Recently, Hubz and I heard tell of a fancy little trick that one of the airlines over here does called “Blind Booking” – or as we like to call it “Weekend Surprise”. This is a pretty neat trick where, basically, you pick your dates and a pre-arranged list of cities – and for 20 Euro each way the computer comes back and tells you where you will be flying for 40 Euro one weekend. The lists are organized by category: “Party Cities” or “Culture” or “Eastern Europe” – and there are about 6 cities per list. For an extra 5 Euro, you can eliminate one city from the list. So, when Berlin or Cologne are on the list, we’ll pony up to have them eliminated, since we can get there using our fancy train passes or, as in the case of Cologne, we were just there.
Recently, we had a four day weekend, courtesy of Dr. Martin Luther King, so we and our friends, Jack and Jane, decided to book a Weekend Surprise trip for the weekend. Our magic eight ball came up with Vienna – so off we went.
I didn’t know a whole lot about Vienna, although I had been there once before (It was one of those “Fly in and fly out for a business meeting kinds of trips – not a highly cultural experience!). I knew it was famous for its waltz, Sacher torte and opera. Other than that, I knew I was going to have to lean on the ole guide book pretty heavily. However, our friend Jane had been there before – AND her father had as well. Jane’s dad, it turns out, has an encyclopedic knowledge of all the places he has visited (seriously, including addresses and costs – it’s quite impressive). So, armed with guide books and Jane’s Pop’s email, we set out to explore the city with our dear friends.
Our trip included a mass at the palace chapel, with – no kidding – music by the Vienna Boys Choir. They were perched up in the highest choir loft and we could not see them during the Latin and German mass, but their height gave them a very angelic sound. After mass, they did come down to the front of the chapel to perform one song (which I attach below for your enjoyment). They were so dang cute that Jane and I seriously entertained the idea of taking one home (the littlest one with the larger ears, if you’re curious!). In the end, we refrained from kidnapping; deciding that, being in the House of God – at the King’s house, no less – shoplifting a choir boy probably wouldn’t get us an invitation to come back. We would have given him a good home though, for sure :) PS – we were told that we could take photos during the performance, but not the mass – see….I’m not COMPLETELY blasphemous!
Jane’s Dad’s email directed us to a cathedral that had recently undergone renovation of its ceiling frescoes. The church had left the scaffolding up after the renovation and allowed tourists to climb all the way up into the cupola to get thisclose to the newly freshened frescoes. As you can imagine, the cupola was HIGH up. I am not one to really fear heights, but as I climbed and climbed and the pipe and wood scaffolding would wiggle and sway a little more with each level I reached….I was admittedly a bit shaky once I got to the top. I stood there for a second, looked closely at a fresco, peeked out the window of the cupola and saw just how far above the skyline I was…on a scaffolding….with 10 other brave souls taxing its strength….and looked at Hubz and said, as casually as possible “I’m going to head down, I think” . (He of course saw right through me, to my knocking knees and yellow heart). And down I went! However, the frescoes on both the ascent and the descent were certainly lovely – and the opportunity to see them up close and newly refreshed was nothing short of once in a lifetime status! A very good recommendation from Mr. Jane!
Our wanderings took us to a few museums, a palace tour which included the crowned jewels, and royal carriage museums (very cool). We saw Klimt’s “The Kiss” up close and in the flesh – and even got to see a really neat painting renovation in process. The painting being renovated was seriously as big as my living room. They had taken the canvas from the wooden frame and laid it flat on the floor, surrounded by big lights and lots of plastic. The renovation artists, in street clothes, but special booties on their feet, laid on their stomachs on large foam blocks that absorbed their weight, as they touched up this mammoth painting. It was really neat to watch how that was done.
Of course, each day we were required to have coffee, like the locals, at a city café which featured Sacher Torte. I have learned that Europeans don’t value sugar in quite the manner that Americans do. Nor do they feel that moisture is a good attribute for a baked good, in many cases. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll marvel at the beauty of a French pastry for hours on end, and when I’m in the mood for a breakfast roll of some sort, a German bakery is my first choice….but cakes and pies?? Meh….I’m kinda more inclined toward Betty Crocker. So Sacher Torte, is a chocolate cake, covered in a thick chocolate grenache. It has all the makings of a chocoholic’s holy grail...but I was wary and passed it up for a pomegranate mascarpone tarte (turned out to be an excellent choice). Hubz however, embraced the local culture and subsequently was a little disappointed. However, fear not, my American friends, I happen to know that Costco sometimes features a Sacher Torte in their bakery that LOOKS just like the one in the Vienna Tourism ads, but has all of the chocolatey goodness that warrants a big glass of cold milk chaser. So, you can have the best of both worlds…and in the meantime, I’ll stick with my breakfast pastry and count myself among the lucky :)
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Thursday, January 6, 2011
SILVESTER, COLOGNE AND A TON OF EXPLOSIVES
NYE is a big deal around these parts. In German they call it “Silvester” (named after a saint of yore). For a loosely accurate history, I’ll offer this: Back in the day when Germanic tribes provided the logic and guidance for how the world works, the Winter Solstice was marked over a few days – in which the world was at its darkest. Believing that the sun was a big wheel of fire that rolled through the sky, there was a fear that perhaps the increasing hours of darkness meant that it may not roll back again, (This darkness part hasn’t changed, with sunrise at 830am and sunset at 430pm, you kind of understand their thinking) SO – the tradition was that in the days of darkness, one must chase out the evil spirits and entice the sun back. The former was done with smoke and noise, the latter with big fires. These traditions have evolved into a HECK of a lot of fireworks being shot off on New Year’s eve. It puts our 4th of July to shame.
Fireworks are illegal to purchase here – except for in the days leading up to Silvester – and in those days – you can get them EVERYWHERE. We saw some footage on the local news here which showed the lines of folks waiting to buy them at a warehouse. There were limits to what each individual could purchase – the “small box”, of which you could buy five, was about as big as a kitchen sink. The “large box” was as big as a coffee table, limit three per customer. People were carrying boxes back to their cars with HANDCARTS. Add freezing cold weather, the fact that you basically sit and drink until midnight, and the FAR less litigious society of Germany and the result looks something like this amateur video (shot on NYE this year from the center of downtown Stuttgart.) It’s long, you only need a few seconds to see what I mean!
It worked out that Hubz and I had planned to meet a friend and her family to explore Cologne on New Year’s Eve. They are stationed in Brussels, so Cologne is about a halfway point that allowed us to meet for a day trip. The plan was to spend the day exploring, have dinner and then part ways, with them heading back home (they have young kiddos) and us to spend the night in Cologne and return the next day (thank you Marriott points). Well, it worked out that they couldn’t make it, but with train tickets and sleeping room booked, we decided to venture forth just the two of us.
Cologne is famous for its cathedral – the biggest in Northern Europe – which holds as its relics, the remains of the three Magi (no kidding!). Rick Steves designates it as a “must see”, but also indicates that it’s a good city for a one day trip. We were spending a sum total of 24 hours there, so it seemed like a good fit. Along with the cathedral, Cologne has a fairly impressive collection of museums, among them is a chocolate museum….how can one go wrong? Here’s how – one can go on New Year’s Eve. A national holiday. A day when everything but churches and restaurants are closed.
We did spend an hour or so exploring the cathedral. It was impressive and beautiful and very, very cold inside (imagine the cost to heat that place!). We had lunch (excellent soup in excellent soup weather!) and sampled the local brew. We followed the points of interest that Rick Steves outlined in his book and noted each CLOSED museum along the route. We even pressed our noses up against the doors of the chocolate museum - no luck. What was left to do but find a pub and drink?!?
That’s exactly what we did! Hubz was thrilled to find an Irish pub that served his favorite ale (Kilkenny) and gleefully shared the experience with me. We chatted a bit with other tourists gathered there, discussed our highs and lows of 2010, and participated in some general merry making inside the warm (and smoky!) little pub. A few beers later, it was only 4 pm but we were ….um….at a good stopping point, and bereft of sites to experience – so back to the hotel we went, where room service and an in-room movie was just what the doctor ordered!
The midnight fireworks were impressive – both professional and amateur (there were far more of the latter than the former). We wondered about the form of the revelry back home in Stuttgart and shared a kiss for luck. I hope that each of you welcomed the new year with people that you love, as we did, and that 2011 brings you unimagined joy and happiness!
Fireworks are illegal to purchase here – except for in the days leading up to Silvester – and in those days – you can get them EVERYWHERE. We saw some footage on the local news here which showed the lines of folks waiting to buy them at a warehouse. There were limits to what each individual could purchase – the “small box”, of which you could buy five, was about as big as a kitchen sink. The “large box” was as big as a coffee table, limit three per customer. People were carrying boxes back to their cars with HANDCARTS. Add freezing cold weather, the fact that you basically sit and drink until midnight, and the FAR less litigious society of Germany and the result looks something like this amateur video (shot on NYE this year from the center of downtown Stuttgart.) It’s long, you only need a few seconds to see what I mean!
It worked out that Hubz and I had planned to meet a friend and her family to explore Cologne on New Year’s Eve. They are stationed in Brussels, so Cologne is about a halfway point that allowed us to meet for a day trip. The plan was to spend the day exploring, have dinner and then part ways, with them heading back home (they have young kiddos) and us to spend the night in Cologne and return the next day (thank you Marriott points). Well, it worked out that they couldn’t make it, but with train tickets and sleeping room booked, we decided to venture forth just the two of us.
Cologne is famous for its cathedral – the biggest in Northern Europe – which holds as its relics, the remains of the three Magi (no kidding!). Rick Steves designates it as a “must see”, but also indicates that it’s a good city for a one day trip. We were spending a sum total of 24 hours there, so it seemed like a good fit. Along with the cathedral, Cologne has a fairly impressive collection of museums, among them is a chocolate museum….how can one go wrong? Here’s how – one can go on New Year’s Eve. A national holiday. A day when everything but churches and restaurants are closed.
We did spend an hour or so exploring the cathedral. It was impressive and beautiful and very, very cold inside (imagine the cost to heat that place!). We had lunch (excellent soup in excellent soup weather!) and sampled the local brew. We followed the points of interest that Rick Steves outlined in his book and noted each CLOSED museum along the route. We even pressed our noses up against the doors of the chocolate museum - no luck. What was left to do but find a pub and drink?!?
That’s exactly what we did! Hubz was thrilled to find an Irish pub that served his favorite ale (Kilkenny) and gleefully shared the experience with me. We chatted a bit with other tourists gathered there, discussed our highs and lows of 2010, and participated in some general merry making inside the warm (and smoky!) little pub. A few beers later, it was only 4 pm but we were ….um….at a good stopping point, and bereft of sites to experience – so back to the hotel we went, where room service and an in-room movie was just what the doctor ordered!
The midnight fireworks were impressive – both professional and amateur (there were far more of the latter than the former). We wondered about the form of the revelry back home in Stuttgart and shared a kiss for luck. I hope that each of you welcomed the new year with people that you love, as we did, and that 2011 brings you unimagined joy and happiness!
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
50% OFF RAIL TRAVEL, AT A PRICE
Good Morning Readers! It is a balmy 17 degrees outside here (Fahrenheit) on a day on which I had planned to run some errands. I have decided instead to snuggle up with a cup of coffee and a laptop (both of which provide warmth) and spend a little time with you instead :) I’m not complaining, mind you. I actually get a HUGE kick out of the snow and the defined seasons around here. But I am a California girl by birth – so driving on potentially icy roads and navigating in these low temperatures are, I admit, a bit intimidating! PLUS – in California, weather was rarely (if ever) a good excuse for hunkering down and avoiding a To Do list outside of the house. I’m rather enjoying the new found excuse to be a homebody!
Another interesting discovery has hit my radar of late: Apparently, my husband has utterly fallen in love with public transportation. This is a completely new side of the man who could not be convinced to take an airport shuttle for the entire time that I have known him. Only time will tell if this is a personality aspect of German Hubz, or if it’s a quality that he will embody in perpetuity. I guess we will both just have to stay tuned for the answer to that one….
As a result of his new found passion, Hubz has been a great advocate of taking the train to our ultimate destinations as we make our adventures here. I am supportive, although less enthusiastic than he (I enjoy “regional shopping” and there are only so many purchases one can make with the idea of schlepping bags from station to train and from train through station to home….now that I think of it, this may be a major driver for his newfound passion…). At any rate, this desire to ride the rail has prompted us to purchase a discount pass for the German Rail System – and gives me an opportunity to tell you all about it!
DeutscheBahn is the country’s train system, which oversees regional trains as well as high speed trains that traverse through the country. So far, we have taken this train to the very southern end of the country to Garmisch (a ski area where Hubz had a work conference) and to Nuremberg (for a day trip to the Christmas Market) and most recently, to Cologne for our New Years Eve excursion (more on that later). The trains are comfortable and provide dining cars, large windows, bathrooms and even power connections for laptops and the like. By and large, we are very comfortable on them.
DeutscheBahn sells annual discount passes for train travel in three basic categories. Basically, each card allows you a perpetual discount of 25%, 50% or 100% off of your train ticket for a 12 month period. Hubz was very excited upon learning of this little tool when we arrived last summer. I, of course, was less enthusiastic. Would we really get our money’s worth? Would we even enjoy train travel? Would we be doing THAT much travel within Germany, when we have so many other neighboring countries to explore?
I assumed my role of “Killer of Hubz’s Dreams” and passed on the pass, as it were, suggesting that we hold off for awhile and investigate the situation a bit more. The cost is significant, so it was a good idea to make sure the passes would ultimately pay for themselves if we were going to buy them. However, following our trips to Garmisch and Nuremberg, we agreed that it was time to renew our research and move forward on the DB Card acquisition. Of course, this was an opportunity for me to grow as a person and gracefully endure the repeated accounting of how much money we would have saved on the previous trips had I seen the brilliance of the DB Pass plan months earlier. Ah, the glory of a lesson learned!
This is how I found myself running through a crowded train station one night, in frantic search of a photo booth. Not Kidding!! I jumped ahead a little bit for dramatic effect, so I’ll take you back a bit and fill in the middle part.
On the night we decided to get said DB passes, we met at the Hauptbahnhof (Haupt - "Main/High” bahnhof = "train station”). I came from home, armed with our passports, a VAT form and the credit card and met Hubz on his way home from work. After some triangulating via cell phone, we met at the DeutscheBahn office and took a number for service …which was 25 numbers behind the number currently being helped. We had done a little research online about the discount passes, using Google Translate to aide our plight (Sidebar: the DB website does have an English version – but since only German Residents can purchase the annual discount cards, the information page on this topic is excluded from the English website. DOH!). We had pretty much put together (meaning: guessed!) that the discount card we wanted to purchase was the 50% discount card – and we got the impression that a card for the spouse would be considerably cheaper when both cards are purchased in tandem.
The cards themselves are like ID cards, complete with photo. In some cases for cards like these, they will scan your passport and use that picture for your pass. As we took our number, I asked the young man at the information booth (who spoke excellent English) whether I needed a new photo for my pass, or if the passport would be sufficient (Hubz had photos at the ready). He assured me that the passport was fine (which is actually not a bad pic of me, so that made me happy). I’m sure that by now you know what direction this story will take.
We finally see our number come up, and we step up to the desk where an older woman is prepared to help us. From first appearance, she seems a bit surly and not at all happy to see us. But I have learned to reserve judgment….although in this case, no reservation was required! We greet her with a “Hallo” and she stared back. We asked her if she spoke English, and she stared back. We plopped down the brochure for the DBCard and our passports, which she took, and then she looked at me and said “Photo?” Ugh. I pointed to my passport photo and said: (with the international signal for question mark of raised eyebrows) “Dis Photo?” At which she (finally) smiled and triumphantly said “Nein”. Fabulous. Little Information Man had been WRONG. Too bad that 20 minute wait spent staring at a wall of German brochures hadn’t been put to better use in acquiring a photo.
So Hubz shoved me off in the direction of the door, and proceeded to get the ball rolling in getting our pass worked out. I sped out and once again encountered Little Information Man by the front door. “Where can I get the photos I need for my pass?” I asked him, hurriedly. “There is a booth by Track 16” he replied, smiling the warm smile of a person who has reached out and helped a troubled soul.
Now – I have read before that the definition of insanity is repeating a behavior in hopes of a different outcome. I understand this. I subscribe to this, in most cases. However, when you are in a foreign land, anyone who speaks the native language AND your native language naturally becomes a trusted resource of sorts. So, while in hindsight I can see that asking Little Info Man another question, after he had been so wrong just 30 minutes before, would seem a little foolhardy, I justify the action using the “English speaking equals trust” theory, with a “I was in a big dang hurry” chaser!
Of course, no photo booth was at track 16….or 15…or 14…or 13 for that matter. I DID find that little box next to track 12…after running for 10 minutes….through the crowd….in my winter coat and scarf. Resulting in the harried, rumpled and oily look one really craves when having their picture taken for a card they have to show people on a semi regular basis (see this post about getting my base ID, if you’re interested in the pattern I seem to be adapting here) .
The photo booth, by the by, has explicit instructions about what your ID photo must look like…..all in German. But – fear not – the instructions are conveyed via a 5 minute video presentation on the screen of the photo booth, before the “take my picture” button will activate. Of course, I didn’t realize that this was the case, until I had perched myself on the stool, tucked away errant wisps of hair, and practiced my smile for the camera. Had I known I’d have so much time to waste, I’d have saved the primping for the time spent watching the video (I’m a big fan of multi-tasking like that). Sooooo, I sit, primp, smile, hit the button, and then try not to scream in frustration at the time this video presentation is taking. (Images of my angry husband are running through my head. Thoughts of having to take a new number and start all over because I didn’t have pictures in time are making me cringe!). The videos instructs me NOT to smile, so I spend the last half of the preso practicing a non-smiling but pleasant expression for my picture.
FINALLY – the screen seems to indicate that it is photo op time! The screen brings up an outline of where my head should be positioned for my picture. Hmmm. I look down and see a button surrounded by arrow shaped buttons. Gotcha! Those must be camera positioning buttons. A little to the left and we’re golden! OR…….. as it turns out, the left button is actually a BACK button…..so we START THE PRESENTATION OVER AGAIN. Seriously? (counter to my new and hopeful logic, the right button does NOT frame the presentation forward any faster. I checked. I checked many times….with enthusiasm.)
Finally the encore presentation ended, and I was determined NOT to take any more time. I fixed my pleasant expression, hit the center button….and nothing… No flash. No change to the screen. Finally I noticed there was a little countdown happening at the bottom of the screen…..I noticed this at countdown number: “3”. When it clicked for me that it was counting down, we had reached countdown number: “1”. Needless to say, this is NOT a photo that I’ll be reaching for when asked to present photo ID in the future!
Long story short – I got the photos back to the DB office in time for our pass application process. Hubz had handled the arrangements beautifully. And as luck would have it, the surly counter lady had passed us off to a young and enthusiastic service person who spoke beautiful English. All was right with the world – and we are now equipped for a year of riding the rail and seeing the sites of our host nation. Even if I look like a bridge troll in my pass photo….sigh.
Another interesting discovery has hit my radar of late: Apparently, my husband has utterly fallen in love with public transportation. This is a completely new side of the man who could not be convinced to take an airport shuttle for the entire time that I have known him. Only time will tell if this is a personality aspect of German Hubz, or if it’s a quality that he will embody in perpetuity. I guess we will both just have to stay tuned for the answer to that one….
As a result of his new found passion, Hubz has been a great advocate of taking the train to our ultimate destinations as we make our adventures here. I am supportive, although less enthusiastic than he (I enjoy “regional shopping” and there are only so many purchases one can make with the idea of schlepping bags from station to train and from train through station to home….now that I think of it, this may be a major driver for his newfound passion…). At any rate, this desire to ride the rail has prompted us to purchase a discount pass for the German Rail System – and gives me an opportunity to tell you all about it!
DeutscheBahn is the country’s train system, which oversees regional trains as well as high speed trains that traverse through the country. So far, we have taken this train to the very southern end of the country to Garmisch (a ski area where Hubz had a work conference) and to Nuremberg (for a day trip to the Christmas Market) and most recently, to Cologne for our New Years Eve excursion (more on that later). The trains are comfortable and provide dining cars, large windows, bathrooms and even power connections for laptops and the like. By and large, we are very comfortable on them.
DeutscheBahn sells annual discount passes for train travel in three basic categories. Basically, each card allows you a perpetual discount of 25%, 50% or 100% off of your train ticket for a 12 month period. Hubz was very excited upon learning of this little tool when we arrived last summer. I, of course, was less enthusiastic. Would we really get our money’s worth? Would we even enjoy train travel? Would we be doing THAT much travel within Germany, when we have so many other neighboring countries to explore?
I assumed my role of “Killer of Hubz’s Dreams” and passed on the pass, as it were, suggesting that we hold off for awhile and investigate the situation a bit more. The cost is significant, so it was a good idea to make sure the passes would ultimately pay for themselves if we were going to buy them. However, following our trips to Garmisch and Nuremberg, we agreed that it was time to renew our research and move forward on the DB Card acquisition. Of course, this was an opportunity for me to grow as a person and gracefully endure the repeated accounting of how much money we would have saved on the previous trips had I seen the brilliance of the DB Pass plan months earlier. Ah, the glory of a lesson learned!
This is how I found myself running through a crowded train station one night, in frantic search of a photo booth. Not Kidding!! I jumped ahead a little bit for dramatic effect, so I’ll take you back a bit and fill in the middle part.
On the night we decided to get said DB passes, we met at the Hauptbahnhof (Haupt - "Main/High” bahnhof = "train station”). I came from home, armed with our passports, a VAT form and the credit card and met Hubz on his way home from work. After some triangulating via cell phone, we met at the DeutscheBahn office and took a number for service …which was 25 numbers behind the number currently being helped. We had done a little research online about the discount passes, using Google Translate to aide our plight (Sidebar: the DB website does have an English version – but since only German Residents can purchase the annual discount cards, the information page on this topic is excluded from the English website. DOH!). We had pretty much put together (meaning: guessed!) that the discount card we wanted to purchase was the 50% discount card – and we got the impression that a card for the spouse would be considerably cheaper when both cards are purchased in tandem.
The cards themselves are like ID cards, complete with photo. In some cases for cards like these, they will scan your passport and use that picture for your pass. As we took our number, I asked the young man at the information booth (who spoke excellent English) whether I needed a new photo for my pass, or if the passport would be sufficient (Hubz had photos at the ready). He assured me that the passport was fine (which is actually not a bad pic of me, so that made me happy). I’m sure that by now you know what direction this story will take.
We finally see our number come up, and we step up to the desk where an older woman is prepared to help us. From first appearance, she seems a bit surly and not at all happy to see us. But I have learned to reserve judgment….although in this case, no reservation was required! We greet her with a “Hallo” and she stared back. We asked her if she spoke English, and she stared back. We plopped down the brochure for the DBCard and our passports, which she took, and then she looked at me and said “Photo?” Ugh. I pointed to my passport photo and said: (with the international signal for question mark of raised eyebrows) “Dis Photo?” At which she (finally) smiled and triumphantly said “Nein”. Fabulous. Little Information Man had been WRONG. Too bad that 20 minute wait spent staring at a wall of German brochures hadn’t been put to better use in acquiring a photo.
So Hubz shoved me off in the direction of the door, and proceeded to get the ball rolling in getting our pass worked out. I sped out and once again encountered Little Information Man by the front door. “Where can I get the photos I need for my pass?” I asked him, hurriedly. “There is a booth by Track 16” he replied, smiling the warm smile of a person who has reached out and helped a troubled soul.
Now – I have read before that the definition of insanity is repeating a behavior in hopes of a different outcome. I understand this. I subscribe to this, in most cases. However, when you are in a foreign land, anyone who speaks the native language AND your native language naturally becomes a trusted resource of sorts. So, while in hindsight I can see that asking Little Info Man another question, after he had been so wrong just 30 minutes before, would seem a little foolhardy, I justify the action using the “English speaking equals trust” theory, with a “I was in a big dang hurry” chaser!
Of course, no photo booth was at track 16….or 15…or 14…or 13 for that matter. I DID find that little box next to track 12…after running for 10 minutes….through the crowd….in my winter coat and scarf. Resulting in the harried, rumpled and oily look one really craves when having their picture taken for a card they have to show people on a semi regular basis (see this post about getting my base ID, if you’re interested in the pattern I seem to be adapting here) .
The photo booth, by the by, has explicit instructions about what your ID photo must look like…..all in German. But – fear not – the instructions are conveyed via a 5 minute video presentation on the screen of the photo booth, before the “take my picture” button will activate. Of course, I didn’t realize that this was the case, until I had perched myself on the stool, tucked away errant wisps of hair, and practiced my smile for the camera. Had I known I’d have so much time to waste, I’d have saved the primping for the time spent watching the video (I’m a big fan of multi-tasking like that). Sooooo, I sit, primp, smile, hit the button, and then try not to scream in frustration at the time this video presentation is taking. (Images of my angry husband are running through my head. Thoughts of having to take a new number and start all over because I didn’t have pictures in time are making me cringe!). The videos instructs me NOT to smile, so I spend the last half of the preso practicing a non-smiling but pleasant expression for my picture.
FINALLY – the screen seems to indicate that it is photo op time! The screen brings up an outline of where my head should be positioned for my picture. Hmmm. I look down and see a button surrounded by arrow shaped buttons. Gotcha! Those must be camera positioning buttons. A little to the left and we’re golden! OR…….. as it turns out, the left button is actually a BACK button…..so we START THE PRESENTATION OVER AGAIN. Seriously? (counter to my new and hopeful logic, the right button does NOT frame the presentation forward any faster. I checked. I checked many times….with enthusiasm.)
Finally the encore presentation ended, and I was determined NOT to take any more time. I fixed my pleasant expression, hit the center button….and nothing… No flash. No change to the screen. Finally I noticed there was a little countdown happening at the bottom of the screen…..I noticed this at countdown number: “3”. When it clicked for me that it was counting down, we had reached countdown number: “1”. Needless to say, this is NOT a photo that I’ll be reaching for when asked to present photo ID in the future!
Long story short – I got the photos back to the DB office in time for our pass application process. Hubz had handled the arrangements beautifully. And as luck would have it, the surly counter lady had passed us off to a young and enthusiastic service person who spoke beautiful English. All was right with the world – and we are now equipped for a year of riding the rail and seeing the sites of our host nation. Even if I look like a bridge troll in my pass photo….sigh.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
DIVISION OF LABOR
One of the things that I have learned since I have become Somebody’s Wife (!?!?) is that there has to be a sort of division of labor on some of the household "jobs". For example, both Hubz and I felt that we were fairly adept at managing our finances when we came together. We were both organized and dedicated and interested in money management. When we started to merge our money, we realized that one of us had to step back and let the other be the “Team Captain” of the money department, while the other gave up the “execution” aspect and was instead only an equal voice in decision making. After much negotiation, it was decided that he would lead the charge – making him the Money Expert of our little family. (And I must give him quite a lot of credit for the fact that he consults me regularly before he executes anything, and we truly do talk through each money decision with a very even distribution of outcomes between his and my ideas).
The division of “expertise” in our family is somewhat traditional. I head up all matters of food, home upkeep and décor, socializing and family events/gifts. Hubz has the con on money, technology and handy work. But now we live in Germany – so our area of influence has opened a bit. I am now the Chief Officer in Charge of Menu Reading and Guessing What that German Thing Says. Hubz is the In House Counsel for German Public Transportation. He is also the President of Counting in German. (seriously, can't count past 12 over here, how lame am I???)
Second only to Finance Manager, Hubz’s favorite role around here is the Public Transportation Guru gig. He is passionate about it. He has even taken to giving me a rough time about taking the car to base when I run my errands (seriously? Slogging onto the bus and then a train with arm loads of groceries or dry cleaning or boxes we've received in the mail? No thanks!). I, on the other hand, who have travelled a fair amount, and navigated on my own with only a few stumbles in a lot of countries, have completely let that part of my brain atrophy. When I need to take a train someplace, I usually work it into conversation with Hubz and hope that he takes the bait. He is pretty reliable about advising me, in detail, about which ticket to buy, which connection to make, and on which side of the platform to wait. I’m sure I COULD figure it out by myself….just like he COULD make his own dinner – but hey, what kind of a fool would I be to forego the use of a resident expert!?
The division of “expertise” in our family is somewhat traditional. I head up all matters of food, home upkeep and décor, socializing and family events/gifts. Hubz has the con on money, technology and handy work. But now we live in Germany – so our area of influence has opened a bit. I am now the Chief Officer in Charge of Menu Reading and Guessing What that German Thing Says. Hubz is the In House Counsel for German Public Transportation. He is also the President of Counting in German. (seriously, can't count past 12 over here, how lame am I???)
Second only to Finance Manager, Hubz’s favorite role around here is the Public Transportation Guru gig. He is passionate about it. He has even taken to giving me a rough time about taking the car to base when I run my errands (seriously? Slogging onto the bus and then a train with arm loads of groceries or dry cleaning or boxes we've received in the mail? No thanks!). I, on the other hand, who have travelled a fair amount, and navigated on my own with only a few stumbles in a lot of countries, have completely let that part of my brain atrophy. When I need to take a train someplace, I usually work it into conversation with Hubz and hope that he takes the bait. He is pretty reliable about advising me, in detail, about which ticket to buy, which connection to make, and on which side of the platform to wait. I’m sure I COULD figure it out by myself….just like he COULD make his own dinner – but hey, what kind of a fool would I be to forego the use of a resident expert!?
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