Sunday, August 31, 2014

Neptune's Grotto - 1308 stairs - So Hungry I ate a Horse

Sadly, our day started off with some unfortunate news - our planned catamaran trip on Monday was canceled due to a forecast of high winds.  The only option for rescheduling was going to be three days after we depart Stintino.



We were going to have to make the best of our situation, the vacation must go on - time to get some exercise and enjoy the view from Capo Caccia.  From here, we would have to conquer the 654 stairs to Neptune's Grotto (Grotta di Nettuno).

Breakfast
Street in Stintino
The stairs, it starts

Originally founded by local fishermen, the Grotto is a cave full of mineral stalactites located on the west coast of Sardinia.  The cave is used mainly for tourism and has daily tours given in Italian and English for 13 Euro - definitely worth the price of admission.  The only issue of having to start your day by going down 654 stairs is knowing that you have to end your visit with the ascent.  After mastering all the steps of Capo Caccia, we figured the rest of our day would be best spent relaxing on a beach.



While driving to one of the beaches, we stopped in a small town to grab a bite to eat at one of the two local bistros.  We had no choice but to order paninis because the pizza oven didn't go on until early evening - Julie had pollo and I arbitrarily picked cavallo.  Our energy was restored, now we just needed to find a beach where we could vegetate.

More mineral deposits
View half way up
View at the bottom

Conveniently, there were two beaches within a ten minute drive, we drove to both - the first didn't really appeal to us, but the second suited us better.  While parking, I had an inpatient, middle-aged Italian man shake his fist in anger as Fifi #2 struggled to turn around in the small parking lot.  Instead of this jackhole backing out allowing me to reverse, he slowly inched closer.  My guess, it was Guiseppe Slingtino - the jackhole that shot his Hawaiian sling in our general direction while swimming off the shore of La Pelosa.  The beach was great, but the water was far colder than the previous day (other side of Sardinia) and the surf was getting rough with the increasing heavy winds - no wonder our catamaran trip was going to be canceled.

View on drive to lunch from Capo Caccia

For dinner we found a great restaurant in Stintino that had good food and an excellent view of the harbor.  Conveniently, the restaurant had wireless internet, allowing us to use a phone to help translate anything that looked unfamiliar.  As Julie perused the menu, she mentioned, "don't get the cavallo, that is horse meat."  I replied, "Oh, that's what I had for lunch," I suppose after all those stairs I was so hungry that I did eat a horse.  Not wanting to double up on my horse portions for the day, I steered clear of anything containing Barbaro - ordering pescore frishe instead.  The fresh catch of the day was a sea bass (not Chilean, we are in Sardinia, there are other sea basses in the sea).  My meal came out and it contained the whole fish - not a problem, but it perplexed  me as to the best approach for eating.

Streets of Stntino
Street sunset in Stintino
Festival time

I am used to seeing food and going fork to food to mouth - now I had a fish head and scales in my way, not to mention - but really mention, the bones inside.  The fish was delicious with exception to the one bone I swallowed.  Julie had a delicious pizza and I was able to finish what she couldn't.  If only I could send pictures of my horse meat and fish meals to that snarling Dutch waitress in Amsterdam that castigated me like a xenophobe.

View from restaurant
fish heads, fish heads, eat them up, yum!!!*

We returned to our apartment and saw chairs being set-up in front of the stage, but were unsure what evenings festivities awaited.  While ending the evening on the balcony with a bottle of wine, I saw that the time was 22:30 and nothing had started.  However, a half hour later, the stage speaker sounded with a welcoming shriek of high-pitched feedback.

Dammit.  What awful music performance will tonight hold?   It's the last night, therefore; my assumption suggest the best act.  My fingers were crossed for Barnes and Barnes*, they would undoubtedly be better than anything to have graced the stage all weekend.  Please listen to their lyrical masterpiece, "Fish Heads."



Then, to my surprise, there was no concert - the entertainment for the evening was a fashion show and it finished at midnight.  With exception to some of the late night disturbances, we really enjoyed our time spent in Sardinia.  However, we were pleased to return to the land of quiet hours, Germany.  


NOTE: a beach-going day was left out because we returned to La Pelosa due to our catamaran trip being canceled.  Only one detail worth mentioning - possibly the worst Italian food served in Italy.  Julie ordered lasagna for lunch, presumable homemade or maybe store bought noodles and a house sauce.  Nope.  This is what she got.

Definitely not homemade


Saturday, August 30, 2014

Stintino - A Weekend Getaway

One of the many great advantages of living in Europe is the affordability of traveling to (almost) anywhere on the continent.  When researching discount airliner Ryan Air we found a deal we couldn't possibly refuse.  We immediately booked a flight to Alghero for a weekend trip on the island of Sardinia off the coast of Italy.  The city of Alghero appeared to be a well traveled resort town, therefore; we looked elsewhere for some peace, quiet, and a little adventure - finally settling on Stintino.

view of  La Pelosa

We landed around 21:30 and promptly picked up our rental car, a  Fiat, a.k.a. FiFi #2.  Stintino was an hour drive from the airport and the closer we got we could see a searchlight beaming across the sky.  The roving beacon appeared to have attracted everyone within 50 kilometers like insects to a bug zapper.  After arriving, the majority of the streets were blocked off for pedestrian traffic and we soon realized the street of our rental apartment was also barricaded.  Luckily, we found the only available spot in town, parking just five blocks away form our apartment.

As we carted our luggage to our rental, we heard loud noises with no particular cadence and didn't resemble what most people describe as music.  The band pounded on their instruments like a child does a toy, they seemed more intent on damaging tympanic membranes than staying in tune or synchronizing melodies.  Once we got up our third-floor apartment we could see the main stage of the festival was a short 200-meters away.  Knowing sleep wasn't an option with the cacophonous "band" playing we decided to walk the streets and see what the local vendors had to offer.  We returned to our apartment a quarter after midnight and there were no signs of the music or festivities drawing to a close.  Based on the thin walls of our establishment, the concert ended around 2:00, allowing for a short night's sleep.

View from our balcony
Street view from balcony


DAY ONE


Having had a disrupted night's sleep, a nice day of relaxing was what the vacation doctor ordered.  Sardinia is known for the famous beach, La Pelosa, and our rental was conveniently located 15-minutes away.  However, by the time of our early afternoon arrival, the masses had already descended upon the beach.  To avoid the large crowds gathered on the main beach we walked the coastline towards the Sarazene Tower.  Here, the beach was significantly smaller and less populated.  For an extravagant price, we could lounge on the private beach - private in the sense that a thin blue rope is the demarcation of exclusivity.  We decided to go with the more cost effective route and established a small area adjacent to the nobility of La Pelosa.

Our little area, beach royalty to Julie's left

The location was perfect, just enough beach for two people, rocks behind us, and the Mediterranean Sea in front of us.  Our area was mostly protected by the rocky landscape - allowing only the fleetest of foot sand-rat peddler to disturb anyone trying to enjoy their day.

Swimming over
Land Ho!!!
climbing

Unfortunately, a polite, "no grazie" wouldn't deter these peddlers.  Often, engaging in any form of communication, whether it be verbal or non-verbal, they would pester you - expressing total disinterest was equally ineffective.  For example, while reading a book, a peddler approached my towel, stood there with his merchandise and listed everything he was selling, "blanket, sunglasses, hats, real good price."  He continued talking and waited for a response, finally, I kindly said, "no grazie."  Instead of going on to the next group, the peddler started dropping the price of the previously undesired products.  The most interesting of the sand-rats were those offering "Thai massages," surely a massage would feel great covered in sand while basting in the 35 degree heat (95 degrees for our Fahrenheit readers).  To avoid further disturbances, we decided to snorkel and swim to the small island.

View from the North side
View from the East side

The water was a refreshing Goldilock's-temperature and shallow enough to equip our snorkel gear.  The sea between the beach and small island housed a coral reef with an abundance of fish.  Once we got to the island, we explored the shores - walked around the tower, took pictures, and I climbed the tower until my better half asked that I don't go any higher.  We gathered our gear and swam back to the beach.  While swimming, we noticed an aquatic fisherman hunting with a Hawaiian sling (essentially an underwater bow and arrow).  This was interesting to see until he decided it was a good idea to go after a fish a meter from us.  For our safety, we made our way back to the beach, but not before Giuseppe Slingtino schlepped his catch in front of our faces.  We collected our belongings and looked for a restaurant on our return to Stintino.



After a quick stop at our rental apartment, we turned around and went to Ristorante Capo Falcone, the only place allowing us to make a 19:30 reservation (most restaurants don't open until 20:00).  The food was adequate, sans the calamari - it tasted like a frozen Olive Garden meal (my assumption, I haven't been to an Olive Garden in 13-years).  Far less fresh than Giuseppe Slingtino's catch to say the least.  We made our way back to Stintino and prepared for another night of festival activities.  We sat on our balcony waiting for the music to begin, but nothing had started and it was 22:00.  Julie went to bed and I continued to enjoy my wine while listening to the fainted echos of Italian chatter and the waves crashing in the harbor.

View from dinner
Stintino

My tranquility was disrupted by the most pleasant sound of the festival.  A group of Italian men had stopped at the end of the street below our apartment to perform four acapella songs - of which I was able to record half - a perfect ending to my evening.  As I went to bed I overheard the opening song of the band taking the stage - a horrendous cover of Bob Marley's, "Redemption Song," certainly a performance with no redeeming qualities.

Song #1 recorded from balcony



Song # 2 from recorded from balcony



Saturday, August 9, 2014

48 hours in Amsterdam - What's Our End Game?

What European city would be best to host Jimfest?  Suitable for both a birthday and a final bender before fatherhood.

Hmmm...Amsterdam, here we come.

A prudent decision to celebrate an imprudent binge.  Our friends hoped a short flight from Norway and we stuck with the terrestrial convenience of driving.  Everyone arrived late Friday evening and due to our establishments being in opposite districts of the city - we called it a night and would rest up for the next day and a half.


Saturday morning we met up for brunch at Bakers and Roasters, a New Zealand owned establishment with delicious breakfast comfort foods.  Here, we were introduced to the remaining Jimfest attendees - adding to the Norwegian invasion, although; only one member of our horde was officially from Norge.  After brunch, we made our way to a street festival a few blocks away and continued to explore the city.  Note, walking around Amsterdam is dangerous, the bicycles are bipedal battering rams and have complete disregard for all foot and vehicular traffic.


For the afternoon, we planned to tour the House of Bols and learn about the history of Genever - a local liquor specialty, followed with appropriate indulgences.  Unfortunately, Julie hates gin (similar to Genever) and I was in the waning stages of my involuntarily imposed Salmonella diet - therefore, we couldn't stomach the event.  Instead, we walked around the area near the Rijksmuseum - relaxing at a local cafe before heading back to the House of Bols.

Park in front of Rijksmuseum

When we returned, the employees of the House of A-holes (Bols) treated us like we were street rats.  We asked if we could go into their bar to look for our friends who just completed their tour.  Of course we could, but for the price of a tour ticket.  No drifter access - even if you are just trying to reconnect with friends (or if you just want to get a drink at their bar).  Eventually, the employees high-browed us out of their establishment once they realized we weren't going to be making any purchases.  After being asked to leave the House of A-holes, we sat on a stoop and watched the line at the Van Gough museum slowly stagnate.  Twenty minutes had passed by the time we were able to reconnect with our group using Viber on the local wireless internet.  Our friends still had some drinks to finish and would be a little longer.

Canal and Westerkerk  
Admiring house boats

While we waited, Nature beckoned, but we had no where to go - so why not annoy the House of A-Holes employees.  To do so, we walked back in and were greeted with Dutch snarls - however, we disregarded their existence and walked to the bathrooms.  A rather classless gesture, but the ends justified the means.  Once our reconnaissance mission was complete and we still had some time to fill before going out to dinner - a perfect time to voyage the canals of Amsterdam.

One of many canals
Bikes:Amsterdam as A-Holes:House of Bols
Canal behind Rijksmuseum

Our friends were full of Genever and I was highly-caffeinated on coffee - what better way to exhaust our energy than paddle boat through the canals.  Before we boarded our vessels, a family just disembarked on theirs.  The parents seated in the back and three young children in the front - a cute, but incredibly ill-conceived decision.  They drifted their way into the middle of the canal, but weren't moving anywhere.  Then, a 40-foot tour boat maintained a collision course through the middle of the canal periodically blowing their horn.  The children feverishly pedaled, but the boat remained idle due to the dead weight in the back seats.  The boat sounded its horn a few more times as it approached and it appeared to have no intention of stopping.  As if it all happened in slow motion - the boat hit the family in the paddle boat head on, a most scaring experience for the screaming children.  A few minutes later the family was able to move their paddle boat to the far side of the canal.

Family being terrorized by large boat
And we're off
Commence beer hand-off
Maneuvering canal with ease
Let's keep going...you sure?
Another large boat

After our literal crash course on canal safety and priorities, we boarded our boat and were on our way.  We had no trouble maneuvering our man-powered water chariot - circumventing boats, other paddle boaters - even completing precise beer hand-offs of between boats.  We even took on a bridge underpass side by side - hand in hand, Thelma and Louise to the end.  We explored the canals for an hour before returning to paddling headquarters, where we would dock and return to land.  Strangely enough, while observing the struggles of newly disembarking paddlers, we saw two boats hit each other.  The two captains yelled at each other, but we didn't stick around for the conclusion. 

Westerkerk, burial site of Rembrandt
Maybe a better location for paddle boating families

The rest of the afternoon was spent exploring the city and canals from a safer distance.  We enjoyed dinner downtown where I got another Dutch jeer while ordering a meal.  Being that I was on the tail end of my Salmonella diet, I wasn't going to risk getting any meals other than plain rice or noodles.  When asking for the blandest of meals, the waitress did her best to treat me like a xenophobe afraid to try bread.  Our group would split up after dinner, the more lively half went to a concert while the boring married couples went to see Boom Chicago - an improv group based in Amsterdam the last twenty years.

The feature show we saw was called, "What's up with those Beards?"  a very entertaining production and the performers didn't have to pull any teeth to get the audience to participate.  We left the theater around 22:00 and the night was still young, the air was fresh and it was time to see the other half of Amsterdam.

We headed to the famous Red Light District, an area that needs no further description unless you were raised in a Puritan household.  No pictures are allowed in the district, but you would need to Purell your eyes after witnessing such depravity in action.  There were hordes of men lining the streets, mostly window shopping, but of course, there were customers out there.  We saw an elderly Asian man standing alone, stark naked for reasons unknown, but could be inferred.

Those wanting to conceal their shame employed a noticeable exit strategy - stare at the ground and quickly abscond into the crowd.  As time wore on, the quote of our weekend trip was coined when walking through the district longer than most married couples presumably visit.  Jim drunkenly quiped, "sooo, what's our end game here?"  A humorous way of putting how each of us probably felt at the time. We had overstayed our welcome and we all needed to undergo decontamination procedures after visiting. The next day we would stimulate our art and cultural sides with a visit to the Rijksmuseum.


Day Two

The next morning we met up in the Museum Square before heading into the Rijksmuseum.  The building is massive and is home to numerous exhibits.  The Rijksmuseum had a wonderful featured exhibit, "Art is Therapy,"

We walked through each room, reading the different exhibit exposes and also admired the more famous works.  We saw a Van Gough self-portrait, a four-meter long model of the William Rex , ending with the very impressive works of Rembrandt.  Everyone enjoyed our visit and each of us spoke of our collective fascination with "Art is Therapy."   We all seemed to be most impressed with the "therapy" of Rembrandt's The Jewish Bride - a perspective that may have easily been overlooked to our untrained interpretation of art.

Famous sign as seen from inside Rijksmuseum
The Jewish Bride
Blurry Art is Therapy interpretation of The Jewish Bride

More "Art is Therapy"

BAT Bantam fighter biplane, on the top floor of all places
Van Gough Self-Portrait, would probably cut both ears off if he heard the word, "selfie."
Large model of the William Rex

The Night Watch
Perspective on size of painting

Unfortunately, this was the end of the line for Julie and myself - Jimfest was a wild success, but we had a long drive home.  Julie and I wanted to stop in Belgium along the way for dinner and to purchase beer.  We found a small restaurant and grocery store off the main road where we had dinner and shopped at the store.  Lucky for us, the store was open until 18:00, leaving us 8 minutes and the store was still packed with customers.  We grabbed a shopping cart and loaded it up with beer - not sure how the public viewed this, but Belgians make the best beer in the world - it was a necessity.  The weekend went by too quick, but was an incredibly memorable one.  We will most definitely be returning to explore the other attractions and museums of Amsterdam.

End to a great weekend
Dinner and a beer run. 

We found the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant, Evergreen Terrace must be close by.