Well, I had been planning on writing a blog post about my traveling around England, Ireland, Holland, and Belgium with friends of mine from Pittsburgh, but instead ran out of time and will be leaving for yet another epic adventure, biking from Istanbul to Munich, over the next six weeks. My best mate Will and I have set up a blog especially for the occasion, so we'll be posting our stories during that time. Here's our blog: http://thefunkyangloboys.wordpress.com/
Lou
The Hungry Philosopher
The musings, experiences, recipes, and photos of an student ever-hungry for knowledge, travel, and (of course) good food.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Sunday, July 8, 2012
Still roaming around Europe...
Well! I just noticed today that it has almost been a full two months since I've posted anything, so I thought it might be a nice idea to write a bit o' something to keep this blog alive! In lieu of writing a la paragraphs, here's a play-by-play of what I've been up to in the past few months since I've posted last:
mid- to late-May: spent two weeks in Paris learning how to manage a restaurant while couchsurfing, making new friends, seeing old ones, and biking around just about everywhere in Paris, checking out food markets, patisseries, cafes, and parks
early June: headed to Berlin for a few days to spend with Will; busked for another time on the U-Bahn, then head back to Munich for a week
mid-June to early-July: met up with Wren, Kimmi, and Kevyn (friends from Pittsburgh) in Newcastle, England and traveled through norethern England and Ireland via rental car. Went to a beer festival outside Newcastle the first night, saw the Lake District for three days while couchsurfing with a Slovenian family, drove down to Wales to take the ferry to Dublin, met up with a friend from Cologne in Dublin, drove to the west coast (Galway, Killarney, Dingle, Beara Peninsula) for four or five days. Kim and Kev went home from there and Wren and I continued on to Holland and Belgium, seeing Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Antwerp, Brugges, Gent, and Brussels.
early-July: visited friends in Goettingen, Hamburg, Rostock, and am now sitting in Berlin hanging with Will.
Imminent plans: flying to Istanbul with my bike and Will to bike back to Munich through former Yugoslavia over the course of six weeks!
mid- to late-May: spent two weeks in Paris learning how to manage a restaurant while couchsurfing, making new friends, seeing old ones, and biking around just about everywhere in Paris, checking out food markets, patisseries, cafes, and parks
early June: headed to Berlin for a few days to spend with Will; busked for another time on the U-Bahn, then head back to Munich for a week
mid-June to early-July: met up with Wren, Kimmi, and Kevyn (friends from Pittsburgh) in Newcastle, England and traveled through norethern England and Ireland via rental car. Went to a beer festival outside Newcastle the first night, saw the Lake District for three days while couchsurfing with a Slovenian family, drove down to Wales to take the ferry to Dublin, met up with a friend from Cologne in Dublin, drove to the west coast (Galway, Killarney, Dingle, Beara Peninsula) for four or five days. Kim and Kev went home from there and Wren and I continued on to Holland and Belgium, seeing Amsterdam, Rotterdam, Antwerp, Brugges, Gent, and Brussels.
early-July: visited friends in Goettingen, Hamburg, Rostock, and am now sitting in Berlin hanging with Will.
Imminent plans: flying to Istanbul with my bike and Will to bike back to Munich through former Yugoslavia over the course of six weeks!
Monday, May 21, 2012
How time flies...
Man! It's been a while since I've written a post, and I've already had during that period way too many experiences to write about them successfully in one post: traveling with my dad and stepmom around Bavaria, Austria, and Czech Republic; running a marathon in Luxembourg; and I'm about to head to Paris tomorrow to embark on a two-week cooking adventure, working in an Italian restaurant and learning the tricks of the trade from a kindly man from Rome! Right now I'm sitting here in Luxembourg fighting off post-marathon exhaustion, packing my things for the early journey tomorrow and getting excited for Paris! I'd love to say more about what I've been up to, or at least some random recipe or another cool piece of writing, but all I have the time or stamina for is to say that many stories will come soon! So keep posted!
Friday, April 20, 2012
Paris to Vienna with Me Ma
There are some moments I want to talk about. Moments of reflection.
Those moments of reflection that you experience, after not having taken time to
reflect for a long time. During which long time you’ve done so much more than
you can recall, even in the most lucid moment of reflection. So much more, that
when that instant of reflection finally breaks through the thick barrier of
constant and unbroken experience and accomplishment, it shatters that pristine
unity into a thousand tiny fragments, some of which fall between the cracks of active
consciousness and reflective thought, never to be retrieved again.
This is how I feel after the last several weeks of my life. After a fantastic blur of trains, cars,
couches, and hotel rooms, I have finally settled down for a second to breathe
and realized just how much I’ve done even since I last wrote. This entry will
be the feeble attempt to piece together those last couple of weeks in some
semblance of coherent order for you to understand. Here goes the impossible....
So. I've been traveling with me ma across Europe over the past two weeks. Our first stop was Paris, where I met
her. We decided to take this vacation very relaxed...not have a full schedule
of things to do or see every day, but rather to have a couple ideas in mind,
and seeing how the day progressed. The main goal of each day was to eat and eat
well. Among the multitude of comestibles we rapaciously consumed, the items we
devoured the most were wine, cheese, and yes, pastries. Lots of pastries. From several patisseries a day. More
than any being should consume and still have a properly functioning heart. From
croissants to macarons, pain au chocolat and tartelettes, they were delicious
every time. I’ve never been to place with such a highly developed pastry
culture, and my oh my was it tasty! But they culinary adventures didn’t end at
the patisseries...one day we even lunched in the Champ du Mars just before the
Eiffel Tower on a grand feast of cheese, baguette, and red wine. Also, we
visited a couple of great bistros, at which I had escargot, black pudding over
roasted apples, and other delectables.
Mmmmm apricot tart!!! |
Of all our gastronomic escapades, one stands out above the rest. This
is the first time something like this has ever happened to me, something that
doesn’t happen just any old day. It happened when went to an Italian
restaurant—Augusto, in the 3rd arr.—for lunch with my couchsurfing
host around the corner from his apartment, a little two-man operation tucked
away on a small street. Throughout the meal, the chef/owner came to speak with
us a few times, as he is friends with my host and likes speaking with his
customers. During the course of the chat, it was mentioned that I want to open
a cafe and so we got onto the topic of running a restaurant and the like.
Anyway, by the end of the conversation, after having expressing interest in
wanting to work in my cafe for a little bit once I get it operational, he ended
up doing offering me something beyond my wildest dreams: the chance to work
under him for two weeks, to learn how to manage a restaurant by myself!
And so it shall be: after emailing him a few times to agree upon a
date, we decided that I’ll come back on May 20 and work there until June 3.
Although he’s unfortunately not able to pay me, his teachings will more than
compensate for whatever money he could give me. This is the perfect opportunity
to learn exactly the skills I need to for opening my own, small restaurant,
from how to manage inventory to which food suppliers to look for. And I’ll doubtless pick up some fantastic
recipes along the way! I’ll have to dedicate an entire blog post to these two
weeks—so look for it in a couple of months!
Me and me ma before that big tower thingy |
Our stay in Paris culminated the
next day with another lovely occurrence, albeit planned rather than a surprise
like the last. On our last evening there, we met up with two couchsurfing
friends, Justin and Flo, whom I hosted in Pittsburgh the autumn before last.
They are a couple who’ve been living and studying in Paris for the last few
years, and I had intended to visit them since arriving in Europe in September.
They took us to a small bistro with—allegedly—the best steak tartare in town.
While I had nothing to compare it against, it certainly was delicious. But never mind the food. Seeing those two again was
lovely. So far, I’ve seen most couchsurfers whom I’ve hosted or whom have
hosted me at least one more time, usually in a different corner of the world.
It’s so lovely to make such lasting connections within the couchsurfing
community, even though circumstances usually don’t presage our seeing each other
again after the initial meeting. I fully intend on hanging out with them some
more when I go back!
Me and my couchsurfing friends David (second from left) and Justin (third from left) with one of David's friends. We just so happened to run into David while heading to dinner. |
After Paris, my mother and I took a train to Cologne. Due to negligence
to double-check our schedule, we ended up missing our train because I thought we
were taking a later one than we actually were. Which unfortunately led to us
having to buy last-minute tickets, which were by no means cheap (sorry Mom!).
Anyway, along the way we had to sit in between carriages on the fold-down seats
near the lavatory since the Thalys was over-booked (as always, apparently). But
it ended up not being too bad, especially since randomly I had a chat with
another Fulbrighter, who just so happened to also come from Pittsburgh, who’s a teaching assistant near Hanover.
What are the chances!
In Cologne, while my mother swam in the hotel pool, I took the chance
to enjoy a two-hour run along the good ol’ Rhein, my old pal of yore. For
dinner that eve, we met up with Mark, my friend from Duquesne who moved to
Cologne to marry the love of his life, Katharina, whom he met in Pittsburgh
when she was an exchange student there. My mom had her first taste of Kölsch,
Cologne’s famous brew, as well as a proper Cologne Brauhaus experience at
Päffgen, a non-touristy favorite hang of the locals. Two days later, on Easter
Sunday, we took to the Dom for the biggest Easter mass I’ve ever been to in my
life (I mean, it’s only in the fourth largest cathedral in the world...).
Though I was there three years ago for the very same service, my mother hadn’t
seen it yet, and was quite delighted to have gone. And while I’m not into all
the whole religion thing, I must admit I was quite impressed with not only the
service, but also the setting. Gotta give ‘em some respect.
That afternoon, we boarded another train (the right one this time)
headed for Munich. The whole ride we were looking forward to enjoying our first
home-cooked meal of the whole trip, but were unpleasantly surprised when I went
for my run the next morning. Apparently, the day after Easter is also considered a holiday in Germany, and thus all
the stores were closed, including, most oddly, most of the restaurants. Since I
had been in Berlin the month before our trip, I had absolutely no food in my
apartment, and so we were forced to go out yet again. We met Michael, one of my
best mates here, for dinner at a Greek restaurant in Schwabing. Otherwise our
stay in Munich was quite peaceful, walking around the city center and enjoying
the hoards of buskers that were out that day. The next day (Tuesday) we shipped
off for Vienna on yet another train.
Serious buskers in Munich |
Vienna was definitely our favorite city. The ‘City of Music’ indeed—every
night, there’s quite lit’rally two operas, three musicals, a couple of plays, a
handful of symphonies, and every other kind of performance imaginable being put
on. Of course, we took full advantage of such offerings, seeing three concerts
(two classical piano, pieces by Bach and Chopin, and latin flamenco-jazz by
Diego el Cigala). Otherwise we relaxed, supping on (of course) much schnitzel,
strudel, and Sacher Torte. Though I must say the Sacher Torte was a bit of a
disappointment, the coffee was certainly not. We also found a lovely restaurant
that offers dishes centered on apples and potatoes, two main crops of Austria,
near our hotel: Jonathan und Sieglinde, Riemergasse 16, 1010 Wien. They had
most delicious creations (including, thankfully, lots of veggie dishes), and
the most extensive selection of apple wines, juices, and ciders I’ve ever seen.
It’s rare to see such creativity, albeit simple, in restaurants these days.
Above all ones that offer more than just a couple vegetarian dishes.
Sacher Torte and a coffee-hot chocolate drink at Cafe Mozart |
We also visited the Museum Albertina, one of the most well-laid out and
structured collections of art I’ve been to. Not only did they show their
artwork chronologically, but they also gave extensive biographies of the artists
whose work in prominent in their collection, as well as a good deal of context
behind their paintings. For once, instead of aimlessly wandering through a
confused maze of colors, I learned about the significance of painters’
contributions to the art world, and what they did to become famous. The two
rotating exhibits were on Impressionism and Gustav Klimt’s drawings.
Well after four days in Vienna, I saw my mother off to the airport,
from where she flew to Paris to catch a connecting flight to Pittsburgh the
next day. Her flight was at 6:20 in the morn, so I returned to the hotel and
slept till check-out, moving myself and my bag to yet another couchsurfing
friend’s place, whom I had hosted in Munich over New Year’s a few months ago. Kathi
was quite busy, needing to study for a large test and I was pretty exhausted
from my extensive jaunting across Europe, so we just pretty much hung out for
the weekend, watching a movie and cooking together when not reading or
studying. I made her a lemon meringue pie, which we ate after enjoying some mushroom
risotto and red cabbage salad. After a day and a half’s rest at Kathi’s place,
I caught one last train home to the Münch, to actually live in my apartment
again after nearly two months of not being there for more than three
consecutive days.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Hitchhiking Diaries, Part 3: Berlin to Paris
Well, I suppose it's the time again to write a blog post. And what a time indeed: so much has happened in this past week! So much so that I'm afraid that I have only one story to tell--but hang on--it's quite a doozy, this one! The basic story is that I hitchhiked from Berlin to Paris to meet my mother, who has come to visit me for a two-week adventure in France, Germany, and Austria. But the interesting bits are in the fuller description of what happened that day!
As my hitchhiking prowess and experience has been increasing since I began in February, I've been also hitching increasingly farther distances. This past trip to Paris was by a long shot my farthest: just over 1,000km, compared to my second longest, Munich to Cologne (600km). Add to that the fact that I was to meet my mother at the Charles de Gaulle Airport outside of Paris two days after I began my journey, and things start to get interesting. For if I for some reason unable to meet my mother there....well, who knows what would have happened. But I may not be typing this right now...
Anyway, with such a long trip I had a lot of firsts. First hitch from a trucker, first hitch at night, first time getting stranded miles from a viable hitching spot, having then to walk for a couple hours before finding one. But enough lead-in. I'll just tell you what happened!
The journey began last Friday morning, bright and early at 8am, when I left William's apartment in Berlin to take the public transit to the hitching spot, the rest stop Michendorf well south of town. It takes a while to get there, since Berlin is a massive city by area, so it wasn't until 9:45 or so till I was there and looking for a hitch. That morning passed pretty uneventfully, cloudy and chilly, without many cars stopping to refill their tank or take a break from the Autobahn. I was feeling quite anxious about whether I'd make it the whole way to Paris, and whether I'd have to sleep randomly somewhere outside (not that I wasn't prepared both physically and mentally--I had my sleeping bag and was fully expecting the day to end that way), and so wasn't at all encouraged by the sparsity of drivers. Because of this, I was shier than usual, ruling out certain cars before I could know for certain that they wouldn't take me. You see, the type of people who usual pick up hitchers are men driving alone, so when I see a family or women, I tend not to ask out of common sense. But this day I was being overly cautious. After seeing one car pull up around 11:00am which appeared to be a couple with a teenage son, I immediately ruled them out. But then when the 'father' and 'son' got out, I decided to ask the 'son' just for fuck's sake. To my surprise, he seemed obliging, but wanted to defer the final decision to the 'father,' who, upon being asked once he joined our conversation, simply laughed. When he saw me standing there with my guitar and hiker's bag, he knew I was going to ask, and was waiting until I did! What was more, he was heading to Limburg, a small city between Frankfurt and Cologne---a good 500km away, about halfway to Paris in one go! So we shifted the luggage in his car, piled in, and headed for Limburg.
Not only was it an incredible feeling to get a ride from people I thought surely wouldn't be able to take me, but they were also an interesting bunch. The 'father' and 'son', who actually were old enough to fit their respective roles, turned out to be just friends, while the 'mother' was a thirty-something Vietnamese guy who didn't speak German (in my defense, he was lying down when the car pulled up, and I couldn't see his face!). They were all making a pilgrimage of sorts to see the 'Holy Mother'/'Lebendiger Gott '(living god), some self-proclaimed Indian prophet who had ended her world travels in Limburg, feeling that the energy in Germany was just perfect for the kind of spiritualism or whatever she was looking for. They deferred most of my questions about her and what they were doing to a book about her that they handed me, that just confused me even more. So I just shrugged my shoulders, pretended to understand, and had a lovely conversation with them about other random topics. Since I had only slept four hours the night before in my usual last-minute packing ritual, I soon nodded off with the other passengers, getting some much-needed zzzzs along the five-hour ride.
After discussing with the driver about where would be best to drop me off, I opted for the city of Limburg itself instead of the previous rest stop, which was 60km before the city. I figured that because Limburg was small, and that I had stopped at a cool rest stop in Limburg before on a previous hitch, it would be better to walk the little bit to the stop and ride 60 more kilometers than stopping short at a hitching spot. Boy, was I never so wrong! It turns out that the rest stop I was thinking of either doesn't exist, or isn't by the city of Limburg at all. After scouting out where the A3 highway was, I headed in that direction, walking up some pretty serious hills until getting to a point where two highways intersected. I had come to a pretty serous obstacle--the rest stop I needed to be at was on the other side of both highways, diagonally across the intersection, and there weren't any sidewalks or smaller roads going over or under the highways, which meant no easy way to get there. As it turned out, I had to walk about 5km all told, getting lost and having to reorient myself several times. I called William to see what the quickest path would be, getting help from a dude who accurately guessed that I needed some who approached me as I was on the phone. Along the way after getting directions from him, I had to keep asking. It didn't help that half the locals I asked either didn't know where the rest stop was or didn't believe it existed, while the other half affirmed that it was there. After spending a solid two hours walking, I finally arrived at the rest stop, around 4:30pm. I've never been so grateful to see a gas station along a highway.
Feeling full of positive energy after getting through the treacherous maze I had just blindly ambled through, I wore a smile and began asking. This go round it only took half the time to find a ride (30 minutes), receiving one from a Belgian businessman who spoke nearly perfect English. He was going to the Belgian-Dutch border, but only as far as Aachen along the same way I needed to go. At this point, being 5pm, I was considering getting let out at Cologne and spending the night with one of the many friends I have there, finishing the 450km or so in the morning. I was pretty indecisive when Walter (my driver) had asked me where I wanted to get out, but then a wave of optimism and determination swept over me, and I told him I wanted to see how far I could hitch that day, and so went the last rest stop before Aachen, right near the Belgian border. Besides my curiosity for how far I could keep going and my will not to quit early, I had plans to stay with a rad couchsurfing host that night in Paris, coupled with the fact that I wanted to spend as much time in Paris as possible, so I pushed onward. Walter was a legit dude, holding one of the most interesting and lively conversations I've had so far while hitchhiking.
From this point onward, my optimism was through the roof, which was appropriately reflected with the more positive responses I was getting from drivers. At Aachen, it only took around 10 minutes to get a ride, and even from someone who didn't speak either English or German. He was a Hungarian trucker (who's Hungarian name I forget...started with an 's'...), who gave me my first ride in a semi! And he did speak a little German, but just not enough to hold a continuous conversation. We were able to communicate through the universal language of hand gestures, facial expressions, and random noises, and had a rad time together. He was a really nice dude, who usually picks us hitchhikers (even though his boss tells him not to). At first I thought I was only going to Liege, not even 100km from Aachen, but then he told me he was going all the way to the Belgian-French border on the highway going straight to Paris! He would be going to Paris, but not until the next day after he took his required night's sleep. Driving in a truck was cool, but different. The cab is huge, so you have more space, but the trucks go muuuuuch slower than cars, and have to refill their gas tanks every two hours or so, which I experienced. But hey, a ride's a ride, and off into the night we drove!
Just over the French border at the first rest stop where I was dropped off, well dark by this point (11:00pm), I was completely awake and ready to keep pushing forth. After waiting just three minutes for someone to arrive, I got a hitch from the very first person I asked, a Belgian trucker delivering frozen chickens to....Paris! Tom was a friendly, stand-up guy who had a wealth of stories to share with me. Along the ride through the French night, he told me about the hooker he had given a ride from Italy to Belgium over three days (but refused to have sex with her), who had neither money nor any clothes besides the ones on her back. She had been abandoned there by her boyfriend, and was at a loss at what to do until Tom stopped for her and took her to where she wanted to go. Though the road to Paris was only another 300km or so, the ride ended up taking much longer than expected, since Tom had to take his required 30-minute break along with having to make a delivery before dropping me off. He was only getting 30km or so of the city itself, and the delivery ended up taking longer than anticipated, but it gave me a good opportunity to sleep somewhere warm for a while. It was particularly interesting chatting with him about delivering food (they were organic chickens, and I asked him about the differences in regulations for them, etc.), and experiencing (not really, but sort of) a delivery. He forced me to stay in the cab, saying that me leaving would be a breach of security, in case I was a journalist or someone taking pictures of the process. Which gave me a huge surge of optimism for the food industry...
Anyway, he dropped me off those 30km or so away from Paris around 3:30am. Unfortunately, he had to switch highways just before dropping me off, so I was on one leading around Paris, not into it. But it didn't phase me at all--I couldn't believe I had gotten that far, and was close enough to sleep till the sun came up and walk if I had to into the city. But I was hungry, having long before finished my packed lunch and snack. I was trying to see just how far I could go without spending money, and so didn't buy food along the way (except for a couple pretzels in Limburg....). But at this point I had to cave. At the same time, things started quickly going downhill. The dude inside the shop (which was open), didn't speak any English, and couldn't understand what I wanted to buy (I had to order through a window at that hour). He also was in disbelief that I was hitchhiking, which didn't help the situation. But Lady Luck has a way of showing her face just when you least expect her. As I was endlessly trying to explain to the shop keeper that I wanted some bread, some guy who had just filled his tank approached us, and was equally shocked I was hitchhiking. So shocked, in fact, that he simply couldn't let it be. I quote: "You're hitchhiking? WHAT?!? This cannot be. I take you to train." Not only that, but the shop keeper gave me a pastry--for free! It seems Lady Luck manifested herself in the form of extreme compassion and aid!
Dan, the French dude who gave me a lift, lived right down the highway, about 10km away, near one of the last train stations on the train going into Paris. We arrived at 4:00am, and he explained as best he could when the train arrived and where I needed to go in the station to get to the platform and buy a ticket (he didn't speak English). He still couldn't believe that I was hitchhiking at 4am even when he dropped me off, shook his head once more, and drove away. I was so close.
Alas, the train didn't start running until just past 5, so I bought my ticket, plopped myself on the station, and did the only thing I could have to pass the time and stay awake for an hour: I busted out my geetar and began playing. The time flew faster than expected, and before too long I was joining the locals on their commute into one of the biggest cities in Europe, and one of the cultural capitals of the world. If only they knew what I had done that day (though I'm sure they were confused a bit by my guitar playing).
I arrived to my CS host's just past 6am, who had generously left the key under the mailbox to let myself in. It took a little bit to fall asleep from all the excitement of reaching my 1,000km-away goal (which turned out to be more like 1,200) in less than 24 hours, and having the opportunity to spend a full day in Paris before meeting my mother. But once I was asleep, I slept for a solid four hours, before being awoken by my host, who had prepared breakfast for me. I had a wonderful day exploring the better part of Paris by foot, concluding it by cooking dinner for my host and his partner, who were some of the most generous and interesting people I've ever met through CS.
So that was that! I learned a lot about myself, other people, and the world in general through this trip. Most importantly, it seems perfectly clear to me now that the universe always works itself out, as long as you give it a chance to. We spend so much time worrying, hoping, and getting angry and frustrated when things don't turn out how we want them to that we forget how easy life is if we just let go and allow it to happen. I'm not saying that there's such a thing as 'fate' or that there's some sort of god or something running the show, but simply that there never is a need for us silly humans to worry. This was by far the best hitching experience I've had yet, and not nearly my last!
---------------------------
As an addendum: of course, before I left, I lied to my mother and told her I had booked a train to Paris to assuage her already immense anxiety of properly leaving the country, but then told her of my hitching adventure once I met up with her and the possibility of me not meeting her was nonexistent. She thought it was funny :).
As my hitchhiking prowess and experience has been increasing since I began in February, I've been also hitching increasingly farther distances. This past trip to Paris was by a long shot my farthest: just over 1,000km, compared to my second longest, Munich to Cologne (600km). Add to that the fact that I was to meet my mother at the Charles de Gaulle Airport outside of Paris two days after I began my journey, and things start to get interesting. For if I for some reason unable to meet my mother there....well, who knows what would have happened. But I may not be typing this right now...
Anyway, with such a long trip I had a lot of firsts. First hitch from a trucker, first hitch at night, first time getting stranded miles from a viable hitching spot, having then to walk for a couple hours before finding one. But enough lead-in. I'll just tell you what happened!
The journey began last Friday morning, bright and early at 8am, when I left William's apartment in Berlin to take the public transit to the hitching spot, the rest stop Michendorf well south of town. It takes a while to get there, since Berlin is a massive city by area, so it wasn't until 9:45 or so till I was there and looking for a hitch. That morning passed pretty uneventfully, cloudy and chilly, without many cars stopping to refill their tank or take a break from the Autobahn. I was feeling quite anxious about whether I'd make it the whole way to Paris, and whether I'd have to sleep randomly somewhere outside (not that I wasn't prepared both physically and mentally--I had my sleeping bag and was fully expecting the day to end that way), and so wasn't at all encouraged by the sparsity of drivers. Because of this, I was shier than usual, ruling out certain cars before I could know for certain that they wouldn't take me. You see, the type of people who usual pick up hitchers are men driving alone, so when I see a family or women, I tend not to ask out of common sense. But this day I was being overly cautious. After seeing one car pull up around 11:00am which appeared to be a couple with a teenage son, I immediately ruled them out. But then when the 'father' and 'son' got out, I decided to ask the 'son' just for fuck's sake. To my surprise, he seemed obliging, but wanted to defer the final decision to the 'father,' who, upon being asked once he joined our conversation, simply laughed. When he saw me standing there with my guitar and hiker's bag, he knew I was going to ask, and was waiting until I did! What was more, he was heading to Limburg, a small city between Frankfurt and Cologne---a good 500km away, about halfway to Paris in one go! So we shifted the luggage in his car, piled in, and headed for Limburg.
Not only was it an incredible feeling to get a ride from people I thought surely wouldn't be able to take me, but they were also an interesting bunch. The 'father' and 'son', who actually were old enough to fit their respective roles, turned out to be just friends, while the 'mother' was a thirty-something Vietnamese guy who didn't speak German (in my defense, he was lying down when the car pulled up, and I couldn't see his face!). They were all making a pilgrimage of sorts to see the 'Holy Mother'/'Lebendiger Gott '(living god), some self-proclaimed Indian prophet who had ended her world travels in Limburg, feeling that the energy in Germany was just perfect for the kind of spiritualism or whatever she was looking for. They deferred most of my questions about her and what they were doing to a book about her that they handed me, that just confused me even more. So I just shrugged my shoulders, pretended to understand, and had a lovely conversation with them about other random topics. Since I had only slept four hours the night before in my usual last-minute packing ritual, I soon nodded off with the other passengers, getting some much-needed zzzzs along the five-hour ride.
The Limbuger Dom, from a bridge over the Lahn |
After discussing with the driver about where would be best to drop me off, I opted for the city of Limburg itself instead of the previous rest stop, which was 60km before the city. I figured that because Limburg was small, and that I had stopped at a cool rest stop in Limburg before on a previous hitch, it would be better to walk the little bit to the stop and ride 60 more kilometers than stopping short at a hitching spot. Boy, was I never so wrong! It turns out that the rest stop I was thinking of either doesn't exist, or isn't by the city of Limburg at all. After scouting out where the A3 highway was, I headed in that direction, walking up some pretty serious hills until getting to a point where two highways intersected. I had come to a pretty serous obstacle--the rest stop I needed to be at was on the other side of both highways, diagonally across the intersection, and there weren't any sidewalks or smaller roads going over or under the highways, which meant no easy way to get there. As it turned out, I had to walk about 5km all told, getting lost and having to reorient myself several times. I called William to see what the quickest path would be, getting help from a dude who accurately guessed that I needed some who approached me as I was on the phone. Along the way after getting directions from him, I had to keep asking. It didn't help that half the locals I asked either didn't know where the rest stop was or didn't believe it existed, while the other half affirmed that it was there. After spending a solid two hours walking, I finally arrived at the rest stop, around 4:30pm. I've never been so grateful to see a gas station along a highway.
Over the A3. On the distance on the left (past another highway), is where I needed to go |
Feeling full of positive energy after getting through the treacherous maze I had just blindly ambled through, I wore a smile and began asking. This go round it only took half the time to find a ride (30 minutes), receiving one from a Belgian businessman who spoke nearly perfect English. He was going to the Belgian-Dutch border, but only as far as Aachen along the same way I needed to go. At this point, being 5pm, I was considering getting let out at Cologne and spending the night with one of the many friends I have there, finishing the 450km or so in the morning. I was pretty indecisive when Walter (my driver) had asked me where I wanted to get out, but then a wave of optimism and determination swept over me, and I told him I wanted to see how far I could hitch that day, and so went the last rest stop before Aachen, right near the Belgian border. Besides my curiosity for how far I could keep going and my will not to quit early, I had plans to stay with a rad couchsurfing host that night in Paris, coupled with the fact that I wanted to spend as much time in Paris as possible, so I pushed onward. Walter was a legit dude, holding one of the most interesting and lively conversations I've had so far while hitchhiking.
From this point onward, my optimism was through the roof, which was appropriately reflected with the more positive responses I was getting from drivers. At Aachen, it only took around 10 minutes to get a ride, and even from someone who didn't speak either English or German. He was a Hungarian trucker (who's Hungarian name I forget...started with an 's'...), who gave me my first ride in a semi! And he did speak a little German, but just not enough to hold a continuous conversation. We were able to communicate through the universal language of hand gestures, facial expressions, and random noises, and had a rad time together. He was a really nice dude, who usually picks us hitchhikers (even though his boss tells him not to). At first I thought I was only going to Liege, not even 100km from Aachen, but then he told me he was going all the way to the Belgian-French border on the highway going straight to Paris! He would be going to Paris, but not until the next day after he took his required night's sleep. Driving in a truck was cool, but different. The cab is huge, so you have more space, but the trucks go muuuuuch slower than cars, and have to refill their gas tanks every two hours or so, which I experienced. But hey, a ride's a ride, and off into the night we drove!
Just over the French border at the first rest stop where I was dropped off, well dark by this point (11:00pm), I was completely awake and ready to keep pushing forth. After waiting just three minutes for someone to arrive, I got a hitch from the very first person I asked, a Belgian trucker delivering frozen chickens to....Paris! Tom was a friendly, stand-up guy who had a wealth of stories to share with me. Along the ride through the French night, he told me about the hooker he had given a ride from Italy to Belgium over three days (but refused to have sex with her), who had neither money nor any clothes besides the ones on her back. She had been abandoned there by her boyfriend, and was at a loss at what to do until Tom stopped for her and took her to where she wanted to go. Though the road to Paris was only another 300km or so, the ride ended up taking much longer than expected, since Tom had to take his required 30-minute break along with having to make a delivery before dropping me off. He was only getting 30km or so of the city itself, and the delivery ended up taking longer than anticipated, but it gave me a good opportunity to sleep somewhere warm for a while. It was particularly interesting chatting with him about delivering food (they were organic chickens, and I asked him about the differences in regulations for them, etc.), and experiencing (not really, but sort of) a delivery. He forced me to stay in the cab, saying that me leaving would be a breach of security, in case I was a journalist or someone taking pictures of the process. Which gave me a huge surge of optimism for the food industry...
Anyway, he dropped me off those 30km or so away from Paris around 3:30am. Unfortunately, he had to switch highways just before dropping me off, so I was on one leading around Paris, not into it. But it didn't phase me at all--I couldn't believe I had gotten that far, and was close enough to sleep till the sun came up and walk if I had to into the city. But I was hungry, having long before finished my packed lunch and snack. I was trying to see just how far I could go without spending money, and so didn't buy food along the way (except for a couple pretzels in Limburg....). But at this point I had to cave. At the same time, things started quickly going downhill. The dude inside the shop (which was open), didn't speak any English, and couldn't understand what I wanted to buy (I had to order through a window at that hour). He also was in disbelief that I was hitchhiking, which didn't help the situation. But Lady Luck has a way of showing her face just when you least expect her. As I was endlessly trying to explain to the shop keeper that I wanted some bread, some guy who had just filled his tank approached us, and was equally shocked I was hitchhiking. So shocked, in fact, that he simply couldn't let it be. I quote: "You're hitchhiking? WHAT?!? This cannot be. I take you to train." Not only that, but the shop keeper gave me a pastry--for free! It seems Lady Luck manifested herself in the form of extreme compassion and aid!
Dan, the French dude who gave me a lift, lived right down the highway, about 10km away, near one of the last train stations on the train going into Paris. We arrived at 4:00am, and he explained as best he could when the train arrived and where I needed to go in the station to get to the platform and buy a ticket (he didn't speak English). He still couldn't believe that I was hitchhiking at 4am even when he dropped me off, shook his head once more, and drove away. I was so close.
Alas, the train didn't start running until just past 5, so I bought my ticket, plopped myself on the station, and did the only thing I could have to pass the time and stay awake for an hour: I busted out my geetar and began playing. The time flew faster than expected, and before too long I was joining the locals on their commute into one of the biggest cities in Europe, and one of the cultural capitals of the world. If only they knew what I had done that day (though I'm sure they were confused a bit by my guitar playing).
I arrived to my CS host's just past 6am, who had generously left the key under the mailbox to let myself in. It took a little bit to fall asleep from all the excitement of reaching my 1,000km-away goal (which turned out to be more like 1,200) in less than 24 hours, and having the opportunity to spend a full day in Paris before meeting my mother. But once I was asleep, I slept for a solid four hours, before being awoken by my host, who had prepared breakfast for me. I had a wonderful day exploring the better part of Paris by foot, concluding it by cooking dinner for my host and his partner, who were some of the most generous and interesting people I've ever met through CS.
So that was that! I learned a lot about myself, other people, and the world in general through this trip. Most importantly, it seems perfectly clear to me now that the universe always works itself out, as long as you give it a chance to. We spend so much time worrying, hoping, and getting angry and frustrated when things don't turn out how we want them to that we forget how easy life is if we just let go and allow it to happen. I'm not saying that there's such a thing as 'fate' or that there's some sort of god or something running the show, but simply that there never is a need for us silly humans to worry. This was by far the best hitching experience I've had yet, and not nearly my last!
---------------------------
Monday, March 26, 2012
Turning a New Leaf and Baking a Few Pies
Well, I guess it's that time to publicly reveal what has been an inevitable and long-coming process, a transition into what I've always wanted to do: cooking professionally. Yes boys and girls, this cat's jumping the philosophy boat and putting his profession where his passion is.
If this year in Germany has taught me anything, it is that (1) I cannot--at least not in this part of my life--properly conduct independent study in philosophy and that (2) I am much happier and interested in spending my time researching food, developing new cuisines, and cooking delicious food as my principal vocation. The vast majority of my free time over the past few years has been devoted almost exclusively to just that goal; there is never an idle moment in my life in which I'm not planning the next dinner party, thinking up what new dish to try, or baking some delicious pie or cake for a friend as a present. It only makes sense that I use those skills I've been honing since I was young in a professional setting.
This means a few things. First of all, it means I will definitely be returning to Pittsburgh in the fall after my grant is over here. Not only do I know and love Pittsburgh through and through, but I have the support of my loving friends and family to help me along as I embark on this new adventure. It is the perfect city in which to set up shop: the timing is right, the public is hungry for change, and the rents are low. Secondly, I will not be able to do this without the help of Wren, with whom I will be opening a cafe in the near future (at latest within a year) on account of our strong passion for food. I've had the most gustatorily wonderful collaborations with him over the past few years, and we are both in a perfect position to give this a shot. We've been developing plans since we first joked about doing this as a back-up plan pipe dream exactly one year ago, and want to ride the wave of momentum that's grown through our communications since then. Thirdly, I will become an entrepreneur, setting up a couple different businesses and looking for a few other sources of incomes and outlets for my home-cooked food, doing something vastly different than what I've been training to do over the past four years.
As far as what the businesses will be like, I have two in mind at the moment: the cafe, which is more long-term, and a pie delivery business, which is more short term. I will set up the pie business as soon as I return, using it to lead into the cafe, which will take more time to plan and realize. As I have told many of you, the principal philosophy behind the cafe will be: (1) to offer a weekly and seasonal menu featuring unique and experimental dishes spanning nearly every cuisine, food, and technique imaginable; (2) to encourage an interest and passion for good, healthy, locally-grown, and natural food through food education; (3) to promote a stronger sense of community through various events such as weekly cooking classes. Food is by and large the most vital part of our lives, the stuff that not only is a major factor in our personal health, but also that which holds together our community networks and social bonds. It's more than just an inconvenient daily requirement that has to be met through any means possible--it is who we are, just as crucial a part of our culture as things like language, music, and sports. Every social gathering is centered on food; every family convenes around the dinner table. Most restaurants are content to serve the same food day in and day out, on a menu similar to nearly every other restaurant within the same category, and do it without explaining where the food came from or how they cook it to their customers. In a world full of ultra-fast, chemically-altered, nutritionally-unsound food, we have forgotten what it means to eat well and live well through that. My goal is to help others rediscover the magic and wonder that is downright good, delicious, healthy food, and have fun doing it.
This decision of mine to become part of the food business, however, does not mean that I'm abandoning philosophy altogether. It's become one of my most treasured hobbies, and is among a group of a handful of activities that has most dramatically (and positively) influenced my life. I cannot begin to count the valuable advice, different perspectives, and profound knowledge I've gained through my study of philosophy. Indeed, I could not have arrived at my current life juncture without first having traveled down the windy, complex, wondrous path that is philosophy. Were it not for the nuggets of wisdom I've distilled from those dense philosophical tomes, I would not have the wherewithal and confidence necessary to start my own food business.
So that's that. A new chapter of my life begins, one involving much flour and butter, roasts and reductions. I've finally been able to allow myself to pursue that which I've wanted to do over and above all else since the young age of nine, and be totally certain that it's the right decision. Let the cookery begin!
If this year in Germany has taught me anything, it is that (1) I cannot--at least not in this part of my life--properly conduct independent study in philosophy and that (2) I am much happier and interested in spending my time researching food, developing new cuisines, and cooking delicious food as my principal vocation. The vast majority of my free time over the past few years has been devoted almost exclusively to just that goal; there is never an idle moment in my life in which I'm not planning the next dinner party, thinking up what new dish to try, or baking some delicious pie or cake for a friend as a present. It only makes sense that I use those skills I've been honing since I was young in a professional setting.
This means a few things. First of all, it means I will definitely be returning to Pittsburgh in the fall after my grant is over here. Not only do I know and love Pittsburgh through and through, but I have the support of my loving friends and family to help me along as I embark on this new adventure. It is the perfect city in which to set up shop: the timing is right, the public is hungry for change, and the rents are low. Secondly, I will not be able to do this without the help of Wren, with whom I will be opening a cafe in the near future (at latest within a year) on account of our strong passion for food. I've had the most gustatorily wonderful collaborations with him over the past few years, and we are both in a perfect position to give this a shot. We've been developing plans since we first joked about doing this as a back-up plan pipe dream exactly one year ago, and want to ride the wave of momentum that's grown through our communications since then. Thirdly, I will become an entrepreneur, setting up a couple different businesses and looking for a few other sources of incomes and outlets for my home-cooked food, doing something vastly different than what I've been training to do over the past four years.
As far as what the businesses will be like, I have two in mind at the moment: the cafe, which is more long-term, and a pie delivery business, which is more short term. I will set up the pie business as soon as I return, using it to lead into the cafe, which will take more time to plan and realize. As I have told many of you, the principal philosophy behind the cafe will be: (1) to offer a weekly and seasonal menu featuring unique and experimental dishes spanning nearly every cuisine, food, and technique imaginable; (2) to encourage an interest and passion for good, healthy, locally-grown, and natural food through food education; (3) to promote a stronger sense of community through various events such as weekly cooking classes. Food is by and large the most vital part of our lives, the stuff that not only is a major factor in our personal health, but also that which holds together our community networks and social bonds. It's more than just an inconvenient daily requirement that has to be met through any means possible--it is who we are, just as crucial a part of our culture as things like language, music, and sports. Every social gathering is centered on food; every family convenes around the dinner table. Most restaurants are content to serve the same food day in and day out, on a menu similar to nearly every other restaurant within the same category, and do it without explaining where the food came from or how they cook it to their customers. In a world full of ultra-fast, chemically-altered, nutritionally-unsound food, we have forgotten what it means to eat well and live well through that. My goal is to help others rediscover the magic and wonder that is downright good, delicious, healthy food, and have fun doing it.
This decision of mine to become part of the food business, however, does not mean that I'm abandoning philosophy altogether. It's become one of my most treasured hobbies, and is among a group of a handful of activities that has most dramatically (and positively) influenced my life. I cannot begin to count the valuable advice, different perspectives, and profound knowledge I've gained through my study of philosophy. Indeed, I could not have arrived at my current life juncture without first having traveled down the windy, complex, wondrous path that is philosophy. Were it not for the nuggets of wisdom I've distilled from those dense philosophical tomes, I would not have the wherewithal and confidence necessary to start my own food business.
So that's that. A new chapter of my life begins, one involving much flour and butter, roasts and reductions. I've finally been able to allow myself to pursue that which I've wanted to do over and above all else since the young age of nine, and be totally certain that it's the right decision. Let the cookery begin!
Friday, March 16, 2012
Busking Bonanza, Hitchhiking Hoopla, Munich Memories, and Random Updates
My, oh my. Much too much has been happening in my life as of late to keep up with on this here blog. My past month has been incredible--seriously one of the most productive of my life--and has had an extremely positive influence on my life. I've picked up a few new hobbies, gained a new-found confidence and sense of self-worth, and have generally been having the time of my life doing it. Though this post can't possibly do justice to just how great things have been going, I'll try to describe it the best I can.
So this whole busking adventure has taken on a life of its own. Partly through the pure fun we experience through doing it, and partly from Will's initiative in promoting us as a busking duo through social media, busking has been the activity which we've focused the majority of our energy on in the past couple weeks. During our busking shift last Friday, I experienced a couple of things I never thought I would. Firstly, we continue to connect with all sorts of people in an extremely positive way. For one reason or another, we had a lot of contact with the so-called 'vagrants' of the street: the homeless, drunks, and other 'unpalatable' people that an average middle-class person would avoid. However, they didn't aggravate, beg money from, or show any sort of hostility towards us in any way. While roaming around Alexanderplatz, we walked past a group of such people who only wanted one things from us: to play a song for them. When we stopped and paid them the little bit of attention they politely asked for, the response was simply electric--we haven't made people so happy through our busking besides then! Afterwards they shook our hands and let us go on our way, without any of the usual money-grubbing or disgruntlement that they show towards people who ignore them. Amazing.
Secondly, we performed for somewhere between 70 and 100 people at the Kottbusser Tor U-Bahn station for around 20 minutes before the security guards asked us to stop. The energy we created there was astounding - when the guards came to stop us, everyone gave them a resounding 'boooooooo,' and then cheered for us when we bowed. I think that qualifies as me completing my recent goal of wanted to perform on stage! What's more, five girls we had met two nights before at a bar showed up to listen and cheer us on. We told a lot of people that night about us, and weren't expecting many (if any) to show up, so that was rad. We got some video footage of the event, which we'll be soon editing and posting on our facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Funky-Anglo-Boys/281964835205989.
Thirdly, we had a glimpse of what it must of been like to be a Beatle: as we were standing on a relatively empty platform waiting for the next train and talking to the few people sitting there, we were about to play a calm, quiet song when a full train pulled up.When the doors opened, nearly 35 teenage girls stormed out, screaming wildly and swarming us. I changed tunes to "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" and tried my damnedest to keep singing during the wave of shock that hit me like a ton of bricks. For the entirety of the song, they were surrounding us, getting their pictures taken by their adult chaperons (it must've been a school trip or something), screaming all the while. And they left as quickly as they came, leaving those of us who had been on the platform before standing there in confusion and disbelief. So random, but so awesome.
Fourthly (and least importantly, though certainly great), was that we made over 110 Euro in around two hours of work! Not only was it incredible to have felt such a strong, highly-energized connection with so many people that night, but it was great to see people's generosity. We even managed to get three free beers and some melted chocolate during the tail end of the night. Most importantly, though, was just how happy both we and those we performed for were during and after our busking. One particular carriage full of drunk-off-their-rockers 50-somethings for whom we played "Take Me Home Country Roads" was memorable for the happiness and warmth exchanged there, as well as the countless people we talked to who were intrigued by what we were doing. We even gave one Euro to another busker with a much more professional set-up, who couldn't restrain his laughter when he saw who was paying him compliments. As I said before, this busking gig is becoming bigger than we ever expected: on Monday, we went out for a couple hours simply as a pick-me-up when Will was feeling a little down. Of course, afterwards we felt on top of the world! And we got invited to play at a kindergarten from a couple on the subway! Lovely randomness continues to ensue from our busking adventures. More stories from the busking front soon to come!
-----------------------------
In the hitchhiking department, I'm making huge strides in gaining confidence and experience through doing it more. Two days ago, I hitched back to Munich from Berlin in around an hour more than it would have taken had I caught the train (even though I got rides from four different drivers). I took a more proactive approach this time, going up to drivers at rest stops and asking if they had any interest in taking a hitchhiker instead of standing on the side of the road with a sign. Shortly after arriving to my first rest stop outside of Berlin, I ran into a young couple also hitching to the south (to Rosenheim, just an hour or so south of Munich). They had much more experience hitching than me, and it was great to observe and learn from them. They were suuuuper relaxed about the whole enterprise, and had absolutely no fear in confronting everybody who stopped at the rest stop. Of course, they were extremely courteous and humble (which you sort of have to be for anyone to take you), and just let things happen as they would. We ended up getting three rides together, and they even got the last one for me (since the guy was going to Munich, not Rosenheim). The whole day was quite full on, as we didn't wait for longer than three minutes at any given place after the first stop (at which we waited for about half an hour). In fact, between the second and third rides, I barely had enough time to pee and scarf down a sandwich! I had some awesome conversations along the way with my travel companions and those who picked us up. After that, I'm more than confident that hitchhiking is an easy, stress-free way to travel, and will continue pursuing it when I have the time to do so.
---------------
Otherwise, I've been hanging out in and around Munich with my friend Karen from Pittsburgh and Cathy, her friend since childhood. They're on a six-week European backpacking adventure, and will be spending a week with me, half of it here in Munich, the rest in Berlin. We've been taking advantage of the warm weather by frequenting various beer gardens, leisurely strolling through the great parks of Munich, taking a sobering trip to Dachau, succeeded by a much needed 'water-break' at Kloster Andechs for some delicious German beer and food. Tomorrow a couple of my Munich friends will be over for dinner to celebrate Karen and Cathy being here as well as my brief return to Munich before hitching it back to Berlin on Saturday. I'll spend another couple of weeks there to attend the Fulbright Berlin Conference, as well as hone my busking skills some more with Will, before shipping off to Paris to meet my mother for her first proper trip to Europe.
Well, that's all I have the patience and energy to write about for the moment (and more than enough than you probs want to read), so I'll end here. Though I will say there will be an important blog post coming soon, which deserves all the attention of a whole post to itself (which can't be given justice here and now). I'm still working out the finer details, but my life is going to change directions drastically within a few months. It will probably not come as a surprise to most of you, but it's something I've struggled to convince myself of doing for the longest time. But if I've learned anything so far during this year in Germany, it's been that I need to do this. Until the next post!
So this whole busking adventure has taken on a life of its own. Partly through the pure fun we experience through doing it, and partly from Will's initiative in promoting us as a busking duo through social media, busking has been the activity which we've focused the majority of our energy on in the past couple weeks. During our busking shift last Friday, I experienced a couple of things I never thought I would. Firstly, we continue to connect with all sorts of people in an extremely positive way. For one reason or another, we had a lot of contact with the so-called 'vagrants' of the street: the homeless, drunks, and other 'unpalatable' people that an average middle-class person would avoid. However, they didn't aggravate, beg money from, or show any sort of hostility towards us in any way. While roaming around Alexanderplatz, we walked past a group of such people who only wanted one things from us: to play a song for them. When we stopped and paid them the little bit of attention they politely asked for, the response was simply electric--we haven't made people so happy through our busking besides then! Afterwards they shook our hands and let us go on our way, without any of the usual money-grubbing or disgruntlement that they show towards people who ignore them. Amazing.
Secondly, we performed for somewhere between 70 and 100 people at the Kottbusser Tor U-Bahn station for around 20 minutes before the security guards asked us to stop. The energy we created there was astounding - when the guards came to stop us, everyone gave them a resounding 'boooooooo,' and then cheered for us when we bowed. I think that qualifies as me completing my recent goal of wanted to perform on stage! What's more, five girls we had met two nights before at a bar showed up to listen and cheer us on. We told a lot of people that night about us, and weren't expecting many (if any) to show up, so that was rad. We got some video footage of the event, which we'll be soon editing and posting on our facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Funky-Anglo-Boys/281964835205989.
Thirdly, we had a glimpse of what it must of been like to be a Beatle: as we were standing on a relatively empty platform waiting for the next train and talking to the few people sitting there, we were about to play a calm, quiet song when a full train pulled up.When the doors opened, nearly 35 teenage girls stormed out, screaming wildly and swarming us. I changed tunes to "Crazy Little Thing Called Love" and tried my damnedest to keep singing during the wave of shock that hit me like a ton of bricks. For the entirety of the song, they were surrounding us, getting their pictures taken by their adult chaperons (it must've been a school trip or something), screaming all the while. And they left as quickly as they came, leaving those of us who had been on the platform before standing there in confusion and disbelief. So random, but so awesome.
Fourthly (and least importantly, though certainly great), was that we made over 110 Euro in around two hours of work! Not only was it incredible to have felt such a strong, highly-energized connection with so many people that night, but it was great to see people's generosity. We even managed to get three free beers and some melted chocolate during the tail end of the night. Most importantly, though, was just how happy both we and those we performed for were during and after our busking. One particular carriage full of drunk-off-their-rockers 50-somethings for whom we played "Take Me Home Country Roads" was memorable for the happiness and warmth exchanged there, as well as the countless people we talked to who were intrigued by what we were doing. We even gave one Euro to another busker with a much more professional set-up, who couldn't restrain his laughter when he saw who was paying him compliments. As I said before, this busking gig is becoming bigger than we ever expected: on Monday, we went out for a couple hours simply as a pick-me-up when Will was feeling a little down. Of course, afterwards we felt on top of the world! And we got invited to play at a kindergarten from a couple on the subway! Lovely randomness continues to ensue from our busking adventures. More stories from the busking front soon to come!
-----------------------------
In the hitchhiking department, I'm making huge strides in gaining confidence and experience through doing it more. Two days ago, I hitched back to Munich from Berlin in around an hour more than it would have taken had I caught the train (even though I got rides from four different drivers). I took a more proactive approach this time, going up to drivers at rest stops and asking if they had any interest in taking a hitchhiker instead of standing on the side of the road with a sign. Shortly after arriving to my first rest stop outside of Berlin, I ran into a young couple also hitching to the south (to Rosenheim, just an hour or so south of Munich). They had much more experience hitching than me, and it was great to observe and learn from them. They were suuuuper relaxed about the whole enterprise, and had absolutely no fear in confronting everybody who stopped at the rest stop. Of course, they were extremely courteous and humble (which you sort of have to be for anyone to take you), and just let things happen as they would. We ended up getting three rides together, and they even got the last one for me (since the guy was going to Munich, not Rosenheim). The whole day was quite full on, as we didn't wait for longer than three minutes at any given place after the first stop (at which we waited for about half an hour). In fact, between the second and third rides, I barely had enough time to pee and scarf down a sandwich! I had some awesome conversations along the way with my travel companions and those who picked us up. After that, I'm more than confident that hitchhiking is an easy, stress-free way to travel, and will continue pursuing it when I have the time to do so.
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Otherwise, I've been hanging out in and around Munich with my friend Karen from Pittsburgh and Cathy, her friend since childhood. They're on a six-week European backpacking adventure, and will be spending a week with me, half of it here in Munich, the rest in Berlin. We've been taking advantage of the warm weather by frequenting various beer gardens, leisurely strolling through the great parks of Munich, taking a sobering trip to Dachau, succeeded by a much needed 'water-break' at Kloster Andechs for some delicious German beer and food. Tomorrow a couple of my Munich friends will be over for dinner to celebrate Karen and Cathy being here as well as my brief return to Munich before hitching it back to Berlin on Saturday. I'll spend another couple of weeks there to attend the Fulbright Berlin Conference, as well as hone my busking skills some more with Will, before shipping off to Paris to meet my mother for her first proper trip to Europe.
Well, that's all I have the patience and energy to write about for the moment (and more than enough than you probs want to read), so I'll end here. Though I will say there will be an important blog post coming soon, which deserves all the attention of a whole post to itself (which can't be given justice here and now). I'm still working out the finer details, but my life is going to change directions drastically within a few months. It will probably not come as a surprise to most of you, but it's something I've struggled to convince myself of doing for the longest time. But if I've learned anything so far during this year in Germany, it's been that I need to do this. Until the next post!
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