Biking Gone Awry: Munich Edition

I snapped one last picture as the surfer darted through the river with finesse in Munich’s English Garden. Prior to my arrival, my mom, a frequent visitor, had sent me off with rave reviews of this talented group of surfers. So naturally, I had to stop and snap a few candids, despite the fact that my biking tour group was hastily peddling off without me. Although I could have stayed for hours, I hopped back on my bike and took a blind guess at a right turn out of the garden. When no bikers came into view, panic struck. I didn’t have a phone, I couldn’t speak German, and I didn’t know the name of my hostel. I started having flashbacks of getting lost in the mall at age four and crying my eyes out until my mom spotted me. I felt hopeless. I peddled aimlessly for twenty minutes, desperately hoping to find my way. Anxiously, I asked around if anyone had seen a brigade of young bikers, however no one had words of comfort. At last, an English speaker recognized the biking group and pointed the way. I sped off in the right direction, and after a few more directions from passerby’s I finally caught sight of a fellow biker. Although my heart was pounding out of my chest, I felt relieved to have found my way. Next time, I wander around a foreign city, I will certainly grab a map and bring a phone!

Enchanting Italy: a glimpse of Cinque Terre

Below: The perfect way to end the day, catch a ferry to feel the wind in your hair, before taking the train back home, where ever that may be..

Below: A colorful array of boats fill this small harbor, as energic swimmers frolic on the beach near by, taking a dip in the refreshing cool water. Below: Even the local animals understand the easy rhythm of Vernazza, catching a quick snooze on a store front in the hot afternoon sun.

Below: Daring visitors take a plunge from this high cliff jutting out of the cool aquamarine water near the Vernazza bay Below: Fresh Sea bass and vegetables are a delight at Ristorante Bar Belforte; the perfect place to enjoy the exquisite fresh fish, pesto, and local wine while soaking in the 360 view from the Restaurant's high perch.
Below: Enticing ally ways are kissed with light as a rainbow of laundry sways in the wind
Below: A view from above of the stunning natural bay of Vernazza
Below: Lush flowers flow over paths and ally ways leading into Vernazza, inviting visitors in
Below: The first view of Vernazza! Known to be the gem of Cinque Terre
Below: A stunning array of flowers line the hiking trail, offering striking views with the Mediterranean as the backdrop
Below: Lush Vineyards fill the hillsides of Cinque Terre
Below: Hiking the trail between Monterosso al Mare

Below: First View of Cinque Terre, the beach at Monterosso al Mare

A local taste

Perched on a stool in a small wine bar outside of the Pitti Palace in Firenze, I nibble at bread and olives as I gawk at the towering shelves of exquisite wine that rise high above my head. The walls curve on either side of me forming a tall arch that frame a large, colorful painting of a vineyard against the back wall of the small shop. Evening is just setting in, yet I still feel the heat radiating from the door as I wait to meet with the handsome 35 year-old Wine Bar owner, Manuele Giovanelli. I watch as he bustles around the shop attending to his many customers, in a constant smooth transition between English and Italian. As the last customer is served a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, he finally approaches me and nestles into the stool at my side.

Although I come prepared with a simple outline of structured questions, Manuele quickly opens up in an enthusiastic loose dialogue about his business, background, and customers. In little time, it is clear that Manuele holds a strong sense pride as the owner of this business. Despite the fact that he works demanding fourteen hour days, open to the public between the hours of noon and midnight, he states, “Energy is very important for a profitable business”, he says seriously, “It’s a job where I have to be very patient”, he admits with an exhausted smile. When asked about his favorite aspect of his line of work, he speaks with enthusiasm, “I love meeting people from around the world, and spreading joy and knowledge for wine, a fundamental aspect of the Italian culture.”

As we sit in the hot July air musing about various wines from across Italy that line his shelves, I fall deeper into the zest of this truly Italian experience. However don’t be intimidated by the shops authentic nature. Travelers from across the globe who happen to find themselves strolling in front of the Piazza Pitti are the most frequent customers of shop. As Manuele states, “Our customers are 80% Americans, often drawn in by the wine tastings which are offered throughout each day”.

Suddenly a group of three Irishmen pop their heads in through the tall glass door. With that, Manuele bids us goodbye with a kind hearted smile and hurries to seat his new customers. One thing is for certain; this is one American that will definitely be stopping by again in the near future.

To find Manuele’s Wine Bar, look for: Piazza Pitti, 16-50125 Firenze

At www.Pittigoalwinebar.com

Victory in Olympic Stadium

It was a balmy Saturday evening in Munich, and I found myself amongst thousands of enthusiastic Germans furiously waving their national flag in a rare show of National pride. Sitting on the field of the gigantic Olympic stadium, Germany was playing for third place in the World Cup, against the fierce Uruguay competition. An enormous television screen portrayed the non-stop, toe-curling action as fans fixed their gaze upon every motion of the soccer ball. Like a building wave, a Deutschland cheer grew in intensity, until even my fellow American travelers were belting it with pride. Suddenly, an unbelievable header shot the score up 3-2, Germany, sending the stadium into utter pandemonium. One guy, fabulously adorned in a red, yellow, and black mohawk, snagged a German flag off of his girl friend’s shoulders and promptly shot off into the crowd yelling “Deutschland! Deutschland!” as the elated fans cheered him on.

Walking out with my fellow travelers, we all gushed with enthusiasm over the game, the stadium, the crowd, and how memorable the experience had been. Little did we know, the excitement wasn’t over. In a dash, we squeezed onto the train that would return us back to the heart of the city. Next the me, the shirtless man resembling Fabio recounted the game in German with enthusiastic hand gestures, while I shamelessly looked on with enjoyment. Then from somewhere in the back of the train the “Ole! Ole, Ole, Ole!” cheer burst out and everyone joined in on the excitement. With a broad smile on my face, I knew this would be a moment that I would never forget.

Morning's Activities

A penetrating melody of high beeps startled me from a deep sleep in the hot Venice air. Even at seven in the morning, the all too familiar beads of sweat were taunting at my temples as I opened my eyes to the bright sunlight streaming in through my ever-so-petite hotel room’s window. First things first, an arctic shower was at the top of the day’s menu, a welcome morning jolt for the unavoidable skyrocketing temperatures: ladies and gentlemen it has officially reached 105 degrees with a healthy helping of humidity.

As I step into the stream of water from my shower, the cold sends a shiver down my spine, startling my senses and sending my mind reeling on the previous day’s events. Like any local Venetian, my day started and ended with copious amounts of walking. Walking along canals, through crowded allies, over bridges, and through famous squares brimming with sweaty tourists internally wishing the swimsuit optional beach rule applied to city streets, as they look enviously at the locals fully clad in pants hardly breaking a sweat. As an American, heat was first on my mind. However, once I embraced my sweaty stance, the grace and mystery of Venice revealed itself with each step, ever tempting me to continue on down the next narrow passage. Brilliantly colored flowers poured out of beautifully old and occasionally dilapidated windows, gondolas ready for eager passengers floated beneath arching bridges, passer-bys eagerly ate their chocolate gelato as it melted messily down their sticky arms, and stunning basilicas stood their ground tall a proud despite the famously sinking ground that the builders of Venice so curiously chose.

The bustle of Venice is unique from any other city I have frequented. Cars, taxis, even bicycles are absent. The only means of transportation are by boat or foot. However don’t be fooled, even in the seemingly lazy heat, tourists and locals alike stride with purpose, whether in search of the next breathtaking sight, or to fulfill a daily errand. This can be seen in rich context with a stroll through the open air fish market snuggly situated next to the vast produce market. Here, one can find anything from an octopus to a full body (and thankfully plucked) chicken. But be warned, this bustling marketplace full of curious smells and tantalizing colors is here for buyers. As young amused tourists look on at the array of sea creatures presented upon a cart of ice, asking questions in English about the type of fish and where it was caught, while their eager friends lean in to touch the swordfish head, a sharp comment from the vendor in Italian offers a curt reminder that this guy means business. Slightly agitated, he retakes his role adjusting his fish, and the startled teens hurry past.

Finally cooled, for what seems to be the first time in days, I am hurtled back to reality as I turn off the shower knob and step out of the shower, already feeling the blast of a new days heat. As I dry off, I think absently to myself what this new Vinetian day will have in store for me.

Just a taste of Venice..