full circle

we've come full circle, staying in the beautiful B&B where we began the year ...
with two weeks until home.

Finding The Perfect Jeans : A Rant

I had the perfect blue jeans, once. They were used when I got them. They had just reached that beautiful stage of 'broken in' and I didn't even have to do the work to get them there. Unfortunately this also meant that their life expectancy was short, at best, and of course the original store no longer stocked them (since they were perfect). I wore them constantly, until they shredded into cutoffs and then less than cutoffs, and then one day I looked for them in my closet and all I found was a small pile of faded blue thread.

Actually I threw them out before they completely disintegrated.

And now I am on the hunt, once again, for the perfect pair of jeans. You know, the kind that make you feel slim and tall and sexy (even when you are not); the go-to jeans that never let you down when all of your other clothes are, suddenly and inexplicably, ugly. The kind you can dress up with heels for evenings out, and dress down with tank tops for Monday mornings. You could wear them on a roadtrip and never notice, they're so comfortable.

(Do they even exist? you may very well ask. And while we're at it, what is the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything?)

Despite the fact that this kind of 'hunt' is best accomplished if you actually go to a store (or All The Stores), and try on a pair or two (or All The Pairs) - and is subsequently exhausting and disheartening and often futile - I am looking online. I'd prefer to order All The Wrong Jeans and then return All The Wrong Jeans than to live through another shopping spree like this. Ever. Again.

With Anyone. (I'm just going to throw that in, for any of my girlfriends who may be reading this. Don't ask me to go jean shopping with you. I will refuse.)

But (surprise, surprise) I'm not having much luck.

At this point in my life, all I want is a normal looking pair of jeans. That's not asking too much, is it? Yes! It IS! They don't make normal jeans anymore. They make things that go with descriptions like this one: These super-sexy-super-skinny-super-low-strategically-holey-acid-washed-primarily-elastine-bleached-cigarrete pants - with five pockets! (they say this like I should be impressed) are perfect for a Nashville rock look when combined with your studded leather biker jacket and five-inch heels!

Well terrific. I will buy them just as soon as I join a biker gang or turn into Keith Urban.

And the models? Really? Is it also too much to ask that they stand in fairly normal positions when modeling the pants? Yes! It IS! Because clearly I will want to buy them even more if they are posing erotically with a shiny Ken-doll man (who, incidentally, is wearing the same pants)! To think, my new Perfect Jeans may someday be on the cover of a cheap romance novel. Of course, this would be the ultimate affirmation to me that I have, in fact, bought the correct item.

Other poses that will make me buy your jeans:

Knees-in, Calves-out, Point-the-right-toe Pose. I don't know how else to describe this, but no one in their right mind stands like that. If I get in a car accident and am permanently disfigured in this exact position, then I will consider buying your pants. Although how I will put them on in the first place is beyond me.

The High-Knee Crossover Pose. I mean, do you have to pee? If I put my left leg down, are these pants still going to look like pants?

The Scissor-Walk Pose. No one else in The Whole World has legs as long as you, I get it. You win. So could you please just direct me to the jeans that will go to my hips, not my chin? I'll buy a shirt for that, thanks.

The Shirt Pose. I'm sorry, I know this isn't about your shirt - but if you are going to stretch it way out to the left like that, then I probably won't even notice your jeans. I'm much too interested in what you're going to do after you let go, and half your shirt is hanging down to your ankles while the other half is still crop-top.

The Booty Pose. You are unbelievably sexy, yes - but I will actually need to see the front of your pants at some point. I know you think it's unnecessary, but I'd like to know they actually have a front before I purchase them. 

The Tricky Pose. I'm just saying, some of these look tricky enough to be painful. Here's a little tip from me to you: if you're standing in a position that makes you look like you have a hernia, I don't want your pants.

While I'm on the topic, I have two final requests. 

1) I think I'd stand a better chance of finding the perfect jeans if, in your product descriptions, you did not find it necessary to use any of the following words: 

Whiskered. (Are we referring to the various lines primarily fanning out from the zipper? Good thinking. Because it's every girls dream to have whiskers like that, there.)
Rodeo. (Are you going to throw in a free pair of stirrups? They don't have to be new; just give me the ones you used to do that whisker thing.)
Surprise Rhinestones. (Imagine that. And, why?)
Brittney. (...)
Curious. (Yes. I've seen this.)
Foil. (Whatever that means.)

And 2)

Could you please refrain from writing 'Congratulations! Free Shipping For You!!!!!' (like it's a lucky, undeserved bonus) next to the product that will (presumably) take half a lifetime to find and then cost $500 (as well as my arm and leg and firstborn child)? I want the free shipping, I do, but really.

It's the least you could do.

So Long Little Studio

m o v i n g     t o m o r r o w

The studio apartment is empty again - everything gone but the bed, the coffee maker, and the things we'll take with us; mostly packed. We move into a B&B tomorrow. Feels a little like camping in your own living room, eating cold cereal from styrofoam bowls, cups and pillows and tiny plastic pirates scattered across the floor. 

Seems odd that our two and half years in Denmark are almost up.
Odder still, we have no idea where we're going next.
Actually, I like that about us.

Roadtrip, Days 17-21 // Germany

This bird lives in Zurich and has nothing to do with the post I am about to write.

Photo-op the morning we left Switzerland, with Tim's colleague NingYu.
As you can see, none of us are morning people.

Before Germany, we went to Liechtenstein (so we could say, 'Hey, we've been to Liechtenstein' - what else). At the risk of sounding moronic, I'll admit I didn't realize this was a country until we were there. You can drive from one end to the other in less than half an hour, and it looks exactly like Switzerland. We had coffee and sent a couple postcards (and yes, we thought about Sir Ulrich quite a bit on our way out).

Incidentally, Liechtenstein is officially the 18th country Isaac has visited. Lucky little five year old.

Afterwards, we drove to Neuschwanstein Castle and took the tour of the finished rooms. Whereas the Bavarian countryside was stunning ...

 ... The castle itself was a bit disappointing. The photos we'd seen on postcards were taken from the air and beautifully photoshopped, and did not at all resemble the castle we were able to see from ground-view on an overcast day. It did, however, come with a charming story:

Once upon a time, Ludwig II built the castle as a homage to Richard Wagner, and, after spending an eternity and a fortune on the intricate designs and advanced technology (including a real telephone, which he could never use because no one else he knew actually had one), he was only able to live there for a short time before he was informed of his own insanity and removed to a facility where he drowned.

It's a great story. If they make a movie, I will definitely not watch it.

We spent the night at a hostel in Heidelberg, and explored the charming downtown area the following morning. Cobbled streets, colorful cafés (pictured next to Liechtenstein), public outdoor weddings. This was the fifth or sixth wedding party we'd seen since leaving Denmark, and by far my favorite because the bride wore a pillbox hat with a netted veil, the groom smoked a cigar on his way out the door, and the getaway car was vintage.

After Heidelberg we continued on to Wolfshagen Im Harz, a quiet village just outside Berlin, and a last minute alteration to our roadtrip because we didn't feel like staying in Heidelberg another night - and the restaurant-hotel we'd found (run by a friendly couple from Montenegro) was practically the same price as the hostel. 

In the morning, after a little laundromat detour ... (the friendliest laundromat in the world - one man even stopped to wish me well on his way out the door. Actually what he said was, "Good luck with your wash. I hope it will be clean enough." And I think I said thank you but now I'm not sure; it was a confusing moment for me) ...

... We continued on to Berlin.

We stayed in Berlin two nights, canvased much of the downtown area by foot and visited several monuments as well as the Checkpoint Charlie museum.

We could have stayed in the museum for hours, just taking in the stories, photographs, and art displayed on all the walls - the heartbreak and hardship interspersed with ingenious escape plans and moving paintings about how the wall affected the citizens of Berlin.

In particular, I loved this quote by philosopher Ernst Bloch:

'The testimony of artists and poets has enabled us to understand the hopes in the past and so to recognize the potentials of the future.'

Isaac, pre-haircut, standing in front of a BMW Isetta. The Isetta was considered too small to transport hidden passengers, and was subsequently exempt from inspection. Of course, someone figured out how to modify the 'trunk' space in order to fit a small person inside, and then used it to carry several people to freedom. They were only discovered after an untimely sneeze which shook the whole vehicle while the driver was standing outside ... and it was all up for the Isetta after that.

Tim and Isaac standing in front of a remaining piece of the Berlin Wall.

There are several pieces like this one throughout the entire city, transformed into art and occasionally connected by a stone path that marks where the wall once stood.

Me and my babe (post haircut).

We also visited the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe - pictured below. The memorial is composed of over 2700 concrete slabs of varying heights and arranged across a paved, sloping landscape of just under 5 acres. Although the memorial is said to have created much controversy, I found it beautiful. It isn't something you can overlook, and once you've seen it you have to ask what it means.

And so art continues to tell a story.

... And the next day we went home.

21 days, 2 trains, 2 planes, 5000+ km in the car, 10 countries, 11 beds, hundreds of photos, an extraordinary amount of Asian cuisine (don't ask), and a 'clean enough' load of laundry later ... And we were finally back in Denmark!

It's odd to arrive in a country that is not your own, and yet feel such an overwhelming sense of relief that everything is, once again, familiar.

Maison Blunt, Zurich

Loved everything about this Moroccan restaurant in downtown Zurich. The floor tiles, natural lighting, mismatched chairs and soft-wood tabletops, notebook paper menus, blue glass and fresh cut flowers, and the food - oh, the food. So many ideas for my someday coffeehouse.

Road Trip, Day 10-15 // Switzerland (so far)

'Ohh! Beautiful! Gorgeous. Wish you were here.'

After leaving Lake Garda, we drove up Swiss Hwy. 6, through the mountain pass - from warm and sunny Italy to chilly snow-capped mountain tops - with so many breath-taking views.

As much as I loved seeing this, I was very happy in Lake Garda, in the sun, in my little dresses. The farther we drove up the mountain the sadder I got ... and the happier Tim became (he loves the great outdoors, as long as they are freezing).

But it was worth it, to see this:

We were booked to stay in Bern two nights, but cancelled the second and decided to wing it. Bern is a beautiful (and very clean) city - but after one Saturday at the outdoor market, being pushed and prodded by crowds of people - we were more than ready to head back to the hills.

Confession: Sometimes when I am surrounded by throngs of people, I get the overwhelming urge to reenact a scene from Undercover Blues - you know, the one in which Kathleen Turner's character pretends to have a seizure, falls on the ground, and starts kicking and thrashing at the crowd.  

I am more than a little concerned about this development in my personality.
I don't wish to discuss it any longer.

In a coffeehouse in Bern. Apparently it's become a 'thing' of mine to photograph elderly gentlemen in coffeehouses when travelling. I can't help it - look at how adorable he is. 

Me and my babe. He is definitely my kid - you can tell.

After leaving Bern we ended up in Eigenthal - a handkerchief-sized hamlet in the middle of the Alps - so small it didn't even make the map.

... So naturally we decided to stay, because Tim loves the mountains best and I am (apparently) turning into one of those people ... you've met them - the ones who drive for days just to visit a tiny town in the Northeast Georgia mountains, to 'oooh' and 'awww' over the falling leaves. The ones I always thought were kooks as a kid. I have joined their ranks: "LOOK! A COW! ANOTHER COW! A TREE! A ROCK! LOOK AT ME! I AM ON A RUN! I AM RUNNING BETWEEN THE TREE AND THE ROCK! ISN'T THIS LITERALLY THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD?!"

Yep.

Just us, a handful of homes, and dozens of cows with brass bells around their necks.

It was a perfect night.
And the next day we left for Zurich:

Today is our fourth day in Zurich and we will leave Friday morning. Tim is attending a Thermoelectrics conference this week, and Isaac and I are doing a little sight-seeing and a little hibernating. There's been a lot of rain.

Zurich is classy - a city of fine dining and upscale shopping where I am entirely out of place (she says, while typing away on a laptop that is coming apart at the seams, and wearing a secondhand Free People sweater that may actually be more hobo than boho).

They do have excellent parks (but they are mostly wet), and excellent cafes (but they are mostly expensive) ... And we are on a budget (which we've more or less been on for two years, and is how we've managed to take this trip in the first place. And by that, yes I do mean that we've been living in a kitchenless one-room apartment on a fairly bland diet in clothes that are unraveling).  

I think this place considers me its equal, so I took a picture of it:

Then again ... I didn't check its prices so there's a good chance I can't afford it, either.

Luckily, the hotel has a complimentary breakfast and we were able to find a nearby grocery store to buy lunch food. Dinners we eat out with Tim's colleague(s) - Chinese food (authentic, home-cooked, compliments of friends we met stateside - !), Mexican food (last night), and tonight maybe Moroccan (we are hoping to go into multicultural shock - 10 countries in 3 weeks and food from Everywhere Else). 

Yes we are trying things from the countries we visit as well. In particular, I am trying to taste all their wines (does this count?).

It was in Zurich that we discovered Isaac's undying love for umbrellas. As you can see. Fortunately for us, he insists on carrying one wherever we go. Unfortunately for us, he also thinks they are light-sabers.

Window shopping. We've done a lot of window shopping over the past few days. Incidentally, Zurich has an expensive antique teddy bear shop, an expensive flamboyant hat shop, two expensive secondhand shops, and, I'm sorry to say, what appears to be an entire shop dedicated to expensive wooden mushrooms.

The good news is ... I've seen many men who resemble George Clooney (for whatever reason), and that has been delightful.

Roadtrip, Day 9 // Lake Garda

Lake Garda, Italy. Clear blue water surrounded by colorful villages, towering Alps, and green vineyards - one of the most beautiful places I have ever been.

We stayed two nights, explored the little towns, soaked up some sun, had some pizza, went swimming, took a long run beside the water ... And then headed off for the Alps.

As you can see by the size of my cup (beside Isaac), Italians don't believe in coffee-to-go. Or coffee in substantial cups. So I took the paper shot glass and fell asleep within the hour.
 

Roadtrip, Day 7 // Venice

Clearly I have failed my goal to blog-post daily about this roadtrip. In my defense, I had no idea we wouldn't have internet when traveling. Supposedly we will have access while staying in Zurich over the next few days (where Tim has a Thermoelectrics conference until Friday) - and also tonight! We are staying in a beautiful village in the middle of the Alps.

So. I left off at Venice.

A storybook city of canals. We stayed in an adorable B&B in Marghera, just a ten minute bus ride away from Venice, and visited the city by day. I liked it best in the early morning, before the throng of tourists arrived, when the shops were still closed and the cafe's just opening.

A city of carnival masks, canals, window-box gardens, and colorful, narrow alleys.

We had breakfast at Cafe Doge, which we'd read had The Best Coffee In Venice ... and I think it's actually true. Possibly The Best Coffee in Europe.

At breakfast, sitting outside in the alley.

I adored the waterfront homes, with their small boats tied up and waiting; the marketplace, with fresh fish and vegetables; and the colors of the city.

And yes, I did the tourist thing and bought a mask.

The following morning, we visited Verona - saw the Arena as well as Romeo and Juliet's balcony (and also the statue of Juliet, although we didn't quite make it close enough to rub her breast for luck - how did this become a tradition? I have no idea, but one breast is indeed far shinier than the other).

And then we drove into heaven. I mean, wine country.  Red and yellow villas with apricot-colored rooftops, miles and miles of perfect green vines, and hazy blue Alps in the distance. We took a private tour of Le Bignele Vineyard (which I definitely recommend, if you're in the area) and tasted five wines - Roso Veronese, and four Valpolicellas: Classico Superiore, Ripasso, Amarone , and Recioto Classico. I loved all but the last (Tim's favorite). 

And then we left for Lake Garda ... which is, quite possibly, one of the most beautiful places on earth. I will post about it once we get to Zurich.

This is my kid road-tripping with his bright blue headphones. ♥

Roadtrip, Day 6 // Croatia

Where the sun is. Such a warm, colorful, salty place. 

I could stay here forever, in a boat on the marina ... 

Or in one of the painted houses with the wash hanging on the line to dry. 

The Roadtrip So Far, on Instagram: http://instagram.com/laurenholgate#

Roadtrip, Day 5 // Budapest to Croatia

We left Budapest this morning, and are on our way to Croatia. Every so often, Tim stops and squints at a sign, and says, “But WHAT does it mean?!” And then we just keep going.

It took us a long time to get out of Budapest because apparently Hungarians do not believe in left turns. Or breakfast food. Which is unfortunate.

That being said, they’ve got the coffee thing down pat.

We had coffee this morning at Eco Café on Andrassy Avenue, and I think I’m in love. It’s an organic coffeehouse with some of the best coffee I’ve had in Europe, and the building is beautiful - high ceilings, white walls, hardwood floors, and natural lighting. The front steps are lined with potted herbs, and there are wooden crates filled with fresh oranges, organic pastries in paper bags, and burlap-covered notebooks. It has the perfect feel for a coffeehouse.

Halfway through our drinks, the Nike half-marathon runners filed past the window, and all the running-addicts in the café started twitching. Or possibly it was just me. Life in Denmark has turned me into some kind of weirdo who thinks she has to run whenever she sees other people running. I’m hoping I’ll be able to run in Croatia tonight.

I am a little sorry to leave Budapest. It is one of my favorite European cities so far, and there is so much left to explore. Of course, the upside in taking a roadtrip like this is that you get to see a great deal in a small amount of time, and you spend less. (Our only option, considering time and monetary restrictions, and not a bad one at that.) The downside is that you don’t get to fully explore your surroundings, meet the locals, know the good spots – although sometimes I think that in order to really see a city you must live there for a bit.

... But you do what you can to see what you can, for the love of travel, and you understand the world better for it. (Unless you are five, in which case you are primarily pleased with the helium balloon your father bought for you in the park, and you pose for a series of photographs across Europe only to please your mother … who now has a flipbook of you standing before stunning cities and historical monuments, your expression disinterested and slightly hostile.)

Budapest is overflowing in monuments, museums, and cathedrals, and although the architecture hasn’t been maintained as well as, say, Prague, or modernized like parts of Vienna, it has a distinct cultural and historical feel that makes it beautiful.

We spent yesterday wandering the streets by foot (doing the tourist thing, with the camera, as always), admiring St. Stephen’s Basilica and Buda Castle, crossing the Szechenyi Chain Bridge over the Danube and taking the footpath up Castle Hill (where I took five hundred photos of the river flowing between Buda and Pest), and stopping in at little cafés for drinks, ice cream, and people-watching. I only wish I knew which Hungarian wine the waitress brought me when I asked for ‘dry, white, local’ (which is, sadly, the extent of my wine preference and/or knowledge).

We also took a tour of the Hungarian State Opera House and learned the history of the building, as well as other amusing facts including how the King of Vienna was offended that the Budapest Opera House was more beautiful than his own, although smaller, and left halfway through the first performance. Due to the Hungarian customs, his royal box could not be used by anyone unless he was present (aside from Madonna, who recently occupied the box on a visit to Hungary), and his queen had to choose a new box for herself. She chose the top left, where she could only see half the performance, but could be seen by the entire auditorium - which suited her, because she was exceedingly vain.

After the tour they treated us to a mini-opera in the royal bar room, which was beautiful and moving and the only live opera singing I’ve ever heard (although probably I should stop admitting things like this, what with my recent confessions regarding my cheap shoes, my wine ignorance, and my preference for hostels over hotels). Someday I will go to the opera and it won’t be in a bar.

Unfortunately we missed the circus (it seemed only fitting that we celebrate Tim’s 31^st birthday at the circus since we went to the zoo for my birthday), but apparently it doesn’t come to Budapest until mid-October. Eh well, next time, right? Instead, and despite our tired feet, we took a little detour through Hero’s Square and the surrounding neighborhoods, stopped somewhere for dinner, and got ourselves a little preview of the city night life (there’s only so much you can do with a five year old in tow).

We were almost back to our room when we saw the beautiful lights flying above the Parliament building, floating and swirling in the sky like hundreds of fireflies, if fireflies were the size of swallows. I asked a local what they were, and she said she didn’t know, she had never seen them before - but we should thank the city for the view.

If you know, please tell me. I want to buy some and set them free above my someday-coffeehouse - and then, when asked what they are, I will say, “Oh, those are fireflies from Budapest.”

… later that night …

P.S. Hi Mom. We made it to Northern Croatia after many hours driving through the countryside of Slovenia (think West Virginia). We are staying in a small coastal town by the marina, and tomorrow night we’ll be on our way to Venice. Much love.