I had been to Neuschwanstein once before, in 2005. I went with my parents. Both of them. I do not recommend going anywhere with my parents. I love them both – I really and truly do. Without them, I would not exist, and I am such a huge fan of existing. But good heavens, there…
I’ve learned that certain things which may be considered totally acceptable in one country aren’t okay in another. That customs and cultures don’t necessarily translate. Even the things that we find to be horrifically offensive aren’t universal. Recently, I visited my family in Italy. I got to talking with my cousin, and she explained to…
The first time I saw this thing outside my dad’s house, I sort of snickered. – I remember staring at it, thinking, “Good heavens, that’s just awful. Whatever it is.” And then I pretty much ignored it, except to cast a sideways glance in its direction every time I passed. Now I realize, like nearly…
It’s a little distressful when your favorite restaurant in Munich topples from the pedestal on which you’ve placed it. It’s like when you encounter your first love again, years after the fact. You find that his voice is higher than you remember, or his eyes lack that trademark twinkle, and you start to wonder: did…
I’ve noticed a continual trend whenever I visit Europe, and it’s getting downright bizarre: t-shirts with non-sensical English words on them. I know that this isn’t new – there are entire blogs dedicated to this stuff, but usually it occurs in Asian countries that use a non-Roman alphabet, so the discrepancy sort of makes sense,…
I’ve been to Munich so many times that I’ve started to take the city for granted. I’ve somehow convinced myself that I’ve seen all there is to see in the city. This is patently untrue. – Entire districts of have completely escaped my notice. I’ve a list of museums I’ve yet to visit. Hell, there…
– Hi. Remember me? I know, I know. It’s been a while. Given how regularly I blog, I’ve been weirdly absent for the last few weeks. I’m sorry. It probably looks like I’m having an affair with another website, and I promise, that’s not it. Except for my flirtations with Zappos, I remain as committed…
Helloooo from … the east coast of the United States? Yeah, that sounds about right. It’s presently 6:40 am in Boston, is where I woke up this morning. Which means it’s afternoon in the country that we just left yesterday, and it’s not quite 4am at home. A brief equation: [3:40 am – (5 hours…
We are standing in a small courtyard in Munich, when I start acting like my mother, and my brother starts acting exactly like himself. Which, in this instance, means that he’s taken his son’s hand and is pretending to punch things. He even makes the appropriate “Pssht! Pssht!” punching noises. And then -god help me…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
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