The Eiffel Tower.

Getting to Paris, though, was more of an adventure than we bargained for.

We had already taken 2 overnight trains on our trip, so as we boarded our last overnight train in Rome, we figured we knew our way around.  Boy were we mistaken.  First of all, the train was disgusting!  I didn’t feel comfortable putting our bags on the floor, let alone slipping off my shoes.  On our German trains, we paid a bit extra to have a private bath, with toilet and shower, in our cabin.  Though we were still traveling first class on the Italian train, travelers had to share toilets as a car – one for men and two for women – which normally wouldn’t have been such a big deal.  BUT the smell was overwhelming.  One of the toilets didn’t have a seat cover, inviting the unsuspecting woman to fall in and get stuck. And there was no usable toilet paper (one toilet did have soggy paper).  Plus, the waste was dumped directly onto the tracks, which, to me, adds to the level of disgusting.  I have never wanted to be a man so badly in my life!

To make it worse, it was the first time I was embarrassed to be an American: our car was mostly filled with Americans, and they were so rude!!  The attendant didn’t speak much English, but instead of trying to work with him, many of the travelers kept fussing and yelling, irate that they “didn’t have a bed in their cabin!”  They did; however, it was mid-afternoon, and so the seats were still set up for travelers to sit and enjoy the sights.  Later the attendant came by to let down the beds.  Needless to say, the poor Italian man was not too keen on helping out anyone in the car after that.

Sadly, breakfast was a disappointment as well.  On the German trains, not only did we get a personal bottle of wine and a snack the night before, but we also had a lovely breakfast of cold meats and cheeses, fresh breads, yogurt, and coffee or tea.  On the Italian train, breakfast was a pre-packaged croissant and a juice box.

Is there hope at the end of this train?

We were also delayed at the Swiss boarder for three hours in the middle of the night, and so our train was very, very behind.  They had to break out the emergency rations just to keep the masses at bay.  So, yes, we received an additional free meal, but it was a pre-packaged box filled with a cold stew, something that claimed to be tabbouleh, crackers, cookies, and a water.  I was so hungry I ate it, but really it was quite…unpalatable.

Our main lesson: fly from Rome to Paris.

We arrived in Paris tired, dirty, hungry, and all around bedraggled, only to find that our train was so late that there weren’t enough taxis waiting to accommodate all of the travelers.  AND it was raining.  Soon, though, our luck turned, and Paris welcomed us with open arms – well, at least with a nice doorman and an open door.

The beginning of our wonderful Paris experience must be dedicated to our incredible hotel: the Park Hyatt Paris – Vendôme.  Now, first, let me say that I have stayed in a few nice hotels in my time, but I’m usually a person who chooses a hotel that is financially savvy and/or in an ideal location.  I don’t naturally search for opulence and luxury. The Park Hyatt Paris, however, is all about opulence and luxury.

Walking in and out at any time of the day, at least 5 different people will greet you.  The hotel is splashed with marble, mirrors, gold, and greenery.  Custom sculptures grace walls, light sconces, and door knobs.  We received a tour of our room, half of which was the bathroom suite, complete with a soaking tub and huge marble and glass shower with a small private sink and mirror in the shower.  At night, guests receive full turn-down service.  The nice lady even tucked our socks in our shoes, hung up my cardigan in the closet, and arranged our toiletries on a towel in the bathroom.

Our Park Hyatt Paris bed.

Our Park Hyatt Paris bathtub and shower. The bathroom suite continues to the left and right of this picture.

The sculptures that adorned walls, light sconces, and door knobs.

Plus, the hotel’s location is superb.  Not only are several designer stores housed in the surrounding blocks, but it is also a brief walk to Place Vendôme, the Tuileries, the Louvre, and the Palais Garnier. (Any Phantom of the Opera fans?)  For visitors who are willing to walk a bit father, you can view the obelisk at Place de la Concorde and shop till you drop on the Champs Élysées.  For those feeling extra froggy (like we were), you can walk all the way to the Arc de Triomphe.  If you’d prefer to venture to the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, or Montmontre and Sacre-Coeur, be sure to get directions from the concierge for the metro, for the different lines and trains can get very confusing for a tourist.

Place Vendome.

The Tuileries, looking toward the Arc de Triomphe.

Palais Garnier.

The Pyramid at the Louvre.

Notre Dame.

Sacre-Couer.

However, here’s the kicker: our hotel was free.  For those who are financially secure, have good credit, and aren’t planning on buying a house or car any time soon, one of the best ways to tour Europe on a budget is to acquire a few choice credit cards.  Kevin found a Hyatt credit card that granted cardholders two free nights in any Hyatt in the world, no blackout dates, after just one purchase. To be perfectly clear, we spent 2 nights in a 5-star luxury hotel in a room that ran about €1500 a night for FREE. Vive la Ville-Lumière!

Rome is busy, beautiful, overwhelming, and relaxing all at the same time.  We stayed at Casa Franci, a B&B in San Pietro outside the Vatican, and it was as though we had our own little corner of local paradise.  We had views outside our window of St. Peter’s Basilica, next door was a fabulous pasticceria where no one spoke English and a lot of pointing commenced, and around the corner we had an amazing anniversary dinner at I Quattro Mori. (One question: meat or fish?)

The view outside our B&B.

While there is no doubt that the Colosseum, Palantine Hill, the Pantheon, the Spanish Steps, and the Trevi Fountain (and all the other plazas dotted throughout the city) are all amazing, our best experience was the Scavi Tour at the Vatican.  Each day 200 guests are allowed to tour the archaeological site of the necropolis underneath the Vatican.  Visitors must submit a written request for an invitation, must be 15 years old or older, must wear modest clothes, are not allowed to take pictures, and must pay a fee. However, it is all worth it.

The entrance to the Scavi Tour.

The necropolis can make you a bit claustrophobic, and the air is a bit heavy and damp; however, you quickly get used to the conditions, and soon you are so overwhelmed by all the incredible sights that you forget any discomfort.  The necropolis is not a cemetery; it is truly a city for the dead.  On the tour, you view amazing structures built to house the remains of loved-ones and friends.  Your tour guide will explain the history of the necropolis and the Vatican and also explain the different philosophies behind a necropolis and a cemetery.  If you look closely, you can begin to pick out the different bricks, indicating the 2nd century walls, 4th century walls, and 20th century walls.

And if all that history and archaeology isn’t enough for you, you also get to see St. Peter’s relics and understand the history behind their discovery, the development of the tombs devoted to St. Peter, and the current preservation of the relics in the graffiti wall.

St. Peter's tomb from the Basilica.

As you leave (in silence), you are also able to view several grottoes and tombs.

In general, I recommend that you try to visit the Vatican on a Wednesday, for the Pope holds a General Audience on Wednesdays around 10:30.  We were, of course, rather far away from the actual event, but everything is projected on large screens.  Plus, after the address is the perfect time to tour St. Peter’s Basilica.  As you realize the address is ending, go ahead an join the line for the Basilica.  Yes, you may have to wait a bit (I think we stood around for 20 or 30 minutes), but it is totally worth it.  We walked through St. Peter’s Square the next day, and people were lined up along the entire perimeter – an hour’s wait at minimum.

The Pope's General Audience.

St. Peter's Basilica.

Neuschwanstein

For Americans, Neuschwanstein is probably best known as Walt Disney’s inspiration for Cinderella’s castle. (Ok, so maybe a lot of Americans don’t know that…) For Germans, Neuschwanstein is the still-unfinished castle of King Ludwig II, the “Mad King” as he is sometimes referred. Really, the history of this place is quite fascinating: Begun in 1868, Neuschwanstein was to be the refuge of Ludwig II, but he only spent about 100 days there during the castle’s twenty year construction. (During one of those days, a council, convening the in king’s own bedchamber, declared the king insane!)  Beautiful and opulent with truly breathtaking vistas around every corner, Neuschwanstein was Ludwig II’s homage to Richard Wagner, and several of the rooms open to the public exhibit the king’s love of Wagner’s operas, like the hallway outside the king’s chambers fashioned after a cave.  When the king died in 1886, the castle was still covered in scaffolding.  Workers completed the pieces of the castle that were already in progress but left the rest of the king’s plans undone.  A mere 7 weeks after the king’s death, Neuschwanstein was opened to the public and has been a tourist hot spot ever since.

Going to Neuschwanstein was my one main request of our trip.  The Wonderful World of Disney runs through my veins, and I wanted to live out my childhood fantasy of being in a real fairy-tale castle, not the theme park version of one.  (Yes, I used “real” and “fairy-tale” in the same sentence. Dreams really can come true, right?) Kevin wasn’t really sure about this German detour, but in the end he loved it. Really, you can get a lot of bang for your buck, for there is not just one but TWO castles that you can tour – the younger Neuschwanstein and the older Hohenschwangau – both just a short bus or carriage ride from the village of Hohenschwangau. For the more adventuresome who have a bit more time, you can also hike to both castles.

Hohenschwangau

Since the travel to and from Munich would have wasted most of our time, we decided to stay in the village at the Schlosshotel Lisl.  Through a most fortunate cancellation, we received the corner room on the second floor!  Out one window glowed Neuschwanstein, out the other Hohenschwangau!  Both castles from one room. I was as happy as a pig in the sunshine.

Beyond our initial stroke of luck, The Lady decided to leave us for a while: We had spent the previous night on our first overnight train.  (German trains are AWE-SOME!  Italian trains, not so much, but that is another story.) Neither of us had slept well, and we had 2 more connections before we arrived at the station in Fussen, from which we had to grab a bus to the village and then hike up a hill with our rather heavy packs.  Therefore, we spent some much needed time resting and refreshing in our hotel room.  But of course that put us getting out even later in our day.

Our leaving was mainly motivated by the gnawing hunger that consumed my every fiber. (It was mid-afternoon and we hadn’t eaten since 6:30 a.m.) But once again, we hit a snag.  Food service is notoriously slow in Europe.  Well, really they’re not completely to blame, for most Europeans actually slow down to enjoy the eating experience as opposed to us Americans who love to chow down and be out in 30 flat.  However, we received some especially horrid service at the cafe outside our hotel, which put us even further behind in our schedule.  We figured we had just enough of the day left to peruse both castles and call it a night.  Wrong again.  To tour the castles, you must pay for a guided tour, which is language specific.  Plus you had to allow time for the bus rides and subsequent walks to each of the castles.  We just didn’t have enough time to make both of the last English tours for the day!  And we knew we wouldn’t have much time before catching our train the next morning, so we were just able to see Neuschwanstein.  (I told Kevin it was a good excuse to come back.  Wink. Wink.)

But don’t let our mishaps dampen your desire to go see these incredible castles! (We just didn’t realize that a bit more fine-tuning was needed for our itinerary, but now you do!) Our afternoon at Neuschwanstein was unbelievable. Be sure to visit the Marienbrücke.  From this bridge you can see absolutely phenomenal views of the gorge below, the surrounding countryside, and of course, Neuschwanstein.  Sadly, I only lasted two minutes before my vertigo kicked in, and I had to quickly remove myself from the tourist-packed bridge.

A view of the bridge from the castle.

A waterfall under the bridge.

From there, Neuschwanstein was about a 15 minute walk down and along the mountain.  Be sure to allow plenty of time for the bridge and the walk, for you’ll want to stop every 10 feet to take pictures of the changing mountain and lake vistas.  And be sure to take advantage of the time you have to take pictures outside the castle before the tour begins, for the tour ends in a completely different spot in the castle.  The tour itself is great and kinda funny all at the same time: The rooms you get to tour are incredible – gold everywhere, ridiculously intricate hand-carved panels and furniture, floor-to-ceiling murals.  However, you only get to tour about a dozen or so rooms and hallways. (Remember, the castle wasn’t finished.)  Plus, you can’t take pictures inside the castle, so be sure to pay attention to details as much as you can or buy postcards.  Oh!  And know that there are TWO souvenir shops, and the tour leads you through both.  We bought our postcards at the first, but they were a bit cheaper at the second.

A view of the valley below the path to the castle.

The main gate into the castle.

One of the greatest things about our tour was the beautiful summer storm that rolled across the valley and into the mountains.  The thunder was so strong that it rattled the windows of the castle! And it was incredible to be eye-level with the cloud and rain wall.  Eventually the rain overtook the castle itself, but thankfully it was a quick storm and mostly abated by the time we needed to walk back to catch our bus.  Oh, and the bus ride is definitely worth the money for a bit of a thrill.  The road is one-lane with hairpin turns, and the drivers are so used to going up and down that they practically fly!  Depending on which side you sit on, sometimes all you can see is the forest-covered drop off, no road in sight!

The storm crossing the valley below.

As you’re leaving the village, don’t forget to carefully check the bus times back to the train station.  The buses don’t leave as often as you may think.  We ended up needing to hire a cab just to make our train on time!

Ok, so we weren’t in Austria, but the magnificent vistas of Switzerland are just as inspiring.

Train station for Pilatus at Alpnachstad.

We had one day in Lucerne, Switzerland.  My favorite adventure there, by far, was our time on Pilatus, a breathtaking mountain escape a short train ride from Lucerne.  We “climbed” the mountain via the steepest cogwheel railway in the world, which starts at Alpnachstad.  Being a bit afraid of heights and getting vertigo at the most inopportune times (the close cousin to my claustrophobia), I was slightly hesitant to take any transportation labeled “the steepest” anything, but I mustered all my perseverance and focused on taking in the sights.

Welcome!

See the steep railway?

Climbing Pilatus on the railway was like taking a nice stroll through the mountains: it was steady, slow, and filled with overwhelming vistas.  As we broke through the forest and neared the summit, we were especially impressed to realize that Pilatus is zigzagged with walking and biking trails.  As we neared the top on the train, others neared the top on foot or mountain bikes.  We even saw a group scaling one of the sheer cliffs above our heads.  Later, others who had ridden to the top, some with their pups, walked back down the mountainside.  Most impressive to me were the hang gliders cruising through the crisp mountain air.  Since hang gliding is on my Never List, I’m always in awe of those who do take the jump…off a steep, steep cliff.

Lake Lucerne, from the train.

Working our way to the top.

The railway, trails, and snow-capped mountains.

Hang glider along the cliff face with mountain ridge behind and walking trail below.

We enjoyed a fabulous lunch at Hotel Pilatus-Klum (built in 1890 and recently refurbished), watching other sightseers climb the two summits on either side of the hotel complex.  However, just as we started to climb up the many, many stairs to one of the summits, a huge cloud bank started to engulf the summit, forcing everyone down from the top.  (Secretly, it was ok, because we were both exhausted from the semi-sleepless night on the train and full from lunch.  Hiking wasn’t exactly high on our list.) So, instead we explored the visitor’s complex, which was under construction, and we stumbled upon the Dragon Path, a rock gallery carved out of the side of the mountain and full of dragon lore illustrated by Hans Enri.  It truly became a magical moment, for as we read the stories about the dragons on Pilatus, wisps of cloud began circling around us as the cloud bank crept into the open-air path. (Maybe protecting the dragons romping through the air?)

Reading the map while waiting for lunch.

Frolicking along the Dragon Path.

Stunning wildflowers alongside the Dragon Path with cloud wall in the background.

I think the Lord had an extra eye on me that day.  I had already agreed to go down the other side of the mountain, which first meant a trip on an aerial cableway, but since the mountain was covered in cloud, I was able to ride in relative peace, not being able to see just how high up we were (2132 meters above sea level, to be exact).

The cableway with the clouds rolling in. We should have been able to see an incredible view to the left.

At the first stop down the mountain, we ventured out to ride Switzerland’s longest summer toboggan run.  We were almost disappointed because at first it seemed as though we had to pay cash for our tickets (which we didn’t have).  Kevin was so crestfallen, for this was his treat:  Sad grey eyes.  Slight pout.  Trying to buck up and say, “Oh, well. It’s ok.”  But, as I find is often the case, a quick question to one of the employees revealed that we COULD use our credit card to pay for tickets.  Kevin = Kid In Candy Store.  The toboggan run is an excellent choice for kids of all ages! (I think we were the oldest riding that day.) Small children are able to ride with an adult, and you control the speed of your descent.  Plus, there is a lift that pulls you back up the hill, so you get to enjoy the valley reaching below you and the mountains towering above.  In fact, I think the lift was my favorite: We cruised through fields of wild flowers and herds of goats with bells dangling from their necks. (I love goats!)  In fact, one particular goat and I had quite an interesting conversation.  She was rather close, and so I extended a kindly, “Baaahh.”  She cocked her head to one side, eyes wide as saucers, and, bahahahaha-ed right back at me.  I truly squealed with delight!  She turned and eye-balled me until I was out of sight.  (Hopefully I didn’t offend. heh.)

For those looking for more adventure on Pilatus, there is also Central Switzerland’s largest rope park with all sorts of climbs, sky-walks, and zip lines, but needless to say, we passed it up.

In the gondola!

To get back down to Kriens, where we would pick up a bus back to Lucerne, we rode the panoramic gondola.  I felt a little more secure in the gondola since Kevin and I were the only ones in the car, and I could sit down.  I was actually able to gawk and enjoy the sites once I overcame my initial height jitters.  There were two different legs on the gondola ride: At the first stop, you could venture out to some small shops and cafés and a playground; however, we just hopped on the next gondola to reach the bottom, for we had many more things to see in Lucerne.  Thankfully, all modes of transportation were covered with one ticket (including the city bus), so we didn’t have to fuss with waiting in lines at each stop. In fact, we were able to ride the bus right to the Dying Lion of Lucerne, our next attraction, (no change of lines necessary) and avoid the walk from the train station.

The Dying Lion of Lucerne.

1. On a tight budget?  Some things are worth paying for! Kevin is 6’2″ and the thought of being cramped in economy class for 8+ hours almost made him physically sick. Plus, I get claustrophobic at the most inopportune times, and my memories of gasping for air the last time I flew to London in economy class several years ago quickly rose to the surface. So, Kevin upgraded our tickets to premium economy.  It was fabulous – more leg room, wider seats, and the other little extras of a trans-Atlantic flight were totally worth the money.  Plus, the airline was kind enough to upgrade us for free on the way back home!  We chose a 9:00 p.m. departure time, which allowed us to at least be tired enough to sleep a bit on the plane and helped with jet-lag since we arrived mid-morning. We really only had to suffer through the afternoon and evening for sightseeing. Also, we chose to take the Connect (the slower of the two available trains) to Paddington Station and then took a cab to our hotel. This method was much cheaper than the Express train service and cheaper than taking a cab from Heathrow to our hotel. (More info on Heathrow Transportation here.) However, don’t get too confused: You can buy Connect tickets from the Express kiosks, and you do actually ride the Express from Terminal 5 and then get off at the first stop for Terminals 1 and 3 (for free).  Then you’ll pick up the Connect and ride the rest of the way in to Paddington.
2. Never been there before?  Do your research. My super-fabulous husband did most, okay, ALL of the research for our trip.  He practically knew the train timetables by heart and found some incredible deals. However, he also researched the culture of the places we were going, for you may not realize how even the little things can be different in each country, like tipping at restaurants, hotels, and cabs. If nothing else, choose a good travel guide. We picked The Rough Guide to Europe on a Budget and learned a bunch. (See more details and purchase a copy here.) It not only provides a brief history of the countries and tips on attractions, transportation, restaurants, and lodgings, but also a cheat sheet for basic phrases and questions in the country’s language and a quick guide to the culture and etiquette. For instance, when going into any church in Italy, shoulders and knees must be covered or you will not be allowed to enter.  And trust me, they’re a stickler on this account; several young girls were pulled to the side at St. Peter’s and forced to devise provisional skirts out of jackets and pullovers to cover up the skin left bare by their mini-skirts, or they were simply sent away. The guards even checked your attire before you were allowed to enter the Vatican Museum.  Sing along with me now: “Head and shoulders. Knees and toes. Knees and toes.” Well, at least remember the shoulders and knees part.
3. Want to take your travel guide with you?  Don’t waste the space and weight. We didn’t come up with this tip on our own (Kevin found it online), but it was worth its weight in souvenirs: Don’t take the whole travel guide with you.  Take only the pages of the places you are actually going.  Cutting out the pages and making individual little booklets saves you so much trouble.  It was very convenient to stash the city’s pages in my purse and not worry about finding my place or wandering around like an obvious tourist with my nose in a huge travel guide.
4. Look for travel treasures before you go and while you’re there. For us, the most special moments of our trip were off-the-beaten-path experiences or completely unexpected opportunities.  Again, Kevin did most of the leg work for this, but we stepped into a couple of awesome experiences without planning it:
   • Think church! Check out Evensong at British cathedrals or any of the other religious services in the cities you are exploring.  We walked into Evensong at St. Paul’s without realizing exactly what was going on, and we ended up being able to sit in the quire!   A quick look at the church’s website or a glance at general church information inside the door will allow you to plan for this. Often services are at the same time across the city.  This is an excellent way to experience the buildings as they were intended.
   • Think free! The Ceremony of the Keys at the Tower of London and canal tours with the St. Nicholas Boat Club of Amsterdam are both free! So is the Pope’s weekly Wednesday General Audience.
   • Think super cool! One of the best things we did was the Scavi Tour at the Vatican.  There was a fee, and we had to write an email to request tickets in advance, but it was totally worth it to be able to tour the excavations under St. Peter’s Basilica and see Peter’s bones.
5. If you think, “Well, this shirt is light.  Why not?”, think again. I totally over-packed for our trip.  We were afraid that we would encounter a large variety of weather since we were traveling all over Europe, requiring coats and layers AND shorts and t-shirts.  If it was a typical early-June, that would have been the case; however, a lovely heatwave followed us for most of our trip. (Please note the sarcasm.)  I wore everything I packed at least once (except for one long-sleeved undershirt), but only because I was determined to wear it all since I packed it all. Really, I could have done with a lot less, and I wished daily that I had packed lighter so that I would have had more room for souvenirs and NEW clothes. So, ladies, my recommendations for packing: 1 or 2 pairs of khakis and/or linen pants, a couple pairs of capris, and 1 skirt that can pass for day or night wear. (No jeans.  Too hot, too constricting, too heavy for packing.) One all-weather, light-weight jacket. One cardigan and maybe 1 other light sweater with short or 3/4 length sleeves, a couple of tank tops, and a couple of short sleeved shirts, including something that could go with your skirt for evening wear. Delicates for about 5 or 6 days.  And plenty of socks. (I didn’t pack enough.) One or two versatile scarves for cold and hot days.  And very comfortable shoes. I took a pair of hiking boots, a black leather pair of flats, and a sporty pair of flats. (Yes, all of which I wore.  You may be able to survive with fewer.)  I was also very thankful for my wide-brimmed hat in the scorching Rome heat.  For the gents, Kevin recommends 1 all-weather, light-weight jacket; 4 pairs of khakis; 4 button-down shirts and 2 t-shirts; socks, underwear, and undershirts for 5 days; 1 pair of hiking boots and 1 pair of loafers suitable for walking and for dinner; 1 man’s scarf and 1 hat with at least a bill, if not a full brim.  He does not recommend any sort of sweater or pullover; instead utilize the long-sleeved shirts, scarf, and light jacket. Also, remember that when you’re planning, one set of clothes should be what you’re wearing for the first day of travel. So, essentially you should have the clothes you’re wearing, and about 4 other outfits.
6. Remember local laundry mats are your dear, dear friends! How, do you ask, could we have been gone for 17 days and pack only 5 or 6 days worth of clothes? By washing frequently.  Kevin found these in-the-sink laundry-soap sheets online that would have worked if we had had more time in one place.  However, hand-washed clothes take longer to dry than you think, and often we ended up with soggy socks and pants.  So, we quickly realized we needed to find the closest laundry mat.  If you don’t want to sacrifice your time, do your best to find a place that will wash and dry them for you. (Both of the places we found, one in Amsterdam and one in Rome, allowed us to leave instructions for our clothes and then pick them up later that evening.  And the language barrier wasn’t as bad as you may think.)  It’ll be some of the best spent money of your trip.
7. Some luxuries you may want to take with you. While we don’t recommend packing everything and the kitchen sink, we do recommend that you take at least 1 set of plastic cutlery with you.  Often we bought our meals at bakeries or grocery stores, and we were limited in our choices because we didn’t have quick access to cutlery.  Also, sometimes we had to come up with creative ways of cutting items so that we may share the culinary experience (and cut the cost of meals when we had over spent our budget the previous day).
8. Want to buy stuff? Plan where you’re going to put it! When we started, we were both surprised by how much room was actually left over in our backpacks.  As we continued our trip and started to collect purchases, we were equally surprised by how much our backpacks would actually hold. But we still needed something else for our bulkier and more fragile travel purchases, so I took a medium-sized duffel bag as my carry-on, which I was then able to empty and re-fill with our accumulating purchases.  Kevin wasn’t too thrilled about carrying it during our travel days since it ended up being rather heavy, but it was definitely a life saver.  Plus, we made sure that we were able to check 2 pieces of luggage each for free with our airline in case we decided to purchase another piece of luggage in Europe in which to take home our loot.
9. Want to use the loo?  Make sure you have some small change in Euros. Kevin had even our methods of acquiring and spending money planned for the whole trip; however, we forgot to have small change for when we entered the EU.  Mostly, you are charged to use public bathrooms, and so while ATMs are easy to find for big withdrawals, a few coins in your pocket can be a lifesaver.
10. All good things come to those who wait.  And wait. Train stations are mini-cities.  Big. Huge. And often not immediately logical.  So, be sure to allow plenty of time to get to and figure out how to navigate a train station you’ve never been in before.  To that end, if you have to activate Eurorail passes, allow at least 30 minutes (if not more) to make your connecting train.
11. Use the public transportation, but budget for a few taxis, too. While I’m a big proponent of walking so that you see more of the city you are in, I also love taking buses, metros, and trams in Europe.  They are always an experience (like the time my backpack and I got stuck in a metro door in Paris! Ouch.), and they are a cost-effective way to cross town quickly, especially if your chosen attractions are spread out over town.  However, European taxis are AWESOME!  And sometimes they are totally worth your money, especially if getting to your hotel is rather complicated or time-consuming by other methods.  We took two taxis in London, one in Germany, and one in Paris. It’s like the best carnival ride ever.  Also, if you happen to miss an important bus or metro (like we did in Schwangau, Germany), a taxi can save your travel itinerary.
12. If someone extends a hand to you outside a train station, metro stop, or storefront, recoil very quickly! No, these people don’t have cooties, but they are often trying to sell you something you DON’T necessarily want to buy.  If they can get their wares into your hand, even if you don’t want it, you are expected to pay for it.  And get used to refusing people stuffing things in your face.  A lady in London had a flower for some sort of fundraiser in my hand before I even knew what had happened.  Then she wanted a donation for the charity.  Dumbfounded, I had to tell her I didn’t have any money, and thankfully she took back the flower without a fuss, just a dirty look.  Another lady in Rome had a parakeet on a stick and offered for me to hold it. Kevin squawked, “NO!” before I had time to consider, for he knew that I would have ended up with a new pet parakeet and be expected to pay for it.  Hoards of gentlemen in Paris carried around cheap trinkets all over the grounds of the Eiffel Tower and would shake them in your face, often barring your way along the path.  Unless you know you want something or you know what you’re signing, the best idea is to just say, “No!” like 5th grade drug-education taught you.

It also helped that most of the Dutch speak English…

The door to our B&B on the right. Then up 4 flights of twisty, steep stairs.

We stayed in the Royal Dutch Blue B&B on Frans Halsstraat, and our hearts were warmed each night as we returned to our room to see the families and neighborhood come out to greet one another after a long day at work.

One of the best parts of our days in Amsterdam was the 22 km Mike’s Bikes Countryside Tour.  Yes, 22 km sounds like a lot, but you must remember that the biggest hill in Amsterdam is a bridge. And we stopped frequently for sights and history.  Our tour guide Petra, an Amsterdam native, was an absolute delight.

Petra's bike. GO ORANGE!

Bicycles are pretty much the main mode of transportation in Amsterdam.  In fact, you have to watch before you cross a street, for there is the sidewalk, the bike lane, and THEN the roadway, often with tram tracks in the center.  It’s easy to be DING!ed by a bike or the tram if you’re not paying attention to where you are going.

Riding a bike is no less stressful than walking when you’re not used to riding in a big city. This ain’t yo Tennessee-country-lane experience.  I quickly had to active my spidey sense to compensate for the sensory overload of masses of moving people and vehicles and look in the right places for the bicycle stop lights.  There were a few close calls with other bikers, cars, and pedestrians, but I made it without a scratch.

While everything was unbelievably interesting and beautiful, we had a few favorite highlights:  The cheese farm!  Ok, yes, I know that it’s a dairy farm, but we were going for one purpose – GOUDA! After an easy ride through the countryside along some canals, we arrived at a small dairy farm that welcomed several tourist groups. They explained not only how they made the cheese, but also how they made the classic Dutch wooden clogs.  Then we got to sample about 4 different types of gouda and peruse the gift shop for cheese, clogs, and other trinkets.

Shelves full of gouda.

And shelves full of clogs.

We also got to cruise along the Amstel River (yes, that’s right; think Amstel Light Beer, so called because they used to use the river water to make the beer). And see a windmill.  Really, there aren’t many windmills left because they burned a lot of them.  Yes, burned.  And not in some creepy effigy kind of way. The Dutch are very practical, and so when the windmills became obsolete, the quickest way to remove them was to burn them. Woo hoo!  Par-tay! But the government finally stopped them, and most windmills are either owned by the state for restoration or by private individuals.

Amstel River.

We are Windmill.

When you’re next in Amsterdam, be sure to go to Mike’s Bikes.  They also have a city tour, and you get cheap bike rentals throughout the rest of your trip.

Because we slept in a bit longer than intended, we decided to flip our schedule for our first full day in London, meaning we finally wandered to St. Paul’s Cathedral around 4:15.  Best thing ever.

St. Paul's from the Millennium Bridge

It turned out that we stepped right into preparations for Evensong, the daily evening service.  Those who were not there to worship were not allowed beyond a certain point and were missing the splendor of St. Paul’s dome, so when we were asked if we were there for the service, we said, “Yes!” without even having to consult each other.

Initially I was just thrilled to be sitting in the seats and to marvel at the splendid architecture that surrounded us without people stepping into my line of sight.  But then I noticed that some people were being escorted back into the quire.  Uh.  I want to go back there! I elbowed Kevin in frustration, and he just looked at me with his best honey-what-exactly-do-you-think-I-can-do-about-it glare. I watched in anticipation as the female clergy member went to the podium, and then silently cheered as she announced that anyone interested may line up to sit in the quire for the service. Elbowing Kevin again, we rushed the door like we were about to stand in line for U2 tickets.

Other than bits and pieces from history and English lessons, I know very little about the Anglican Church and their practices, so I was thankful that we had been given a program and a Psalm book. In fact, we (meaning all 30 or 40 of us in the quire) actually missed one of our cues to stand.  Oops! The service celebrated Mary and Elizabeth, but honestly I was really distracted by the fact that I was sitting on a wooden bench that was hundreds of years old, truly stained with history.  It was beautiful and overwhelming.  It also helped me understand why people built such incredible churches. I believe that God is always with me, but my romantic sensibilities felt heightened in that majestic place and I understood why people think that surely, if no where else, God must be within these marble walls and stained glass windows.

If you are at all religious, I highly recommend that you attend Evensong in one of the cathedrals.  Later, after meeting a group of ladies from…wait for it…Nashville, TN, we learned that Westminster also holds Evensong, which is also open to anyone wishing to worship, and I’m sure that there are many others as well.

Our other little gem of an experience was the Ceremony of the Keys at the Tower of London.  Suggested to us by my bro-in-law, the Ceremony of the Keys is an excellent adventure for anyone who wants a free, but exclusive experience, and/or who has already been to the Tower of London but would like to go back.

The first gate into the Tower of London.

The Ceremony of the Keys is a 700-year tradition in which the Tower is locked down each night by soldiers from Her Majesty’s army.  To attend, all you must do is write a letter requesting an invitation, and if space is available, you are generally accepted without issue.  However, only about 20 people are allowed each night, so you must write your request months in advance.

The small plaque hidden by the gate.

The tower gate we entered to attend the Ceremony of the Keys.

Simon, a rather entertaining Yeoman Warder (also known as a Beefeater), led us into the Tower and gave a bit of history of the Tower and an explanation of the Ceremony itself before it began.  I was excited to realize there was a bit of crowd participation: we were instructed as to cry out, “God save the Queen!” and basically told how to move around and stay out of the way.  After the Ceremony, Simon regaled us with some more stories and facts about the Tower. Really, the whole thing lasted maybe 30-45 minutes but was totally worth it. Sadly, no pictures were allowed.

Being married is all about give and take.  I guess sometimes I take more than I give, but one of the things Kevin and I really try to equally divide is the holidays between our families so that we actually get to spend quality time with at least one of our families, as opposed to the chicken-with-your-head-cut-off run around that plague so many young couples.  So, each year we spend Mother’s Day with one family and Father’s Day with the other family, switching families the following year.  

This year, we spent Father’s Day with The Brungers.  Thankfully, Jackson is very much like a father (no “in-law” necessary here) to me, so Kevin and I spent a wonderful lunch and afternoon with Jackson, Gena, and Erin.

But of course I was thinking about my dear old dad who was across town at my sister’s house with the rest of the Lanham Clan.  Father’s Day for the Lanham’s is more like an Homage to Dewight since he was the ONLY man in our lives for so long and is still the reining Daddy in Residence.

Since yesterday was Family Brunch, Kevin and I at least got to give Daddy his Father’s Day treat (a CD of Easter Vespers at Notre Dame).  Even better though were the stories exchanged at the breakfast table.  We had a packed house and all 13 of us circled the table, crossing conversations over, under, and through. Daddy ended up telling this great story about a botched Thanksgiving squirrel stew, but that story reminded me of the many a rabbit I ate as a kid. And so with a twinkle in his eye, Daddy told our friends Andrew and Kira about his paper-throwing days when the Kamikaze Rabbits would dart in front of his Chevette and sometimes they would make it…and sometimes they would not.  And when they would not, well, if they weren’t an immediate Peter-Cottontail-Pancake, they would usually end up on our dinner table.  Scoff if you like, but it was GOOD eats!  And after all, why waste a perfectly good rabbit, eh?

Tonight though, the story reminded me of all the other good times we had in that little blue Chevette: During the summer, Daddy would sometimes let me go with him to deliver papers. My elementary-school self thought that this was the coolest thing EV-ER.  Not only did I get to get up in the middle of the night, but I also got to hide in the floorboard of the car while Daddy went in the warehouse to get the papers, the sort of clandestine act an eight-year-old relishes in.  Then I got to whiz through the dark country lanes singing, laughing, and telling stories, stuffing papers in to bags and supplying them to my dad, watching in awe as in one fluid motion he would whip the bagged paper out the window, extend his arm into the dark night, and jettison the paper over the car in the second before we reached a driveway and hearing it thump and skid to a halt in the center of the asphalt. Paper throwing perfection.

Even better was when he would let ME throw the papers.  The thrill of the quickly approaching driveway.  The thin bag in my little paw.  The weight of the paper.  It may as well have been a boulder. I was not a naturally athletic or agile kid, so even the thought of throwing anything to reach a target quickened my pulse. My prowess didn’t nearly match my dad’s, but I usually was able to at least make it into the driveway.  We had to stop only a couple of times for me to fix my horrific aim.  Sometimes he would take pity on me and completely stop in car right in front of the designated driveway to help my aim and success.  If we had had all night, and all day, to throw the papers, I know he would have let me try every one; however, the sun was our enemy, and before long, the first rays broke through the darkness, forcing him to put the pedal to the metal.

I know now that those were the Lean Years, but as a kid, I had no clue.  All I knew was that I had a really cool dad who let me stay up late and go on adventures.

Thanks, Dad.

It began as a super-lean budget adventure to celebrate my graduation from grad school, flitting through cites, roughing it at hostels with the co-eds.  Kevin convinced me it was the only way we would make it over there.  I had to quickly accept the fact that I was going to trudge along with my backpack and quickly become comfortable with many people sleeping in close quarters.  ”Crae, you can do this,” I kept telling myself.  All I needed was a great view and my hubby by my side after all, right…?

So, we bought backpacks from REI (last season’s on sale!) and started planning for the sort of clothes that packed the most versatile punch.  And then things quickly changed.

My lovely husband started doing what he does best: searching for deals.  Before we knew it, we had 100,000 British Airways miles, 4 free nights at any Hyatt in the world, a free night at a Hilton, and other odds and ends cultivated from points and freebies.  Holla! Bye, bye drunk co-eds; hello Park Hyatt Paris! But I’m getting ahead of myself.  Let’s just say at this point that most of our accommodations for the trip jumped several stars, and we had more money to allocate to other things like first-class Eurorail tickets and overnight trains!

From beginning to end, the hubs planned everything. Hotels. Transportation. Attractions and events.  If there was a travel tip out there, he read it.  If there was a hotel review out there, he found it.  Cheap stuff. Free stuff.  Random stuff. My poor husband breathed, ate, and slept Europe for over a year–to the point where he didn’t have anything else to talk about! (“Honey, please, didn’t you do anything else at work today other than look at rail timetables?”)

But oh, my…was the wait and the work worth it!

I loved teaching high school when I first graduated from college, and I love teaching in general still, but I was made to teach college.  End scene.

More important than my gainful employment, though, is the way Kevin has encouraged, supported, and uplifted me throughout these past couple of years.  And I owe him a huge debt of gratitude that he has been willing to let me find my way.

I don’t know that I’ll ever consider myself a finished person.  I think some people get to a point where they pretty much have it together – they have established an identity, a career, and a worldview and very little will change from one year to the next.  I also think some people will continually drift on the tides, never mooring in one place for too long and often battening down the hatches for the next identity-storm.  I guess I’m somewhere in the middle, confident but wanting to be better.

I’ve always know this about myself, and Kevin has always known this, too.  In one of our first in-depth conversations, before we were even dating, I told him that I wanted to marry someone who would let me grow as a person and grow with me.  (Thankfully, he felt the same.)  Pretty bold statements for being “just friends.”  I guess the orange glow of the parking lot lights outside the Blue Coast Burrito just made us brutally honest.  However, I doubted either of us realized how much potential for growth there would be for me so early in our marriage.  For Kevin, he just had to figure out how to live with a woman.  For me, I had to wrap myself around being a wife and a grad student, then a wife and an unemployed graduate, then a wife and a high school teacher, then a housewife and part-time college teacher – all since the summer of 2008.  Again, a “yeesh” seems appropriate.

Today, though…  Today I have once again found an identity I can live with…I am proud of.  As an undergraduate, I never thought I would have been content as a housewife.  I admit that I scoffed at the girls who came to Lipscomb to earn their MRS. degree.  Oh, I was determined to be a stay-at-home mom when the time came, of course, but find pleasure in picking up the house, completing house-related projects, cooking for my husband, meeting family for lunch dates, running errands, hosting events for friends and family?  Ha!  Those were all chores that I would be forced to complete in addition to my highly distinguished position of High School English Teacher.  I was going to mold the putty of the young mind in my deft hand.  I was going to move educational mountains.  I was going to have hoards of students return to me and heap gratitude upon my feet.  Exaggeration aside, I never thought I would be a housewife so soon and love it.

Am I lazy?  No.  I am a caretaker.  Am I allowing my husband to pressure me into staying at home and be the “little woman”?  Definitely not.  I am a Christian feminist who chooses her own path.  And I am still a teacher.  I am blessed enough to be anchored in both worlds.  I still have a passion for teaching.  I have a passion for writing.  I have a passion for what can be accomplished in academia.  But I also have a passion for my home.  For my family. For my God.  And so I am quite content being a somewhat full-time housewife and kinda part-time professional.

My, how God directs us.