldn't help but have images of The Da Vinci Code run through my mind :) 

Aside from Museums and my self-guided croissant tour, I walked around, along the Avenue des Champs-Élysées to the Arc de Triomphe (which felt like Union Square in San Francisco) and quickly moved on to other pretty, hip neighborhoods. But no matter where I was, there were Americans everywhere. And everywhere, everyone was smoking. The Parisians were easy to identify, though, because they were in heels and strutted the streets with attitude.

For our last night in Paris, we had Date Night! Proper champagne and holy-crazy-delicious dinner at Monsieur Blue, a treat for our engagementiversary, and then a view of the city from the tippity top of the Eiffel Tower. Which, is way bigger and higher than you'd think. And if I hadn't mentioned it before, majestic.

Friday morning, we packed the Goose back up and headed to skiing mecca Chamonix. For years I've been dying to go to Cham, but Dave said it wasn't the right mountain for me. Turns out, it was indeed everything I hoped it would be: a picturesque mountain town (eh, more like city) nestled in a valley as perfect as you could ever imagine. And the views while skiing take your breath away. We had no trouble parking our grey bird each of the three evenings to bunk up for night - and even better, there was a brewery 300 feet from where we parked. Spring conditions on Saturday, blue skies, and great corn snow. Classic cloudy cover and firmer conditions for Sunday - a good day to practice the transition from boards to skis. 

But as I write this, we're stuck in traffic worse than I-80, paying our dues.

We'll let you know about those 3 nights sleeping in a converted car on the side of the road in a post to come.

In sum, after 10 days in France, here's what we've learned: 

  1. Locals REALLY do eat croissants every day, and each bike basket literally has a baguette inside.  
  2. Street style is different in France and Germany. I expected one unified "European" look, but I was mistaken. Two countries, two distinct styles.
  3. The stereotype of rude service is... so, so true. 
  4. Americans tourists are everywhere, but all tourists use a selfie stick.  
  5. We wonder the influence or impact of the oldness of Paris, and France in general.  On style, on aesthetic, on cultural mindset.  
  6. [From Dave] German's like their privacy. The French let everyone knew their dirty secrets. Evidence: German offices (both employer and customer's office) are closed off with no open floor plans/space and windowless office doors. Paris offices (at Dave's company's example) has an open floor plan and glass offices.
  7. Wine is cheaper than beer... half price or so. 
  8. How are there so many pastry shops with so many local customers, and everyone's still so darn skinny?
  9. France has way fewer solar panels than Germany.
  10. We'll go back, soon I hope.*

 

*At the very least, for the La Roche Bluegrass Festival this summer where our friends Front Country are playing!!! It's a 6.5 hour drive from Munich in the middle of the French Alps, so if you're looking for a vacation, come join us!

Grey Goose

In the Journey of Our Milestones, welcome to today's: we bought a car. Not just any car, but one with a kitchen, and a bed (2 in fact!), and a roof that pops open: VW California. Europe, HERE WE COME!

We would like to thank Dalan and Sam for the idea from their honeymoon. And we would like to thank Truffle for letting us now avoid having to find dog-friendly hotels. And VW for designing a car/van that is so perfect for our needs (and that isn't part of the emissions scandal). And everyone we have talked to who has ever owned one who says, "it only gets more and more awesome the more you use it".

The crazy thing is the value they hold - the demand just outstrips supply. It takes something like 4 months to get a new one, and Europeans like to spend their retirement driving around. Camping, I guess. So, that's bad news for buying the car, but good news for when we sell it. And, there's no tax to pay on a used car, so after a year's of driving, depending on how many nights of accommodation we "save," and how many of you we can convince to come visit as a result, we might actually be able to justify this. 

This process was not without some ups and downs: we got to see each other's differences in decision making - my feelings versus Dave's spreadsheets. We (read: Dave) learned how to transfer USD to EUR. And we started out by thinking we had respectable negotiation skills, until the seller let us know that he has 3 other buyers lined up and he will only accept the initial asking price. And then BAM, Dave convinced him to split the difference. Except we missed the cutoff at the bank to make the payment, and the cascading affects of that...  

... But it's here, and it's ours (until we sell it), and it's even more gigantic than we remembered it being, and more exciting than we thought it would be.

So be ready for pictures with our Grey Goose, because we're looking to test 'er out as soon as we can.

Roadrips- just another reason for you to come visit....

 

PS, our lovely state of California is not one of the 27 states with reciprocity of a driver's license. So expect a blog post... on going back to driver's school and taking a driver's test. 

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We Live Here Now

Today we move - from our tiny (but furnished) Airbnb apartment that we LOVE (in spite it's many quirks) to a glorious, new (and very unfurnished) empty apartment that we're a little afraid of.

Rumor has it that finding a flat in Munich is more difficult than in SF or NY. Not more expensive, though not particularly cheap either, but more difficult.  Here's another American's experience. We didn't find it SO difficult, but when we were offered the first spot with a good location, we took it. Mostly because I'm going bananas without a settled place to call home. We had dreamed of warm summer nights out on a-very-common-feature-of-Munich-flats terrace, but quickly let that be a distant thought. The elevator for schlepping snowboards and skis every weekend will be nice though. And, it comes with a kitchen .... but nothing else. Nada. Not even light fixtures. Dave love's floorplans, so maybe you do, too. It's attached in case anyone is interested. Note the giant size of the living room, where we will be able to easily put an air mattress, he hem. 

We're 5 blocks away from our current spot, in the same neighborhood that we quickly came to feel is perfect. We're 4 blocks from the Isar river (Munich's version of Dolores Park), 10 minute walk to Dave's office, 15 minute walk to the center of town, 20 minute walk to The Hub where I'll join and do work, and (Uncle Peter and Donna:) 18 minute walk to the center of Oktoberfest! 

SO, off to get the rental van, then the first of what will surely be many Ikea runs, then some random guy from the German/American version of Craigslist to help us carry our recently purchased used washing machine and giant plant and a few other heavy items down five flights of stairs, and into the new place.

Oh, we overlook a cemetery. Is that weird? I don't know, all of the locals say it's amazing. Here's the view. 

So... snail mail us!

 

Penndorf

Thalkirchner Strasse 54

80337 München, Deutschland

 

No, wait, don't mail....Come and visit us!

Valentine's Day in Davos

On Sunday, Dave took me and Truff to Davos, Switzerland for Valentine's Day. It was the sweetest gesture because he knows two things really rev my engine: 1) being outside and experiencing Truffle's unharnessed joy, and 2) big, peaky mountains. I got both of those things, then ended the night snuggled between my two favorite living creatures. 

On Saturday, we drove into Klosters, a sweet mountain town nestled straight into the Alps. The first thing to know is that Switzerland is crazy, ridiculously, mind-blowingly, a-basic-salad-goes-for-twenty-eight-dollars kind of expensive. So, our stay at Kessler's Kulm, especially with a random free upgrade, was a steal. And their breakfast? Fantastic. 

On Sunday, we spent the day on the Davos cross country trails, which parallel a river that runs through the valley of town. Truff got out some stoke, and Dave and I scooted along like obvious tourists. We stopped mid-day for a snack at another adorably cute chalet Gasthaus Islen, got a piece of cream cake that, at 3 CHF (1 CHF for 1 cm of cake), has got to be the best value in the country. 

I actually forgot it was Valentine's Day, so I didn't even have a card to offer. But of course, Dave did well. 

Our First Month(ish)

Whew! What a whirlwind. 

Our very first night in Munich, December 22, we dropped our bags,  and headed out for a walk in our new 'hood and one block later came upon Das Maria. Its hippie food and shared tables were just what these Californians needed to feel at home. They weren't serving any longer, but Dave and I both quickly knew I'd be eating my way through their menu in short order. One block further, we came to Faun, and stepped inside to the bustling, traditional Bavarian part-eatery, part-brewhall. Even better, when we noticed a dog inside, Dave ran home to get our white fluffer so she could join us. 

Truffle laying under the table, two biers, and an order of hummus and kraut, we were off to a very, very good start. 

The next few days, we tried to balance vacation, exploration, and some progress ticking off the seemingly endless list of things to do. Seriously, moving abroad is not a trivial task. I am SURE to write more about this later, so I won't linger here any longer.

Our first full day, Dave was out of the house by 7am and off to some government office somewhere dealing with some sort of paperwork which I'm still not exactly sure what it was. But I'm sure it was important, and I'm so glad he handled it. Then, he came home with warm laugencroissants from the bakery a few doors away. Let me pause here. These are not just croissants. They are PRETZEL croissants. Why didn't anyone tell me these existed? I didn't think croissants could get any better. We got dressed in running gear and headed out to a doctor appointment which is requisite for applications to German health insurers. I'm sure we'll also have more to say about healthcare too, but for now I'll just say that 1) based on the looks I got, people don't wear their running gear out in public, and 2) Germans are pretty trusting and willingly accept IOUs. When we didn't have any euros to pay in cash, the receptionist said no worries if we came back in a few days, and in the meantime, oh yeah, they'd submit the paperwork, kein problem.

After our first German run along the Isar, where we accidentally and serendipitously found the Englischer Garten - a giant park where dogs and people roam free - we headed home and out to our first Christkindlemarkt! I had heard rumors from Marselle of how awesome these Christmas Markets are, and I can officially report they are indeed worthy of the hype. Basically, a Christmas Market is a lot of people of all ages and demographics standing around in the cold, eating roasted chestnuts and drinking mulled wine or beer. Talking and making merriment. Sure, there are stands with some homemade ornaments and other gifts - as well as a bunch of Made-in-China junk masquerading as cute German trinkets - but the attention is unequivocally just not on shopping. It's all about the hanging. Germans, I'm learning, are very serious about their chill. 

Christmas eve was more of the same. With our first big meal in Germany. We opened some presents and headed back out to the Christkindlmarkt because we Just. Couldn't. Get. Enough. 

So much so that the next day, Christmas day, we were disappointed to learn the market in Munich was closed. But not in Salzburg! (Also known as the original set for the Sound of Music. And Mozart's birthplace.) We of course then rented a car and road tripped to Austria. First, we spent the day hiking in the Alps! My first time! And indeed, the vistas were vast, the trail soft, and there were a lot of people out and about hiking a mountain. Secretly, though, I couldn't get to the market fast enough. But when we got there, somehow the Salzburg market just wasn't as charming as the one in Munich. It was actually sad in a way, maybe even depressing. I'm not quire sure why or how, but we ended leaving pretty quickly, and headed back home to Munich. 

By the 27th, we were ready to head back to Austria for our first ski day. Note to Uncle Peter: five days after landing and we're on the hill. Not fast enough, I know, but the Alps were (definitely past tense now) having a slow start to the season. Dave chose Sölden, in large part for its conditions, proximity to Munich, and the parking sitch so we could let Truff out at lunch. Two things stood out right away: 1) Aprés starts before lunch. Scratch that - before skiing. I went into the chalet to get some tea at 10am and I was the only one ordering a non-alcoholic drink. Glühwein, beer, and schnapps. At 10am. I'm not kidding. 2) The alps are giant. Like, huge. It's a completely different skiing experience. There's more to say here, and between me and Dave, you can expect at least one (probably many more) whole post devoted to winter mountain activities. 

A few days later, we took Truff on her first metro ride out to the suburbs to go car shopping. More specifically, to go VW campervan shopping. Can you guess what the model is called? "California" - our dream is literally to eurovan around Europe in a California (still gets me!).... As many of you might imagine, I am indeed sorely conflicted about buying a Volkswagen after the emissions scandal. But let's put that aside for now to reflect on the process of trying to buy a car in a foreign country: in some ways, it's exactly the same, and in other ways, we face real challenges in evaluating our options. The language barrier doesn't seem to be the hurdle, but understanding the contract is a big one. The structures are fundamentally different than what we know in the US, so there is a whole new set of questions to ask, and of course, a whole new set of risks. We walked away with a fancy brochure and one important question: WHAT are we getting ourselves into, which quickly devolved to, Exactly HOW bad of an idea is this? We didn't make any decisions, but we'll keep you posted. 

We decided to walk back from the suburban car dealership, pubcrawling - beirgartening - our way home. We stopped here, here, here (our fave!), and here along the way. Two things worth noting here. First, picture the cliché image of a beer hall with big, wooden tables and tall Germans clinking litre-sized glasses filled with lager and overflowing foam. This, turns out, couldn’t be more authentic. And second, the beer hall is for everyone. Non-drinkers. Seniors. Families. People of all ages sitting down, slowing down, enjoying time together. At our first stop, the table to our left had two women, presumably mother and daughter, both over the age of 70. And they were dressed for town, both sipping their beers out of glasses double the size of mine. The next table over had a family with two well-behaved teenagers. There's an element of togetherness and family and connection and real life that seems to happen around these shared tables. 

New Year’s was quiet in our apartment, and we watched fireworks from the window. First thing in the new year, Dave headed to the recently-opened-after-a-terrorist-threat Hauptbahnhof to pick up the rental car. Sidebar: He says how strange it was that there was no signal whatsoever that a mere five hours prior this had been the site of international alarm. Then off to Switzerland for a few days, we hit up St. Anton for a half day of east-coast-style ice - but some killer views! - and made our way to Lucerne (Luzern). In the morning, breakfast on the water at Luz was gorgeous, right before I had a date with myself at the Luzern Symphony Orchestra for a mind-blowing performance with Venezuelan piano improvisor Garbriela Montero. Meanwhile, Dave and his colleagues* hung at the Luzern Glacier Museum, learning about rocks and ice and geology and history and other fun stuff. After the symphony, I saddled up to the bar sopping wet and with a soggy, dirty dog, feeling very, loudly American, at Luzern Brewery (in the former city hall). I made friends with some other foreign tourists, who were nonetheless fawning over Truffle in spite of her appearance or smell. 

Dave, along with his friends* Mel and Heiner (she German, he Swiss), and a family friend of theirs, met up with me at the bar. After a few beers, Mel and Heiner were so incredibly generous to host us for a feast at their home, atop the Lucerne hills, a meal filled with traditional German and Swiss dishes and accoutrements. We talked about the US, chocolate, the difference between Germans and Swiss and Austrians, backcountry skiing (Heiner is a mountain guide), and more. 

A few days later, we headed to Zurich, and made a pit stop at Engelberg. Snow conditions were bad (according to me, not according to Dave), so Truff and I took a hike while Dave made sure to get some turns. And turns out, Dave was right. And Truffle rolled in manure. 

And then... real life started. Work. We spent the next week in Zurich, Dave in all-day meetings, me bouncing between cafes and the hotel lounge working on a productization plan and dialing into conference calls. We soon returned to Munich, where life would be filled with errands (like going to the registration office), painful and tedious challenges when doing basic life tasks like grocery shopping, an occasional night out like the evening with Abby's friend Russ and his climbing crew at Tap House, and work. Lots and lots of work. 

Off to Mexico then back to SF for a week, now here we are, back in our "home" of Munich. Well into our second month, we don't yet have a routine, but it's around the corner. I can feel it. 

 

*Dave says he's not good at making friends. I say he is. Dave and Mel work on the same project, and there we were in their home drinking and laughing away for our first night of true Europen socializing. Both Mel and Heiner have been incredibly helpful translating apartment applications, providing recommendations on the best backcountry gear shops, giving us cultural insights, and so much more. You'll probably hear more about them. 


For (Future) Visitors

We miss everyone. And so we hope we have visitors, lots of them. Our dream is that we'd have so many visitors in fact, that we need to coordinate. Being optimistic, we created a shared calendar, which you can view HERE, to help in your travel planning. That way, if you're in the brainstorming phase of planning a trip, you'll know up-to-the-minute when we're available to host, and when we're not (because of our own travel, work travel, or OTHER GUESTS!!!).  

So far, it looks like Lindsey, Matt, and Orson are coming in April. Lauren, Patrick, and Clara are coming in July. Uncle Peter and Donna are considering October. 

So read about Munich, book your tickets, let us know, and we'll lock it in. 

We hope you come visit!