That tower… it’s just so EIFFEL.

Merry Bastille Day!

Bag Head

Well the actually day wasn’t that merry; it rained most of the day, so we found ourselves jumping from metro to metro trying to visit parts of the city that were dry where we could walk around. We tried heading over to the Arc de Triomphe only to find ourselves in the middle of a heavily policed area with barricades everywhere. Totally forgot about the military parade that morning that begins there, and we couldn’t get anywhere near the Arc. On the way home, Kristi made a bag head.

Kristi and I had big plans of putting together a picnic and going out to the Eiffel Tower about 4 hours before the fireworks to get a prime viewing spot for the show, so we bought our food (mostly consisting of baguettes and wine) and headed to our hotel in hopes that the rain would stop in time for the festivities. We took a quick nap listening to the rain, and woke up to a bright sunshiny evening perfect for Bastilling all over the place.

We found the perfect picnic spot, listened to Gorillaz “Feel Good Inc.” 30 times on repeat about over the loud speaker (somebody needs to update their 2^nd generation iPod) and claimed our spot with the official Knight flag.

We staved off encroaching intruders

Just the start...

People slowly started claiming spots all around us and by the time the show started it was PACKED. Around us was a group of drunk Asian college kids, a group of 2 guys and 2 girls that we assumed were all just friends because none of them were sitting too close to one another and weren’t overly touchy – that is until the fireworks started and the 2 guys started hugging and dancing and the 2 girls lay arm in arm (did NOT see that coming), a big group of Frenchies who lead everyone in songs (including the White Stripes, In The Jungle from the Lion King, and a HEAVILY accented English version of “Ha-ppy Bird-day DOOOO YOUUUU,” who they were singing this to I have no idea, we all joined in), and a couple of American kids who I overhead say “The French fry is essentially a post-modern potato.”

Our seat for the fireworks

Merry Bastille Day!

The fireworks were incredible and the atmosphere was great. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood and it was just one giant party. At least until it was over and we had to catch our metro back to the hotel. Packed. Not just packed, but chest to back, I-can-smell-what-the-person-next-to-me-is-thinking packed. Kristi has a little claustrophobia in her and had a little bit of a freakout which I think helped clear the path for us a little bit.

Small side garden at Versailles

The next morning we got up and headed out to Versailles. We walked around the enormous gardens, visited Marie Antoinette’s villas, got lost in the maze-like sculptors, and saw where Mike and Andrea got engaged (which I think is a Contiki Tour stop now). I would also to tell everyone to NOT check your backpack at the Petit Trianon with the sketchy looking employee. It turns out he steals your gracious mother-in-law’s Flip video camera that has the Bastille Day firework finale video out of your bag, which you don’t notice until that night and freak out. (We will buy you a new one when we get back, Jodi.) This is now twice that I have had expensive electronics taken out my bag when checking them (at the airport in Morocco, and now at Versailles). Too bad, too. The video of the fireworks was really great.

Inside the palace was great. Everything was gold, enormous painting of gods and such everywhere, and the whole place ridiculously lavish.

Kristi also found some cotton candy. Of course.

We came back and re-visited the Arc de Triomphe, this time police- and rain-free, and walked to the top for an amazing view of Paris. We then moseyed our way down the Champs Elysees, window shopping (or “window licking” as it apparently is translated in French) and people watching.

The next day was Louvre day. Being the most visited museum in the world, no matter what time you try to do this, it will always be a cluster. We got a hot tip from Rick Steves about an alternate entrance and walked right in without a line at all. We skimmed over a lot of it, making our way to the biggies: Monna Lisa, Winged Victory and Venus De Milo. Once again, Rick helped us with a 2-hour walking tour hitting the highlights and giving insightful commentary.

We made our way up to Montmarte, getting another great view of Paris from up at the Socre Couer. This is the bohemian area of Paris, where Picasso lived, the Moulin Rouge is, the café from Amelie is, and where there are incredibly talented street artists. There also happens to be scammers there who try to “sell” you a string bracelet by tying it onto your wrist so that you either have to buy it or cut it off (which also means buying it). Kristi and I were prepared for these and walked through the sea of them shaking our heads no, making quick punching movements (Blake) and flailing arms about (Kristi) so they couldn’t get close enough to trap us.

Also this movie is playing next to the Moulin Rouge:

And it's in 3D!

Kristi knows how to put together a great picnic spread. This was only half of it.

We then decided to have another picnic on the arts bridge for our last night in Paris. This time we even took pictures, Jodi! I highly recommend this to anyone visiting Paris, plus you can wave at all the boats full of tourists passing underneath (as Kristi did) or accidentally spill water them (as Kristi did as well). Also, if you happen to have the “museum pass” then you can run into the Louvre passing all the tourists just to use the bathroom (as Blake did). Priceless works of art be damned: where’s the john?

Sun. Setting.

Kristi's pic of the Luxembourg Gardens!

Our train the next day (today) didn’t leave until 5:42 PM, so we walked around the Luxembourg gardens which were surprisingly awesome and relaxing and full of crazy people doing crazy people exercises.  I’d been wondering why we have seen no French gym, and I soon got my answer.  Turns out, who needs a gym when there is a perfectly good park you can skip (yes skip) around, do 400 high kicks in a row, or pick up and put down the same lawn chair 30 times in a row?  After watching the lady next to me do some form of working out that involved slowly opening her hands out wide and then slowly bringing them back together in front of her for 30 straight minutes, I decided we had had enough excitement for one day and lead us out of the tiny kids riding tiny ponies and over to the St. Germain area for our second best meal in Paris, consisting of duck (which we seem to have every other meal… it is so good!) and sea bass.

We made our way over to the train station about 1.5 hours before our train, only to find ourselves running at full speed through the terminal (with enormous backpacks on, mind you) to catch our train about a minute before it took off. Turns out we were sitting at the main terminal waiting, while our train arrived at another one which was outside, around the corner and past some construction. When we got there the lady just said “Quick, get on” and we jumped on the first car available (turns out we were the second car, so it worked out perfect).

But we made it, and are now sipping Coca-Cola Lights in first class on our way to Nice. A few days sitting on the beach sounds pretty ideal right about now…

Au revoir!

I Finally Found The Ultimate Magnum Bar!! (And Paris)!!!

So, I don’t know how many of those of you reading have ever tried riding trains all day long while also in the middle of your first cold/sinus infection for the year.  If you have, you understand how completely sucky it is.  I guess I am allergic to Europe.  After sneezing myself into a tizzy on multiple occasions, I found myself with a sudden onset sore throat in Berlin, which quickly escalated into a full blown sinus infection (that is what I am classifying it as, since I took sinus infection Tylenol and it seemed to help.)  After being a bumski for most of Berlin, I was hoping that the 8 hour train ride to Paris would give me a chance to rest and recover without taking away from our awesome sight-seeing opportunities.

I feel as terrible as I look.

Waking up with a throbbing sinus headache, sore throat, and multiple sneezing fits, I boarded a crowded train, much to the delight of my cabin-mates (oh, how they loved the coughing, phlemy, snotty me.)  Turns out, our reserved super fast ICE train was in the “shop,” so we were on a much slower normal train.  We shared a small cabin with several German Jodi’s (they all reminded me of my mom and her friends), who we were able to figure out were on their way for a week long girls’ trip in Baden Baden (an area known for their resorts.)  I’m sure they were THRILLED I was in their cabin, and Jodi #1 had about 5 minutes of my sniffling before handing me a package of Kleenex and telling in broken English that she didn’t need them, and that she hoped I felt better.  I took some of my beloved Tylenol Sinus and slept my way through most of the train ride, missing the announcement that we were behind schedule.  Turns out we were 1.5 hours behind schedule, causing us to miss our connection to Paris.  Blake, knowing I was about worthless at this point, found out from some other American tourists, an alternate route into Paris, requiring us to connect 3 more times.  I took some more medicine and continued feeling terrible.  We stopped in the first station, and Blake’s eagle eye saw the name of the city we needed next.  Seeing everyone else running to terminal FOUF! (5), I insisted that we follow suit, causing us to miss our next connection (in my defense, the information Blake was given on the train was faulty and according to his new itinerary, we had 30 minutes to find the next train….not true..we had 2 minutes.)  At that point, I was ready to cry.  My head was pounding and I had used all my tissues.  Blake wisely set me down near the terminal, and went in the office, reserving us NEW tickets into Paris, and buying me a Coca Cola Light (yes, I’m off the wagon.)   We finally boarded our small train to the next city on the German/France border, boarded our first class cabin (yay!) on the next next train to Paris, and I slept my way into the city.  Our train actually had a few pick pocketers, which ended up getting kicked off the train in the middle of nowhere (there was randomly an announcement that there were “thieves” aboard the train and then we stopped and then we saw 2 people being left in the middle of a field.)   Our 8 hour train had turned into a 15 hour train ride, but Blake was able to quickly find our hotel upon arrival, and I was too exhausted to be impatient, so it was our smoothest arrival yet.

We found our teeny hotel and our teeny hotel room and immediately set off to find food.  We were STARVING.  It turns out that our area is quite happening (thanks Mike for helping us with that!), so we found an open café and had a delicious croque monsieur and wine (Blake did anyways, I didn’t want my liver to shut down).  It was actually very French seeming.  After eating, we headed back, and I passed out for my longest night of sleep yet.

The next day, I was actually feeling better, so we headed off for our first sight seeing opportunity of the day – the Rick Steve’s “Historic Paris” Tour.

My amazing tour guide-ing abilities. And Blake. And Notre Dame.

We started at Notre Dame, toured the inside, and walked all over that part of Paris, stopping to buy books at the

We love bookstores.

Shakespeare Book Company (which historically has, and still does, house poor authors while they work on their masterpieces, including Hemingway, Joyce, Stein, and others.)  Blake and I bought a couple of books (we’ve been reading a lot), and we ended our tour on Pointe Nouef, where we doubled back to Notre Dame for a delicious lunch of crepes.  Seeing the Eiffel Tower in the distance, I stupidly suggested we walk to the tower for the afternoon.  Turns out, it was not close.  At all.  Four miles later, we arrived at the base, and saw the longest line ever created by man.  We decided not to go up, and instead fell asleep in the lawn below.  I woke up after a while and watched some street performers practicing their routine involving soccer balls.  It was interesting, but the girl half of the act would get SUPER frustrated any time there was any mistake and drop kick her soccer ball and act like a general baby.

The Tower of Eiffel

After about 1 hour of this, Blake woke, just in time for them to make it completely through their routine mistake free!  He had no idea what I had been watching for the past 1 hour of my life, but that was ok.

We decided to go for a Fat Tire Bike Tour that night, which turned out to be a fantastic decision.  Remembering what Mike had told me about the propensity of tour guides to lie their asses off, I caught our guide in only one minor lie (we toured much of the same area our “Historical Paris” walking tour had covered earlier.)

I waved to all the people on the bridges and I got about a 66% return wave. I was proud of myself.

We ended the night drinking copious amounts of wine while on a boat riding through the Seine.  Oh yeah, and I saw Owen Wilson bike right by our group heading to the tiny island next to the Notre Dame Island!  I was staring at him, wondering where I knew him from and looking at the girl on the back of the bike.  By the time I realized who it was, he had passed.  I immediately interrupted our guide, but only me, Blake, and one other person had seen him.  Random, I know.  Our guide said that he was probably visiting Johnny Depp, who lives on that island – but who knows.  The guide was probably making that up, but I like to believe it was true.

DINNER!

The next day, we woke up starving, since our dinner the night before had been an ice cream cone and wine.  Note – Blake has pretty much put his insulin dependence in remission on this trip.  The sheer amount of walking and biking and general exercise we have gotten during this trip has rendered it impossible for him to keep up with his eating.  He has gone through all our granola bars and purchased some German equivalent – fondly known as “Corny’s,” which we have almost finished as well.  He woke up low blood sugar, so we found a pastry shop and had our usual breakfast of a sweet pastry and Coca Cola Light.

We found our way to the Orsay and fought the crowds of Asian tourists to see the Monets and Van Goghs.  When we finished, we walked nearby and toured Napolean’s tomb, which was relatively boring BUT the only place in Europe where I have found the epitome of all Magnum Bars – The double caramel.

DOUBLE CARAMEL MAGNUM BAR!!! I FOUND YOU!!

Ever since we arrived in Florence, I have been searching for these little bits of heaven.  Unfortunately, they are not as popular as they were during my first EuroTrip, being replaced by the vastly inferior Magnum Gold.  I have sampled multiple different kinds, vainly hoping to find the delicious caramel version with no luck….until the cafeteria in Napolean’s tomb.  There we bought the ice cream bar (deliciousness resulting from the order of flavors – chocolate, caramel, chocolate, ice cream, chocolate, caramel chocolate – recipe for awesome), and Blake agreed that these need to make it to the US.  Eventually, we found yet another park, where we set up our usual camp (purse and backpack pillows, books, water bottles) and fell asleep.

Sleepy Blake

At this point, we have slept in a park in every single city we have been in.  More than one park, usually.  After a while, we headed over to a bakery to purchase lunch (a cold quiche for me.  Boo.) and watched some little kids play little kid games (it’s amazing they can speak French!  So impressive! – also, we counted 15 children for 4 mom’s.  That is a high kid to mom ratio!  Also, also, Austin – we were in a business district and saw lots of men wearing suits.  I tried to pick out those who were your coworkers, but who knows if I was right.  I chose people who looked like you.)  We then went to Rodin’s Garden and headed out for dinner WHICH WAS AMAZING.  It was our first real dinner of the trip, and I am in love with duck.

We are now sitting on yet another bridge, watching a sunset, drinking red wine (and yes, I am typing on a laptop.)  There was a frightful moment when Blake and I were searching for a bathroom (SO HARD TO FIND), and we thought we might pee away the sunset, but hooray!  We made it.  (We also paid 8 euros for 2 beers in order to use a bathroom.)

The sunset is the other way. Unfortunately, we did not take a picture of it (sorry mom!) BUT! We did take this sweet picture of ourselves...

I have been secretly spying on the drama unfolding with the group of French college students next to me.  I can’t understand a word they are saying, but boy drama is a universal language.  There are two boys vying or the attention of one (rather mediocre) girl.  Guy one, who we will call Curly Hair is there with all his friends – and Guy two, who we will call Black Shirt, recently walked up and stole all Curly Hair’s thunder.  Black Shirt is playing the sexy, silent type whereas Curly Hair is being way too friendly and accessible…..AND….she just made out with Black Shirt.  He pulled the classic, hang back from the group and seal the deal for later in the evening move.  Sneaky.  Curly Hair loses.  Well, that was fun.

Tomorrow is Bastille Day, and we have BIG plans.  They involve sitting in the grass all day.  Probably napping.

PS – Dogs in Europe are leash free!  They just trot along next to their owners with no leashes!  It’s amazing!  They also do not seem to be swayed by strangers.  I have tried to woo a few over to my side by petting them and no.  They are true Europeans.  Their tails don’t even wag.

Au Reviour for now!

Bye from the Knights! (GET IT??)

Berlin Happenings

So, I woke up as usual to Kristi bright and sunshiney early, ready to hit the traills of Berlin. I don’t know what it is about Europe but something makes it where Kristi can’t sleep past 6 am. Probably the lack of air conditioning and apparent sign on our face that says “stick us with a room near the street so we can listen to the street cleaning trucks through our open window before the sun comes up.”

Reichstag upper dome. It's like Willy Wonka's fizzy bubble room!

We started off the day grabbing breakfast in the hostel – which, I should point out turns out to also be a popular place for high school kids (American and otherwise) studying in Berlin to stay; so the entire place had the feel of a summer camp. But whatever. Free breakfast. Anyways, we headed over to tour the Reichstag where the German Parliament does its thing. Something you shoud know about us going into secured areas like this, I have been carrying around a Swiss Army knife  (a gift from Austin’s wedding 6 years ago – look Austin! I’m using it!) in our day bag in the case we need a shank, or (more likely) a spur of the moment beer bottle opener. I forget about it until the moment we are walking into security checkpoints at buildings like this or museums. I quickly look around to see where I can hide it to come back later for retreival, or survey the security staff to see how likely they are to confiscate it. So far I have gotten stopped 3 times, only to smooth them over with my un-terrorist-like beard (riiiiight) into letting me in with it, and twice Kristi has moved through the line quick enough to grab my bag as soon as it comes out of the x-ray machine before anyone has time to ask. Right now I am batting 1,000 and have succesfully gotten a knife into every major stop from Florence to Berlin. Maybe it is because it has a cork-screw on it that they don’t take it seriously as a weapon…

SO. We head on up to the top and get a great 360-degree view of Berlin.

We then decided to try to trek through the main park and head over to the zoo. We weren’t planning on going in to the zoo, just wanted to meaner around the area and check out the big monuments in the park. But we were quickly thwarted by construction in the park. So we tried to go around. Only to find more construction. And more contruction. Turns out, HALF of the enourmous park is undergoing some sort of renovation. But there was one large tower we hoped to see right in the uper part of the park, and knew we could get to it because a major street ran past it, splitting the park in two. So we get there, and… the tower had scaffolding on it for renovation. Of course.

Remains of the Berlin Wall

We make the long way back to the center of town and head to some sort of “food circus” that Kristi has been talking about the whole time, which is on the bottom floor of a mall. Turns out their malls look just like every other building, so we wander around for a while before finally finding it. As soon as we get there I feel low-blood-sugar Blake (LBS Blake) coming on quick and have to sit down and check the BS. It was low. (Edited out how low so I don’t hear parents yelling.) Thankfully Kristi knows exactly what to do and springs into action while I fish out some granola bars from our bag. After a suprisingly delicious mall lunch, all is back to normal.

Being my obsession with all things communist, I wanted to go see the TEMPLE OF TERRRRROOOORRRR (actually called the “Topography of Terror,” but whatever), which is where the headquarters of the Gestapo and SS were located. They have left only the rubble of the building there (not wanting to honor the Nazi’s by rebuilding or puttig up a memorial), with a great little museum describing in great detail the purpose, lives and deaths of those who roamed the halls. I was quite suprised to find that one of the top leaders just died in 2006, and that another was never found, suposedly making his way to Argentina.

Checkpoint Charlie. The McDonalds isn't as obtrusive as it looks in this pic, but Viva Democracy!

Right outside the Temple of Terror is the best spot for remains of the Berlin Wall, and we followed it down a few blocks to Checkpoint Charlie. We opted-out of paying the 12.50 euro for the musuem and just read all the panels outside describing the methods of escape and honoring those who died. Also, hilariously, right next door is “Snackpoint Charlie” and this Mini Cooper ad.

We were exhausted and Kristi started feeling sick so we headed back to get rest. The next morning Kristi was still feeling under the weather so we slept in (until 8!). We only had two things planned for the day, so it was nice to take it a little easier.

I want a Mini Cooper now.

Kristi wanted to go to the German History museums, which turned out to be great. We quickly started slow reading most of the panels, quickly to realize a) we can view Roman ruins in Rome, 2) there is a ton to see here and IV) let’s get to the good stuff. So we skimmed through the medival and rennassance eras and got to WWI and WWII. It was extremely interesting to read about everything from the German perspective, especially when their past is what it is, but they don’t water down anything at all. I doubt you could find this much information or artifacts about Nazis anywhere in the world (which makes sense, I guess). The story from the end of WWI until Hitler’s election, the propaganda, the newspapers, the uniforms, the methods… all engrossing (at least to me). Kristi had to drag me through a couple sections or else we would have been there all day.

We then made our way over to what Rick Steves said was the young, burgeoning scene in Berlin in a neighborhood called Prenzlauer Berg. It was great, turning out to be a little like South Congress in Austin or the Bishop’s Art District in Dallas. We stopped and had lunch, and found an outdoor market going on so mosied our way around there.

Kristi was still feeling a little under the weather, so we thought it would be good to find a nice air-conditioned cinema and catch a movie. The only one we knew of was about 2 miles away, so we started to slowly trek back, trying to jump on the subway but the ticket machines only took coins (of which we had none). So we stopped every few blocks and rested, and even found some cool lomography stores.

AND of course when we got there it was  2 hours until the next showings, but we were somewhat near our hostel so decided to go back (after stopping for a McFlurry) and watch a movie on our computer that I had loaded on here before leaving.

Berlin Taggers

Also, on the way home we ran into these guys tagging this wall. Which apparently is done openly in Berlin and looked upon with a relative reverence.

And because I know the public needs to see this, this was right on the wall above them. Take this as you will, but I see a man looking through a window while his wife goes to the bathroom in his bedroom slippers. Pretty sure we won’t find this in the Louvre anytime soon.

There are no words...

After our own private screening of Interview With The Vampire, and realizing just how cheesy it really was, we headed to bed early. We are leaving the promised land of Germany, and heading into the unknown of Paris. I hope they are as nice and patient as my Bavarian friends are. Either way, we have a week in the most romantic city in the world so I am looking forward to it.

Ich Bin Ein Berliner

The 6 hour train ride from Munich to Berlin was relatively uneventful.  I think I enjoy train travel (except for night train travel, but I’ve said enough about the horrors of that.)  It’s similar to travelling by plane, except that you are given about 3 times the space, and you are allowed to stand up and walk around whenever you want!  The freedom!  My only complaint would be the Eurorail Pass system.  Annoyingly, Blake and I were required to purchase 1st Class tickets at about a $400 surcharge a piece due to our old age (26 and above must purchase 1st class Eurorail tickets.)  This was annoying, but the first class cabin from Zurich to Florence was nothing short of amazing (with drink service!  and snacks!  for free!!), so I felt like at least we were getting something out of these stupid expensive tickets.  That was the last time we saw a 1st class cabin.  Most of the trains seem to not even have 1st class cabins, or they are already booked.  So, we are stuck with the rest of the peasants in coach, much to my dismay.  And they don’t even give us free coke.  Lame.

We arrived in Berlin, and I immediately morphed into Train Station Kristi (she sucks.)  Seems like everytime we arrive in a train station, my stress level sky rockets, exacberated by the heavy back pack on my back – which seems to be doing permanant damage to my lower back (Andrea, am I right??)  Angry and hot, the only person arround to bear the brunt of my uncomfortableness is poor innocent Blake, who at that moment can’t do anything right.  I mean really, how hard is it to magically know which train to take to our hotel and/or carry my pack in addition to his?  Irrationally, I stomped around the train station for a while before Blake has the best idea he has had in his entire life (besides to marry me), he suggests we take a taxi to our hotel, rather than wonder aimlessly in the gigantor of a train station.  Which we do.  It was awesome.  We were dropped off right at our door!

Oh Rick Steves. You give the best advice. I am secretly (not so secretly) in love with you.

Our hotel in Berlin is really a hostel (liars!), but its actually not a bad thing.  For some reason, Blake and I have a sweet 6 bed room (with a private bathroom – we did not pay for that) all to ourselves.  Some helpful person even pushed the beds together, so we sorta have a double bed even!

We set off for some lunch/dinner and ate at this amazing Thai restaurant (don’t worry, I consulted my best friend, Rick Steves, and he informed me that Berlin does not have food it is necessarily known for, so I wasn’t concerned that I was missing out on a quintessential Berlin experience.  Plus, I was more than tired of sausage.)  We then found the mother of all chocolate shops, which became dessert.

Look at my amazing attempt to eat the cathedral made of chocolate!

We had a little taste test of all our purchased truffels (caramel won!) and continued out walk. We missed the starting time for yet another walking tour (this is beginning to be a pattern), so we followed the walking tour outlined in my guidebook.  Beginning at the Reichstag (which had an incredibly long line…we will be going to see that this morning, early),

Hi from the Reichstag!

we walked through the Bradenberg Gate, saw the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (which is a very disconcerting memorial.  You walk through it, and suddenly find yourself sort of trapped.  My toes tingled!  I think its good if a memorial makes your toes tingle), and walked down Unter den Linden – where Mr. Steves informed us of all sorts of East Berlin history.  Oh yeah, and we saw the hotel where Michael Jackson dangled his baby (Blanket, the baby’s name, not the item) from the balcony.  This was Blake’s favorite factoid of the entire walking tour.  We walked all the way to Alexanderplat before we decided that our feet might possibly commit mutiny and run away, leaving us footless and immobile if we didn’t head back soon.  We stopped at our best friend, McDonald’s and had some mozzarella cheese sticks (that’s right) and a Magum McFlurry before heading back into the ghetto (kidding, sorta) to our Hotel/Hostel.

Bradenburg Gate. And Me.

Where we passed out of tiredness.  Seriously, from after dinner on, we walked for 3 hours and 30 minutes.  THAT IS A LONG TIME.

Please don't make me walk anymore, Kristi.

Also, why can’t I sleep here?  This waking up at 6 thing is getting old.

I would also like to mention here my dislike for the Contiki Tour.  We ran into none of these obnoxious tour groups in Florence, but THEY ARE EVERYWHERE IN GERMANY!  Placed there just to annoy me!  They are usually full of Austrailian and US kids about 17 – 19 year’s old.  Drinking themselves silly.  And being loud.  And embarrassing.  Oh man, so embarrasing.  I think this is showing my age, but I can’t imagine the thought process of the parents that allow their children to go on these tours!  They do nothing but drink and barf!  Blake and I watched a giant group of them SLAMMING their 5 pound mugs together (in a misguided attempt at a “cool” CHEERS!), until they BROKE THEM!!  That is so hard to do!  And then one guy started bleeding and attempting to hide his gushing hand from the waiter, who was awesomely German and stern and kicked him out immediately.  It is the ultimate insult from Blake or I to accuse a group of young kids to be on a Contiki Tour (whether or not we know for sure).  Are you annoying one of us by bragging about “drinking and vomiting your way through Wales” while touring the Memorial to the Murdered Jews?  Contiki Tour.  Ok.  Enough about that.

Blake seems to be stirring, so we are off to go to the top of the Reichstag.

BYE!