#visited germany's oldest city a week ago!

[daggersoliloquy]

trier, germany

[mariacallous]

ELBASAN, Albania — Isaac Herzog’s visit to Albania Thursday marked the first time an Israeli leader set foot in the only European country that ended World War II with more Jews than it started with.

Albania’s role in saving Jews during the Holocaust was a key theme of the Israeli president’s brief visit, which included a ceremony at the Holocaust memorial in Tirana as well as meetings with descendants of some of the 75 Muslims, Catholics and Orthodox Christians listed by Israel’s Yad Vashem as Righteous Gentiles — those who risked their lives to save Jews from deportation to Nazi death camps following Germany’s occupation of Albania in September 1943.

“Albanians hid Jews without regard to where they came from, or whether they were rich or poor,” Petrit Zorba, head of the Albanian-Israeli Friendship Association, told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency in Elbasan, a small city about one hour’s drive south of the capital Tirana.

Zorba estimated that up to 3,000 foreign Jews found refuge in Albania during World War II. “Only 100 meters from here lived the Kurmaku family, one of the families that protected Jewish people,” he said. “These houses have lately become tourist attractions visited by Israelis and others.”

Yet youths in this once-Marxist nation of 2.6 million know nearly nothing of that unique legacy, according to Florenca Stafa, director of the Albanian and Balkan Research Center at the University of Elbasan, Albania’s largest and oldest teaching college. 

“During communism, nobody spoke about the Holocaust. The topic was never taught in school,” said Stafa, 41, whose father was jailed for two years in the late 1960s simply for complaining there was no bread to eat. “Even after the regime collapsed, in the 1990s, it was still an unknown concept. So for me, as a professor, it’s important for us to do something about this.”

To that end, Stafa helped organize a conference for 25 teachers last week in Elbasan. The five-day event was co-sponsored by the Albanian History Teachers Association and The Olga Lengyel Institute, or TOLI, a New York-based nonprofit that promotes Holocaust education throughout the United States and Europe.

Oana Nestian-Sandu , TOLI’s international program director, said Albania is the 14th country outside the U.S. to host a TOLI seminar for teachers since 2012, and the only one among the 14 where antisemitism — rampant across much of Eastern Europe — has hardly been an issue.

“Because we are educators, we have to study what’s the best way to present this immense topic to our students,” she explained. “For them, it’s something that happened almost 100 years ago. But research has shown that through diaries, students can connect, and they become not only interested in it but committed to learning more — even in their free time — and be inspired by it.”

Albana Ndoja, 47, is a longtime history teacher and vice-director of the Kolë Idromeno High School in Shködra, a predominantly Catholic city. She first heard about the Shoah during a 2016 week-long group visit to Yad Vashem that was organized by Albania’s Ministry of Culture.

“We taught about World War II and the ancient world, but never about the Holocaust,” said Ndoja, a Muslim. She noted that in her hometown, the family of Agostin and Gysepina Çiftja sheltered a Jewish family for one year, even though their house was next to a Nazi garrison.

“The bishops of Shködra gave them Catholic identities, but they never tried to convert them. After a year, they got new passports and helped them go to Macedonia. Along with my students, I’m trying to gather all the histories of families in our city who did this,” she said, adding that “if we don’t learn from the past, we cannot learn how to protect ourselves in the future.”

Klodeta Cane, an Albanian Jew and Holocaust educator, said Adolf Hitler’s autobiography, “Mein Kampf,” has enjoyed strong sales in Albania of late. When she recently discovered a copy of the notoriously antisemitic book in the car of a municipal official in Vlora and asked him about it, the official responded: “We were just curious and wanted to read it.”

Cane added that Hitler exploited Germany’s economic devastation following the First World War to scapegoat Jews. She worries that sentiment could also shift in the Balkans, where “the radicalization of Islam is growing, and organizations are paying money to buy their souls” — that is, worshippers are offered cash incentives to attend mosques.

Gadi Luzzetto-Voghuera, director of Italy’s Fondazione Centro di Documentazione Ebraica Contemporanea, agrees with that assessment—especially after Oct. 7 and the dramatic rise in anti-Zionist and pro-Hamas sentiments throughout the West, and among intellectuals. 

Some of the speakers and participants cited frequent and harsh criticism of Israel’s war in Gaza in the Albanian media.

“Antisemitism is not an important issue for Albanian society, but it is important politically for the entire world, especially in Europe,” said Luzzetto-Voghuera, a speaker at the Elbasan event. “It’s being used as a political tool, even in countries like Albania where few Jews live.”

Elda Dermyshi, 54, has been teaching high-school history in Elbasan for 32 years. She said the Holocaust has recently become “a very sensitive issue” in Albania due to the conflict in Gaza.

“Everyone on TV is talking about this war and they connect it to the Holocaust and antisemitism. Back then, it was the Jews who were persecuted. Now the Jews themselves are accused of being the persecutors,” Dermyshi said, declining to discuss her own views. “What I understand from this conference is that we must treat the Holocaust as a multidimensional issue strongly related to human rights and cultural diversity, to refuse to accept stereotypes, and to practice tolerance.”

Today, the formerly Marxist dictatorship is home to perhaps 60 Jews—nearly all of them in Tirana—though its government is quite pro-Israel. Prime Minister Edi Rama, who met with Herzog during his visit, is currently overseeing the construction of two museums honoring Jewish history and Albania’s wartime rescue of Jews: one in Tirana, and the other in Vlora.

Alket Shehaj, 39, was one of the few male attendees at the TOLI conference. A middle-school history and geography teacher from the southern town of Fier, Shehaj acknowledged the rise of violent extremism in the Balkans but said education and a stable family life can counter that.

“Albanians have shown throughout history that we are a nation which embraces values and traditions, and we’ve always sought peaceful relations with our neighbors,” Shehaj said. “We have heard about the Holocaust since we were little. This is a subject we need to study in depth.”

Each teacher attending the TOLI conference received three books: “Flower of Vlora: Growing Up Jewish in Communist Albania,” an autobiography by retired Florida dentist Anna Kohen; an Albanian translation of “The Diary of Anne Frank” and “Izraelitët në Shqipëri” (“Jews in Albania”) by Josef Jakoel. 

Felicita Jakoel is the daughter of Josef Jakoel, the patriarch of what was then a 300-member Jewish community that emigrated en masse to Israel in 1991 after the fall of communism.

“My father was worried that because we were living in a closed country, it would be forgotten that a Jewish community once thrived here. He loved history, he was an economist, and he spoke many languages, so it was his moral duty to write the history of Jews in Albania,” she said.

Jakoel, who has lived in Israel since 1991, told teachers that the Jewish presence in Albania dates back 2,000 years — as evidenced by the ruins of an ancient synagogue in Saranda, along the country’s Adriatic coast near the Greek border. Jews also flourished in Berat and Elbasan, but enjoyed their strongest presence in Vlora, where a merchant class thrived until the Italian occupation in 1939. 

Yet the Albanian people’s determination to hide Jews from the Nazis at enormous personal risk paid off. By the war’s end, the Nazis had killed only one Albanian family out of a native Jewish population of 300 and perhaps thousands of refugees from neighboring countries. In contrast, of the 2,000 or so prewar Jews who lived on the Greek island of Corfu—just off Albania’s coast—only 187 survived. The rest were all deported to Auschwitz.

‘What happened here in Albania didn’t happen in any other country in Europe,” said Jakoel, 67. “In Denmark, Danish Jews were saved. But in Albania, so were Jews who came from other countries. This is a very important topic to be integrated in schools. We should teach new generations about what we did during the Holocaust.”

TOLI’s Nestian-Sandu said she hopes to make the seminar an annual event in this country, and next year to include Albanian-speaking teachers from neighboring Kosovo as well.

“It’s not enough just to tell the story of these wonderful people who saved so many Jews,” she said. “It’s equally important to inspire students to be active citizens and help those around them.”

[europeincomingei]

Austrian and Bavarian Christmas markets

Austria, where the most well-known carol of the holiday season, "Silent Night," was first played more than 200 years ago, is awash in the joyful swirl of warm hearted Christmas sights, sounds, and fragrances. Austrians refer to the Advent season as "the most tranquil time of the year." The weeks leading up to Christmas are a time for reviving ancient traditions, such as baking cookies, hanging Christmas ornaments, and singing carols with family members. The Salzburg City Centre Christmas Market, one of the oldest in all of Austria, stretches all the way back to the fifteenth century.  The famous "Vienna Magic of Advent," which transforms City Hall Square into a glittering fantasy world, is one of the most well-known Austrian Christmas markets. Being a premier destination management organization in Europe, we are specialists in designing events and itineraries that are especially tailored to the needs of the tourists we serve. We're passionate about developing packages that enable a wide spectrum of travellers to discover Europe's rich depth of culture and tradition, attend exciting events, and witness beautiful scenery and iconic places. From leisure groups and students to FIT, corporate MICE, and destination events.

Europe's best Christmas markets are found in Germany, and Bavaria is proud to host the most enchanted and lavish local festivities. During the holiday season, it's impossible to avoid visiting Munich, Nuremberg, Rothenburg, Regensburg, and hundreds of other tiny Alpine villages. The best Christmas market in all of Bavaria is located in Munich. Nürnberg's Christkindlesmarkt in Hauptmarkt square hosts over 2 million tourists each year and is praised for its exquisite mediaeval beauty. Another popular option for Bavarian Christmas markets is the historic city of Regensburg. We are a group of European travel and events experts who collaborate with agents, event organizers, and their clients from around the world to provide our in-depth knowledge of destinations and planning skills. Whether it's lodging, transportation and ground transfers, escorted tours, event locations, special event support, or entertainment, we offer agents and event planners seamless solutions for their clients from planning to departure. We are quite knowledgeable about the UK and every other European country. We may create single city or multi-city itineraries to assist your clients get the most out of their trip. We have an advantage that can assist your customers with their travel arrangements thanks to our affiliation with hotels, transportation providers, escorted excursions, and local guides.

[kosmosian-quills]

OC Kiss Week - Stars

My contribution to the prompt “Stars”, hosted by @ockissweek!

I hope you enjoy!

POV: Matylda

The capital city has been my home for the last two years, and a lot has changed in my private life since then.

I've got new friends here, I've finished my general education studies here, I've been given opportunities here that I would never have dreamed of two years ago.

But it's an undeniable fact that reuniting with one of my oldest friends is one of the best things that has happened to me recently. Tomasz was back home from his studies abroad after so long, and had decided to stay in the capital for a few days to see me.

And that's how I'm here, in a packed theatre, watching a sold-out production with him.

It really does feel like home here. It reminds me of Obokplaży - of the theatre my parents ran. Being able to watch the shows, sometimes from the wings, sometimes from the upper circle. Watching the characters and dancers, the singers and the narrators, it's so familiar.

And with Tomasz beside me, it feels warmer than ever.

But all too soon, the curtains were drawn and the performers gave their bows through our applause.

I didn't want to part ways with him yet, though, and so we decided on one last trip to the promenade by the coast.

The streets were mostly empty, save for a few other patrons of the theatre we just came from, who were also making their way in our direction, probably for a similar reason to us.

The streets were warmly lit against the darkness of the obsidian coloured sky that was littered with diamonds. The closer we got to the sea, every corner we turned, the taste of the salt in the breeze became more pronounced. It was a chilly night for this March night, but it was something we were all used to, and I didn't mind. My long beige coat did the job at keeping the breeze from totally freezing me.

The promenade is where the view becomes spectacular. The high tide made the boats moored in the harbour bob up and down in the waves, the stars and the crescent moon reflecting on the glistening surface of the sea. The infinity of the sea was calming, truly, and the view of the castle just to the south-east, slightly out to sea was the perfect backdrop to the entire view. The lights on the walls and in the windows, it looked like something out of a picture book from here. I wonder, I could take a photo of this and paint a picture of it later. This is so beautiful...

Tomasz beside me inhales deeply as we lean against the metal guardrail. "Oh, I missed this, Słoneczka," he says finally, "I love the city I live in, but this? The salty sea breeze? This is where it's at. And you live here, full time."

I can't help but laugh, "one of the perks of my job, Tomek."

"I'm very jealous," he replies, turning around and leaning back on the railing instead, "have you enjoyed your night with me then?"

I turn around in my place to join him in the same position, looking back at the strip of lights that illuminate the promenade. The restaurants, bars, and handful of shops that have remained open at this time of night are still serving patrons who are out having drinks. The brightness is nice, but the look of the clear sky above is is nicer.

"Of course I have, thank you for accompanying me, sir," I nudge his shoulder lightly, feeling the smile on my lips infect him too.

"You're most welcome, my lady," he returns, bowing his head in an exaggerated fashion, before reaching into the pocket of his coat, "just one more thing."

He hands me a small white box, wrapped in a bright red ribbon.

"Oh, are you proposing to me, Tomek? How romantic of you," I laugh, knowing that the box he gave me is too big to be a ring box. Judging by the size and quality, it likely is some kind of jewellery, perhaps a bracelet or necklace. Definitely not a ring.

"Unfortunately not, I couldn't afford a wedding anyway," he laughs, avoiding my gaze as I undo the red ribbon, "but I hope you like it - one last birthday present from me to you."

"You really shouldn't have, I don't know how you can afford these presents for me when you're a student, let alone a wedding," I ask him, not yet opening the box.

Tomasz had already provided me with two gifts this evening, wrapped up delicately and protected with bubble wrap, for my birthday. One was a framed photograph of somewhere in Germany, someplace he visited recently. I can't remember where it was. The other was a box of rather expensive looking chocolates. I hadn't had any of them yet, I was going to share them with the girls when I returned to the castle.

"Yeah, but I missed seeing you at the Festyn Zimowy last year, and I wanted to make your 18th birthday special," he smiled back up at me, "since you sent me a ridiculous amount of presents for my 18th last month."

I blushed at him. Yes, I might have gone overboard with the presents for him, but I get paid a lot for my work and I have very little expenses, so spending it on people I care about is the least I can do.

"I can afford it, Tomek."

"Are you opening that box, or not? The suspense is killing me here!"

"Alright!"

I took the hint, and finished opening the box, only to be met with the most dazzling, shimmering silver necklace I've ever seen.

The pendant is a star with some kind of clear gemstone rested in the centre. I'm doubtful that it's a diamond - I don't think he could afford that - but it's beautiful nontheless. There are a few other stars equidistant apart on either side of the main pendant, but these are smaller and without gems adorning them.

"Oh, Tomek!" I can't help but gasp.

Tomasz gestures for me to pass the box to him, which I dutifully do, and he carefully removes the necklace from the box and unclasps it, "I thought you could have something more special for your 18th birthday. I mean, you just took me to dinner and a show," I turn my back to him and move my hair to one side, as he stands up straight, gently lowering the necklace around my neck, and clasping it shut, "so I got you this. I hope you like it."

I look down at my new piece of jewellery, and feel so overwhelmed with gratitude, with happiness, that I almost totally miss the way Tomasz's voice trembled.

Still holding the box in one hand, I turn around to face him, and instantly wrap my arms around his neck. He is just slightly taller than me, but I don't have to stretch too far to hold him close.

"It's beautiful, Tomasz," I say into his ear, and I feel him wrap his arms around me too, "thank you so much. You've made this birthday so perfect."

"You're welcome, Słoneczka," he replies into mine.

We don't part from the embrace straight away, but before we do, I plant a soft kiss on his cheek. Without even thinking, and without shame. I know my cheeks are burning, but not as much as Tomasz's are. He is more surprised at my actions than I am.

"I'll treasure today, Tomek, always. I promise."

His smile returns, "as will I, Słoneczka. Shall we just stay here a little longer? Before we head back."

I nod, turning back around with him. But instead of facing the stars in the sky before me, I simply look down at the stars I was given, that I will wear with pride. I think both of us know what tonight was, and I'm perfectly fine with that.

Realising that I am really in love with Tomasz, those stars above our heads seem that much brighter.

[memorylang]

12 Months’ Pandemic Chronicled | #51 | March 2021

Happy Palm Sunday yesterday, and Happy Passover from the night before! Right under two weeks ago, March 16, 2O2I, marked the one-year anniversary to the close of my first Peace Corps Mongolia service. While I’ve continued to serve virtually, I’ve done so informally as a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer. Having lived these past 12 months back in the States, today’s tales chronicle that year. 

Also commemorating the one-year anniversary, I���ve uploaded dozens of photos from my first nine months serving Mongolia. You can find those on my Instagram and Facebook, from February and March. I begin today’s stories with those. From there, I chronicle my journey across the year. 

Evacuating Mongolia (February 2O2O)

February’s final week, on Ash Wednesday 2O2O, I was in Mongolia celebrating the third day of Tsagaan Sar, its Lunar New Year. Returning to my apartment from my last supper, I read an email from Peace Corps Mongolia that we were evacuating. I pulled an all-nighter packing my apartment. Shortly after sunrise, I visited a Peace Corps neighbor’s apartment to pack theirs. Then in my final two days, I said hasty goodbyes to community members, exchanging parting gifts. 

Sunday morning, which began Peace Corps Week and March 2O2O, I and fellow Volunteers loaded into Peace Corps vehicles and rode in our caravan till evening. Then the snowstorm caused us to need to stay overnight in a hotel coincidentally located in a city that my cohort would frequent during our summer 2OI9 for training. My evacuation group reached Mongolia’s capital Monday afternoon, with briefings from staff throughout Tuesday. Mongolia had already begun to enforce mask-wearing and physical-distancing, so we couldn’t do much with our final hours in Mongolia. Indeed, since mid-January, many public places had already closed due to quarantine. 

Wednesday night, the week after my peers and I had received notice of our evacuation and now mere hours before my group would depart the country, we awaited the arrival of fellow Peace Corps peers to the capital. For, Peace Corps staff staggered our arrivals into and departures from the capital to account for both the time drivers would need to assemble us from across the nation and the limited flight options still going out of the country. Those of us who remained awake through our final night enjoyed getting to see and embrace peers for our final moments together. 

Over the course of Thursday, March 5, my group flew first from Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia, through Moscow, Russia, to Berlin, Germany. Many of our itineraries diverged. From Germany, I and a few flew to Amsterdam, the Netherlands. From the Netherlands, I and a couple others flew to New York, New York. I slept four and a half hours’ in a hotel. Then I flew alone Friday from New York to Las Vegas, Nevada. I returned to my home of junior high and high school in North Las Vegas. 

American Twilight Zone (March 2O2O)

My first few weeks in the States felt weird, not just because of reverse culture shock. Back in Mongolia, fellow Peace Corps Volunteers, particularly Health Volunteers, had followed American media and read that our presidential administration had been downplaying the COVID-19 pandemic. Problematically, too, when leaders acknowledged it, some labeled it the “China virus” and accused Asians of spreading it. These set the tone. 

When I arrived in New York, I felt perturbed by the lack of mask-wearing and physical distancing. The morning when I’d fly out, I felt annoyed when the worker who checked me into my flight joked that I might have the virus since I’d flown in from Mongolia. Mongolia had no COVID cases—and wouldn’t have its first community transmission till November 11, 2O2O. Friends, too, when I said that I’d come back, distrusted that I couldn’t have the virus. So, although Peace Corps peers and I had already been quarantining nearly a month and a half before returning to the States—and very much craved to reconnect with folks—we found ourselves again isolated. 

Then Vegas felt weird. Nevada had reported its first COVID case the day before I returned, yet Mongolia hadn’t any. Yet Mongolia had shut down, and Nevada hadn’t. Society moved as though little was happening. My brothers still had school and were gone most of most days. Dad worked weekdays out-of-town. Thus, while I lived again in the States, even inside my family’s home, I was the only one around. I felt lonelier than how’d I’d felt before leaving my life abroad. 

The Filipina family of my father’s fiancée was perhaps the most understanding of my circumstances. The oldest daughter was celebrating her birthday that first Sunday, March 8, since my return to the States. So, I got to join them in enjoying the occasion. As I’d come to learn, Mongolia and the Philippines had more cultural similarities than I’d expected. I’d also feel dismayed to learn that people weren’t treating the youngest daughter kindly in her food service role, for some customers believed that her being Asian meant that she had the Coronavirus. 

Resettling Into Lent (March 2O2O)

Most every morning, my first few days and weeks, tracks from Disney's “Frozen II” became my anthems. I’d seen the film that Friday, March 6, when I’d flown alone back to Vegas. I’d connected especially with “Show Yourself,” “Some Things Never Change” and “The Next Right Thing.” I started to learn the lyrics not only in English but also in Mandarin Chinese and Spanish. 

My local church was still open. Meanwhile, in Mongolia, our church had been closed for nearly months. So, I attended services daily. I overheard old parishioners wondering what all this pandemic talk was about. I visited Reconciliation and a Stations of the Cross service. I applied to sing in the choir with which my late mom sang. 

My second week in the States, church and schools closed. Meanwhile, Peace Corps announced its global evacuation. My peers and I weren’t to expect to return to Mongolia this summer and instead were to expect that fall would be the soonest. My youngest brother’s hs senior spring ended abruptly, so he stuck around at the house. Our oldest brother left to quarantine with his girlfriend and her sisters. 

I cleaned much in and around the house. My greatest achievement early in the pandemic was to lead a garage clean-up with all siblings when my sisters visited. The task enabled us to at last park a vehicle in it once more. My siblings and I donated, too, decades of belongings. 

Among the unearthing, I dove deep into family history. I wrote up my understanding of my father's and my late mother's ancestries, which were also mine. Months later, I'd join WikiTree, talk to distant relatives and migrate large swathes of history onto the platform. 

Easter in Action (April–May 2O2O)

Gloom seemed to enshroud the world by Easter. I saw from the telly the Vatican's Lenten services, witnessing Pope Francis’ words from his city to the world and for Holy Week. His Good Friday Way of the Cross felt especially moving, for prisoners had written beautiful reflections that made me realize how little of a prison our quarantine was. 

My younger sister in LA had also returned to visit Vegas. I resumed daily exercise routines, including trying to concurrently complete handheld video games and walk miles on the treadmill. This began my May push to make the most of my days back in America. I kicked up a daily Duolingo habit, rising through leagues, and talked regularly with Mongols during early mornings. Such helped my sanity, especially when state offices gave me a hard time trying to get the unemployment assistance to which lawmakers entitled evacuated Returned Peace Corps Volunteers.  

Around Memorial Day, an uncle and aunt visited from Kansas to celebrate my youngest brother’s high school graduation online. The relatives also took my siblings, a family friend and me on my first national parks trip in years. We saw Saguaro, Great Basin and Capitol Reef. During the trip I’d grown my Goodreads library and soon enough uncovered the Libby app. The journey led me too to begin a pensive look back on my life. 

Summer in Reno (June–July 2O2O)

Dad remarried on June 6, 2020. Shortly thereafter, I relocated to Reno to help Pa and Stepma (“Tita”) handle copious amounts of yard work. With more time to reflect, I took up the request of a homebound friend to pray rosaries daily over the phone with him. 

Another friend of mine was going through a dark patch too but had a love of films. So each morning I’d rise early to see one of his recommendations then discuss it while working the yard if I wasn’t praying a rosary. I fondly recall the conversations while trimming plants, as I wander the Reno backyard even now. 

Near the same time, the friend and another encouraged me to tell my stories. So I began to write a memoir, on which he’d give feedback. The other friend had me appear on his podcast. Both experiences made the summer feel very whole. In memory of my first summer in Mongolia 2OI9, I also wrote a more detailed series on those experiences. [Arrival (June 2OI9), Meeting Host Family (July 2OI9), Summer’s End (August 2OI9)]

I celebrated my 23rd birthday in Vegas with an overnight vigil, praying 23 rosaries alone and with Catholic friends from around the globe. I felt such joy to reconnect meaningfully with so many across languages and cultures. Languages became a growing theme for me. I’d also begun again playing Pokémon GO after having not played since 2OI6. 

That summer, I finished seeing “Star Wars: The Clone Wars” (Season 7) as well as relevant bits from “Star Wars: Rebels.” I kept up with the Japanese episodes of “Pokémon Journeys: The Series.” Those, I’ve watched with English subtitles to know what’s happening. I’d also begun to read chapters of the Bible daily, at that time checking in weekly with an ol' friend. I started with Acts then Proverbs, Ephesians then Psalms. Meanwhile came Hebrews and John. Then were Ruth and Matthew. Now I read 1 Kings and Mark. I’d grown to appreciate both the Hebrew and Christian Bibles with renewed interest. 

Autumn Languages (August–September 2O2O)

Much of that fall, I was back in Reno. Yet, my younger brother had also come to Reno for his undergraduate fall semester. The guest room where I’d stayed quickly became his room, which left me a tad displaced. Still, I stuck through. Mornings, I rose early to read through a Latin textbook before daily conversations with a close friend who’d majored in classics as an undergrad.

Meanwhile, I’d stepped up to arrange meetings with Congressional lawmakers on behalf of the National Peace Corps Association. I’d also taken on roles within my alma mater Honors College and within the Social Justice Task Force for the American Psychological Association’s Society for the Psychology of Religion and Spirituality. I kept people organized and took notes during meetings. Meanwhile, my siblings and I had been starting a scholarship foundation, so I’d taken point on negotiating a partnership with the Vegas-based Public Education Foundation. 

As a nice break, I joined friends I’d met in high school on their near-monthly trips to national and state parks. These sights included Lassen Volcanic, Burney Falls and Tahoe’s Emerald Bay. Realizing that I wouldn’t return to Mongolia that fall, I booked a Department of Motor Vehicles appointment to renew my learner’s permit—The earliest appointment would be in December. 

In entertainment news, I’d finished seeing “Queer Eye: We’re in Japan,” “Love on the Spectrum” and “Midnight Gospel.” I’d also started playing “Pokémon Masters EX” when I’d heard that it included characters from multiple generations. I enjoyed how the stories felt new yet nostalgic. 

National Park Winter (October, November, December 2O2O)

October was a great month for my spiritual life. I got to attend my youngest sister’s Confirmation. I enjoyed my first retreat in years. I also got to tape videos for my alma mater. 

Then I returned to Vegas some weeks to complete more yard work. I’d also relocated belongings in different rooms and was able to have my own bedroom back in Vegas. This gave me a decent space in which to work. From November, I’ve also been hosting weekly video calls to help Mongols from my community abroad continue to practice English. 

I’d also listened to Riordan audiobooks, “Blood of Olympus” and “Hidden Oracle,” and various authors’ financial literacy materials. By December, “Kafka on the Shore” was a real highlight. In Reno, I saw too “The Mandalorian” (Seasons 1–2), emphatically recommended by a friend with whom I’d hiked at Red Rock Canyon. My other friends and I reunited to try again at Crater Lake and succeeded. 

My siblings and I partnered with the Vegas-based Public Education Foundation to launch our family LinYL Foundation to honor our late mother with scholarships for students. Though my formal role’s within outreach, I’ve done a fair bit of organizational leadership given my undergrad experiences. I’ve also been helping another non-profit start-up. Through it, I’ve gotten to meet alumni of overseas programs. 

My family celebrated Thanksgiving and Christmas in Vegas with our stepsisters. I’d also celebrated American Independence Day with them. Christmas felt peculiar, as I’d returned from Mongolia to Vegas the Christmas before, too! 

Then my national parks friends and I hit a new record, seeing Walnut Canyon, Petrified Forest, Meteor Crater, Sedona’s Devil’s Bridge and the Grand Canyon. Having successfully renewed my learner’s permit, I scheduled my driving test for the earliest date—February. I returned to Reno and at New Year’s reunited with friends for whom I’d participated in their wedding the year before. 

Road to Rejuvenation (January–February 2O2I)

Following the U.S. elections came the presidential inauguration. I felt more at peace with the state of the nation after that. Though U.S. politics have absorbed media significantly throughout the pandemic, I felt relieved by the calls for unity and returns to political normalcy from Inauguration Day. 

Meanwhile, I sought to kick off 2O2I strong, with renewed optimism and control. I practiced driving almost daily. I’d seen “Daredevil” (Season 3) too and progressed in the Blue Lions story of my younger sister’s “Fire Emblem: Three Houses” copy. At February’s start, after years of challenges, I secured my driver’s license. 

Mid-February, my national parks friends and I saw Utah’s Mighty Five. Our trip spanned Canyonlands, Arches, Capitol Reef (different section), Escalante, Bryce Canyon and Zion. I got to help drive at the end from Vegas to Reno, a major milestone. 

Thanks to Discord, I attended a virtual alumni reunion of my high school alma mater. I experienced our school's recreation in “Minecraft: Java Edition,” wandering into the classroom where I used to play “Minecraft” as a freshman. In “RuneScape,” after 12 years on-off, I’d achieved level 99 in all but the newest skill. I'd even gotten the characters I wanted in “Pokémon Masters EX” and nearly finished my Kanto Pokédex in “Pokémon GO.” (I've never before completed a Pokédex.) 

I finished February recording music for my undergrad parish’s online edition to our annual performance for “Living Stations of the Cross.” I got to lector at and attend a friend’s baptism. I’d also soaked up my youngest sister’s boyfriend’s Disney+ again and saw “WandaVision” entirely. Its takes on grief and joy astounded. 

Social Justice (March 2O2I)

These bring me to where and how I am today. I write from Reno, Nev., where snow had fallen and the weather grown warmer. Spring is here. 

The announcement of increasing vaccines gave me lots of hope. Since I've lost so many people this past year to COVID-19 and other conditions I'm grateful that we may near the end. An email from and a check-in call with Peace Corps confirmed that summer would be the soonest I’m going back abroad. Still, I’ve kept in touch with my people in Mongolia. 

My older brother and his girlfriend moved into the Vegas house, so I haven’t felt as obligated to be there. Thus, I’ve focused more time on the church in Reno. 

A great fount of a spiritual joy for me has been getting to help lector for my college parish’s weekly Proclamations of the Word. I received particular acclaim for my reading from 2 Chronicles, for Lent’s Fourth Sunday, which delighted me. At the time I’d been reading 1 Kings, so I’d enjoyed recognizing parallels. In some ways the exercises are like a miniature college course. Beyond regular Sundays and Holy Week, I’d also lectored for such feast days as St. Joseph’s Day (March 19) and the Annunciation (March 25). 

My siblings’ and my family foundation chose our first year of recipients. It’s been an exciting process, reading and witnessing our inspiring candidates. I hope that I'll get to meet these students someday, but ah, the pandemic. 

I’ve gotten back into “Frozen II,” thanks to its authentic behind-the-scenes docuseries. I've also passed the one-year anniversary of my first seeing the film. Each morning I’ve sought to see something on Disney's platform—real' nice. 

Our psychological division’s presidential task force for Social Justice released our statement about the Capitol riots, which received strong critics but stronger supporters. Then came the Atlanta situation. 

In my U.S. Week 5I (Feb. 19–25), during a walk past the nearby elementary school, I’d had an unpleasant personal experience that led me to feel very grateful when the #StopAsianHate campaign began. I’ll likely share more later, but today’s blog story is about done. 

Hope and Easter 2O2I (April 2O2I)

At the last Adoration activity before Easter, our parish offered Reconciliation, so I returned again. Absolution offers such sweet cleansing for my mind and soul. Now Holy Week begins. I'm still lectoring, too! 

This summer, I hope to write more on my memoir. I’m still revising my research. I'm set to finish all five tiers of Duolingo Latin tomorrow. Then I'll get back to my textbook. 

I still delight in chatting with ol’ friends. My national parks homies and I will hit Redwood next weekend. Then my parish has Spring Retreat. I look forward to getting vaccinated in coming months then hugging folks forevermore. 

You can read more from me here at DanielLang.me :)

[astraeagreengrass]

Right Where You Are, That’s Where I Am

Sometimes, finding yourself means finding someone

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1.904

Warnings: Angst, allusions to violence and PTSD, fluffy ending

A/N: This is my submission to @wkemeup​’s 4K Writing Challenge. My prompt was “Mariner’s Apartment Complex” by Lana del Rey. Thank you Kas for having me and congratulations on such an impressive milestone! ��

Disclaimer: I don’t own Bucky Barnes or any other fictional characters mentioned in this story - they are property of Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. The title belongs to Lana Del Rey. The plot is my own creation.

You lose your way, just take my hand  You're lost at sea, then I'll command your boat to me again

The plane left you in the border of Burundi.

From the muddy, narrow airstrip to the meeting point it took you four hours in a 1977 Jeep CJ-7. The air-conditioner was broken, forcing you to roll down the windows hoping for some breeze, but no such luck. Your hair was stuck to your nape and your skin collected mosquito bites as you drove through the heart of Africa, trailing the Mwiruzi river, guided only by an old printed map and a vibranium compass.

You reached the village at nightfall. Less than twenty houses formed a semi-circle around a tiny square, a well right in the middle of it. It was similar to hundreds of other villages you passed through on your way, but a rune drawn in white paint on the door of the house closest to the road gave it away as the right one.

You parked the Jeep beneath a Tamboti tree, tucking the keys under the passenger’s side seat cushion. Taking your backpack and a black duffel bag, you exited.

Nakia was waiting for you at the porch of the seventh house, a fussing baby in her arms. She was trying to soothe him with a lullaby sung in xhosa, her melodious voice the only sound apart from the crickets, but the child was insistent. Realizing she wouldn’t acknowledge you until the child was calm, you sat in the rickety wooden porch step, tucking your head between your knees. You hadn’t slept in over two days and finally finding Nakia gave you some unexpected relief that allowed the exhaustion to creep in.

“We’re leaving in the morning” she announced a few minutes later, when the baby surrendered to sleep. “You can rest until then.”

You wouldn’t, but it was nice of her to offer.

“It’s safe here” she added and you just nodded. That wasn’t enough guarantee to let your guard down.

Nakia sighed, only minor frustrated. Your behaviour annoyed her, but she knew she couldn’t demand much from you, even if you did look dead on your feet.

“Come on” she said, mentioning with her head for you to follow her inside. The house consisted of a single room, a kitchen, and two long, pic-nic style tables. It was relatively full, which immediately startled you, but your deft gaze was quick to assess that these people were more suspicious of you than you were of them.

There were no adult men, only women and children. The oldest boy appeared to be around twelve, and was carefully tucked to his mother’s side. There were other babies like the one Nakia extended to a girl sitting by the door, before exclaiming in igbo:

“Ayo! The milk is here!”

Ayo was a middle-aged woman mixing food by the stove. She nodded, but made no move to step away from her careful cooking.

“Are you hungry?”

You were, but it didn’t look like you were welcome. Regardless, Nakia mentioned you forward. Taking the black duffel bag from your hands, your host started taking out the cans of milk formula you bought in Johannesburg.

The request seemed odd to you at first: why did Nakia, the Kenyan heiress turned Wakandan spy, needed dozens of cans of milk formula somewhere in Tanzania? It looked as though this room was the answer.

Ayo wordessly placed a bowl of githeri in front of you. It was delicious and you didn’t hesitate when she offered you seconds. While you ate, Nakia and the cook stacked the cans in neat piles on the cabinet under the sink. You were still eating when they finished.

"We'll take your car to Mukigina" Nakia stated. "Someone will get us there."

"When?"

"In sixteen hours."

"How long from here to Mukigina?"

"A little over seven hours if we go off the road."

You shrugged. You've been going off the road for a while now.

"Can I ask you something?" she leaned closer to you. Nakia could easily be mistaken by one of your sisters, with her flawless features and deadly skills. But the gleam in her eyes, still present after all the terrible things she's seen during her undercover work as a War Dog, set her apart from the daughters of the Red Room. She wasn't broken, battered and bruised on the inside like you were. And all the horrors she'd witnessed weren't caused by her. "How did you know he was in Wakanda?"

You met Nakia at an underground casino in Busan right after the fall of Hydra. She was following a lead on a poacher of and you were following a lead on him. When the poacher  turned out to be more vicious than she expected, it was your bullet in his head that solved the problem. You never met again - until two weeks ago, when you saw her standing next to the Wakandan king at the United Nations.

"My sister was with your king in the summer" you explained. "In Germany."

"Oh" her eyebrows rose so high they disappeared under her headscarf. "Romanoff?"

"Yeah."

"That explains how you know him."

You snorted.

"How did you think I knew him?"

"I don't know..." she trailed off. "Honestly, for the past two years I've thought about you constantly. You saved my life and I couldn't even say a proper thank you before you disappeared. I thought maybe you were an Avenger, but you're too squirmish for that. And none of them wear black, do they? They love their bright colors."

You laughed, the first real one in a long time.

Nakia patted you on the shoulder gently.

"I meant what I said earlier. You should get some sleep."

"Sleep isn't really my thing" you muttered.

"Every single girl in this village was rescued from the Boko Haram. We secured this location a couple of months ago because these men, these terrorists… They don't care about the women they steal, but they do care about their children. Especially if they're boys. So don't be ashamed of your nightmares, 'cause we're used to them around here."

You scanned the room. Most of the girls had left, but there were still three huddling by the stove, listening carefully to Ayo's instructions. They didn't look a day older than sixteen. At sixteen, you'd already killed more men than you could count with both hands. You wondered if they'd kill their kidnappers if given the chance.

Nakia's room was in the house next door. Moonlight filtered in through the curtainless window, bathing the small chamber in silver glow. You were asleep before your head hit the pillow.

In less than a day, you'd gone from old cars and dirty roads to spaceships and hover carriers.

Birnin Zana - The Golden City - rose miraculously under the savanna sun. Skyscrapers as high was the eye could see, a protective dome and cutting-edge technology - all of it coexisting in perfect harmony with nature and ancient traditions.

Nakia placed you in a hut in the outskirts of the city - close enough that you could visit Princess Shuri’s laboratory everyday but far enough that the locals wouldn’t be bothered by a foreigner’s presence.

The first week was torture. Blurry recollections of your past haunted your dreams, leaving you gasping for air, staring out the window until the first light appeared behind the trees. From dawn to dusk you'd stay at the lab, guarding his frozen body like a ghost.

It finally got on Shuri’s nerve.

“That’s it. I'm kicking you out."

She sent you to the Dora Milaje. Their leader, Okoye - tall, gorgeous and intimidating - was apparently looking forward to meet you. On a grassy field overlooking the river she handed you a wooden stick.

"Let's set how you fight without a gun" she said with a smirk.

It was disastrous. Okoye and the other warriors were graceful, silent and fast like cheetahs, meanwhile you were a hippo in heels, scrambling with the wooden stick. Madame B's voice taunted you, like the devil on your shoulder, seething everytime they bested you. On the fourth day of training your demons finally caught up to you and you broke down.

Okoye held you, whispering in soft Yoruba that you were safe.

A month later you braved the market. Manioc, okra and tomatoes in a booth, turmeric, cardamom and nutmeg in the other. The smell was intoxicating, swirling in your brain in gormandize like never before. You left chewing on a ripe piece of watermelon, pink juice staining your lips, with a pot of African violets cradled in your arms.

The violets were placed in your kitchen table - two seats, one for you and one for him when he came. Soon afterwards they were joined by a banana bunch, plucked from the tree in your yard.

The discovery of the banana tree made way for lettuce, eggplant and pumpkin. The seeds were gifted to you by Queen Ramonda herself and they took to the soil like sand to sea. When you noticed the first green leaf sprouting from the earth, you wept. Your hands, once made for killing, were now giving life.

The food welcomed the children. They'd play in your yard, sidestepping the flower beds like a dance. When they grew tired, they barged in, all five or six of them demanding lemonade and strawberries and questions.

"What does snow feels like?"

"Do you miss Russia?"

"Is it true the Americans think Africa is a country?"

Like ground ice. No. Some of them do, yes.

It was late December when Shuri gave you the news.

"We're ready to wake him up."

They placed his sleeping body on the bed, saying that he should rise by himself in a few hours. Suddenly, you were fourteen again, waiting behind bulletproof doors in a secret facility in Siberia, waiting to meet him for the first time. Only he wasn't the Asset or Soldat anymore. He had a name, a history, a mind of his own.

You'd killed for him. Tortured innocents. Thwarted governments. Broke a thousand rules just to be closer to your forbidden lover. Schemed and lied looking for his freedom, uselessly. Lost yourself trying to find him.

"Come with me" Natalia pleaded. "That spy I was supposed to kill in Budapest… He spared me. Said he can take us both to America. S.H.I.E.L.D. will offer us protection."

"I can't" you refused. "I can't leave him."

"You'll die before you save him."

Your sister was wrong: you survived. And now, halfway across the world, fate gifted you with another chance.

The children woke him. They scurried out of the house, laughing and chanting. Emhlope ingcuka, they called him. White wolf.

James Buchanan Barnes found you gazing at the horizon beyond the lake. Slowly, testing his legs, he walked over to your side.

"Good morning" you smiled.

"Good morning."

"How are you feeling?" you asked.

"Good."

You turned then, eyes catching his in the warm daybreak. A breeze ruffled his hair and your skirt, a gentle reminder that it was real. You were real.

"James?" you tried, hesitantly.

"Bucky" he declared in triumph.

"Bucky" you liked it. It suited him. "It's nice to meet you, Bucky. I'm sorry it took so long."

His right hand squeezed yours. Callus and scars met callus and scars. Your rough edges molded into his in a perfect fit, in this new land that took you in as its own.

You were home.

My masterlist

Everything taglist: @scentedsongrebel​ @youclickedthislink​ @thegetawaywriter​

[eretzyisrael]

More than 350 years ago, a plague took a deadly toll on Hamburg, Germany. As the High Holidays approached, fear and panic set in and many of the city’s Jewish families fled.

Among them were Glikl and Hayyim Hamel, successful Jewish merchants who left with their three young children, including an 8-week-old daughter. En route to Hayyim’s parents, they spent time with relatives in Hanover, where some locals came to suspect their oldest daughter, 4-year-old Tsipor, was infected. Despite their assurances that she wasn’t ill, Glikl and Hayyim were forced to banish Tsipor and her caregivers to another town and were only allowed to visit from a distance.

“I will let any good father or mother judge for themselves how we felt,” Glikl would later write in her memoir. “My husband, of blessed memory, stood in a corner, weeping and pleading, while I stood in a corner.”

In the midst of a viral pandemic that again is separating parents from their children, Glikl’s poignant rendering of the family’s ordeal rings chillingly familiar. And as of last December, English readers can appreciate it for themselves thanks to the first new English translation in nearly 60 years.

[purplesurveys]

657

~A~ Is your birthday before August? Yep, and the month starts with A, too – my birthday’s in April. Are you an Aries? Close enough. I’m a Taurus. Would you consider yourself Artistic? Hell nah.

~B~ Are you a Brunette? I am not. Do you have Blue eyes? No I don’t. Hair and eye color questions get so tiring to answer, lmao. Your Best friend? I have two best friends.

~C~ What is your favorite Channel on TV? Mmm I don’t watch TV anymore but I think my favorite would be either TLC or E!, because I’m a sucker for dumb reality shows, lmao. Back when I still used cable religiously I’d normally tune in to Fox. Have you ever been to Chicago, IL? Nope but it’s one of my dream destinations for sure. Do you have a Crush on anyone? Yep. It’d be weird to be in a long-term relationship with someone I didn’t have a crush on haha.

~D~ Where is your Dad right now? As far as I know he’s stationed in Australia and is staying there until the end of his term. His ship normally has cruises around Japan, China, and South Korea but because of the coronavirus going around exactly in that region, his company has made everyone stay in Australia for the meantime. Are your parents Divorced? No. Even if they wanted to they couldn’t, because divorce is illegal here. Do you have your Driver's license? Yeah, I’ve had it for four years.

~E~ What did you last Eat? I’m eating chocnut at the moment :) I haven’t had it in a while but I had a sudden craving for it last weekend, so my mom bought a pack just for me.

How many piercings do you have in your Ears? Two, one in each earlobe.

Is it past Eleven o'clock am? Way past, it’s 7:17 PM.

~F~ Who was your First friend? My first friend was a girl named Kaye that I met in kinder. She has very common first and last names, so it’s been impossible to find her on social media and reconnect with her.

Who was your First Boyfriend/Girlfriend? Gabie.

Where was your last airplane Flight to? Flying back to Manila from Batanes.

~G~ Are you a Gemini? Nope, but you’ve mentioned the star signs before and after my real one, Taurus.

Have you ever been to Germany? I have not. But Germany is kinda close to my heart because Nacho was always studying to be fluent in German. When he passed we came up with an inside joke that he actually just moved to Germany to finally fulfill his dreams, and that joke became a source of comfort for us. 

How many of your Grandparents are still living? Three out of four.

~H~ Are you in High School? Nope. It’s been nearly four years since I graduated. :)

What is your favorite Holiday? My birthday, if it counts. If it doesn’t, Halloween. If that also doesn’t, I don’t have a favorite holiday I guess.

What do you Hear right now? Just my electric fan whirring. I don’t feel like having background noise at the moment.

~I~ What is your favorite flavor of Ice cream? Cookies and cream!

Have you ever been Ice skating? Yesssss it was one of my favorite pastimes as a kid. I never took lessons, I never learned a single trick, but I could glide for hours, and that was enjoyable enough for me. My parents used to drop me off at ice skating rinks while they did the groceries and went window shopping, because they knew I’d find those boring.

Can you play any Instruments? No. I can play simple tunes on the recorder but like almost everybody can use the recorder, so I don’t even count it anymore hah.

~J~ Does your name begin with J? It doesn’t...and my name is still pretty far down the alphabet.

Does your birthday fall in the months of January, June, or July? None of those months.

Do you know anyone who speaks Japanese? I probably do. UP is a very diverse community and I just know there’s a community out there with varying degrees of knowledge of Japanese dedicated to learning the language.

~K~ Do you regret your last Kiss? Not at all.

Do you have any Kids? I don’t.

Have you ever taken a Karate class? No but I used to be jealous of my kuya because he regularly took taekwondo as a kid. I thought it was super cool seeing his uniform and the color of his belt gradually changing.

~L~ Who was the last person to tell you 'I Love you'? My girlfriend.

Have you ever been to the Statue of Liberty? No.

When was the last time you went to a Library? Uhhhhh last week. For one of my classes, we had to go to the main library’s AVR to watch a documentary on Jose Rizal. 

~M~ What is your Middle name? Meh, I’m not saying that on her.

How old is your Mother? She’s 48, but is turning 49 later this year.

What is your favorite kind of Music? It varies. I have favorite artists, not genres, so my taste in the latter is really spread out.

~N~

What are the last 4 digits of your phone Number? Nope.

What does your Name mean? Last time I checked it means something like fame or bright or star.

Do you have any Nieces or Nephews? No, but I was already assigned to be a godson to my cousin when I was 15 which is close enough. About nieces or nephews though, I’m one of the oldest kids from our generation so if anything, my relatives are waiting on me and my other similarly-aged cousins to be the first ones to have kids haha.

~O~ Do you live on your Own? I don’t. I still live with my parents as do most Filipino kids/young adults do. I’m planning to move to my own place within a couple of years, though.

Are you the Oldest child? Yes I am.

Do you know anyone who lives in Oregon? I don’t think so.

~P~ What are your Parent's names? Edgardo and Abby. My dad goes by a certain nickname also but he hates it, so only family and close friends call him that.

Do you have any Pets? Yes, I have the cutest, sweetest, chubbiest dog on the floor beside me.

Do you have any Polish ancestry? I’m like 300% sure that I do not lmao.

~Q~ Have you ever been to Quebec? Nope.

A Quote you like: Just because I recently rewatched Titanic: “A woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets,” said by Rose by the end of the film, when she talks about how she has never talked about Jack until that moment, not even to her granddaughter’s grandfather.

Do you ever eat at Quizno's? I have never eaten there and have only ever seen one branch here in Metro Manila, which has since been replaced with a Krispy Kreme as far as I know.

~R~ When was the last time you saw a Rainbow? A safe guess would be a few weeks ago.

Are you a Redhead? Nope.

What was the last book you Read? It was a book on communication theory that I needed to read for my community press elective.

~S~ When was the last time you Slept in someone else's bed? A month ago, I think? I have bad short-term memory lmao, but that’s my best guess.

Are you a Scorpio? Again, no.

Would you consider yourself a Shy person? I am at first but I can warm up pretty easily.

~T~ How many Tattoos do you have? Approximately zero.

Are you a Twin? No.

Do you like Techno? No.

~U~ Do you own an Umbrella? Not anymore. I used to keep buying new ones but I keep losing them, so I just stopped buying altogether and just relied on hoodies whenever it would rain.

Are you Under 21? Nope.

Have you ever been to Utah? I have nottttt.

~V~ Are you a Virgin? No.

Have you ever been to Vatican City? No.

Where did you last go on Vacation? Our last legit vacation would be the one in Batanes. We’ve had several out-of-town trips after that, but those were usually quick, weekend getaways.

~W~ How many Windows are in the room you're in? One, but there’s also a set of glass doors here.

What are you Wearing? Just an ordinary t-shirt and shorts.

Can you Whistle? Yes I can.

~X~ How many X-rays have you had in the last 2 years? Zero.

Are you on good terms with your last Ex? So good I’ve been dating her again in the last four years, lol.

Do you own an Xbox? We’ve never owned an Xbox. This family takes their Playstation love seriously.

~Y~ Who is the Youngest person living in the same household as you? My brother, who is currently 16.

Are you wearing anything Yellow? Nope.

Are you Younger then the last person you kissed? No. I’m older, but only barely.

~Z~ When was the last time you visit the Zoo? I’ve never been to a zoo. The closest thing to a zoo that I’ve been to was a safari, and that would be like 6-7 years ago.

How many Zippers are on the clothing you’re wearing? None.

What is your Zipcode? No thanks.

[guidemeua]

What attractions in Kiev to visit?  —  Guide me UA

Planning your trip to Kiev and don’t know what to start with?

The first question that you will surely ask is whether it is safe to go to Kiev. And YES, it is! Just a few weeks ago, the final of the UEFA Champions League Final 2018 took place, which was attended by 50 thousand football fans. And every year millions of tourists come to Ukraine. So lets set up what attractions in Kiev to visit.

And this is must-see places in Kiev:

The Lavra Monastery

In the distant 1051 year, a monk Anthony settled in a cave in one of the forests of the Kiev hills. His piety was attracting believers, people wanted to be his disciples. The number of monks began to grow, soon they left the dungeons; today the caves are only an object of pilgrimage. But when visiting caves, you can see the mummified bodies of holy monks, if you do not have claustrophobia. Take a local by Guide me UA to bring you there.

Private Tours to the Lavra Monastery were organized for large groups, as well as for small and solo-tourists:

Private Tour to Lavra Monastery for the group from Lithuania

Private Tour to Lavra for guests from Albania

Mezhyhirya Mansion of Yanukovych

Tourists, who have already experienced Kiev tour to Mezhyhirya, unanimously repeat: “We want to come back here. Mezhyhirya shall be the National Park of Ukraine!”

From the outside, Honka where Viktor Yanukovich lived with Lyubov Polezhai and her daughter is relatively modest, but inside it is a model of merchant’s insatiable craving for luxury. Every detail, every accessory of the interior costs crazy sums of money by any standard: for example, the price of door handle was 43 thousand dollars, the chandelier — 350 thousand USD, etc. Just imagine: the former owner has paid 1.695.744 EUR for woodworks for the dining room and tearoom!

Tour to Mezhyhirya for German guests

Tour to Mezhyhirya by Guide me UA

Try Kyiv Perepichka

Perepichka — the legendary sausage in fried dough, the must-have snack if you are the guest of the Ukrainian capital. You will certainly define this place by the long queue.

Guests from Sweden

St. Andrew’s Church in Kiev

Remarkable attraction that definitely worth your attention! This baroque church sits majestically on top of Andriyivska Hill and was built in the mid-18th by Italian architect. Climbing the viewing platform of the church, you will discover a magnificent view of the oldest part of the city — Podol. The church itself is closed until 2010.

Kiev speak-easy bars

Of course bars are not attractions, but many go on vacation to relax and visit beautiful restaurants with delicious cocktails, and in Kiev there are many such places. Take notes: Parovoz speak easy bar, Alchemist Bar, Loggerhead, Barman Diktat, Hangover. Unfortunately, most of these bars you will not find, since they are hidden in backyard, you need a Nightlife Guide.

Pub Crawl for guests from Germany

Pub Crawl for guests from Australia

Contact Guide me UA to order private Kiev tour:

+380 66 067 90 89 WhatsApp, Viber, SMS, Calls

info@guideme.com.ua

Skype: Guide me UA

www.guideme.com.ua

[paulriedelposts]

Going Out in Munich: Ratskeller

Visiting different bars and restaurants for my readers I was this week at Ratskeller. One of the places that possess something more on its own. When I started my beer tour around Munich many years ago, I was aware that I could bump out on a lot of locations. Some of them perhaps have been amazing, some were odd but unique. The location of this magnificent restaurant is one of a kind though. Direct under the new city Hall. You can expect to find a restaurant in some large building with a couple of stories in it. But I know you couldn’t imagine one in a basement. That’s where this bar actually is, but it will be more clear to you by continuing reading this.

Around the world are some Ratskeller

Germany Ratskeller is a name in German-speaking countries for every facility that provides hospitality services. It is usually located in the basement of a city hall or nearby. Many taverns, nightclubs, bars and similar establishments throughout the world use this terminology. The word had been used in English since the mid-19th century. With at least one New York restaurant calling itself a ‘rathskeller’ in the 19th century, this term became standard in use. One Ratskeller was one of the oldest wine cellars in Germany and it was a center of the wine trade. It was the Ratskeller in Bremen. But another one was popular in northern Germany. There are other Ratskeller for instance in Lubeck. This one was one of the oldest ones in this part of the country with parts dating to the Romanesque era. The earliest documented use for wine storage dates to the year 1220. North America When it’s about America, their establishments tend to spell the word ‘Rathskeller’ to avoid similarity with the word rat. One facility that has served Bavarian fare since 1894 was the former ‘Das Deutsche Haus’, Ratskeller restaurant in Indianapolis. Nowadays, this place is known as the ‘Athenaeum’. Through the years of hard work and dedication, this place received historical landmark status. Ratskeller in Boston has even more significance though. It was a famous rock and roll club from 1974 to 1997. So, it was an active place for rock bands for two full decades. Here are performing some bands that are very popular today in the world of music. Bands like Metallica, The Police, The Pixies and The Cars were among the ones who performed here before they met glory. This place provided them a springboard for their future careers and achievements. Nevertheless, The Minnesota State Capitol contains a rathskeller. This recently renovated and restored in 2017. But this place is complete since 1905. For the openiung, the Ratskeller contained 29 painted mottoes in German. Also, it was home to a full-service restaurant. This is worth of admiration from my side. Currently, the Ratskeller is home to a café serving legislators and the public. How this bar had an influence on entire hospitality services in America telling us one great fact. Many universities and public institutions have pubs and student centers located in re-purposed basements. To market these non-traditional eating locations to students and patrons, many of these are termed Ratskeller or some variation thereupon. Some of them are Boston College, California Institute of Technology, Colorado State University and many others.

New Town Hall (Rathaus)

When we speak about the Ratskeller, it is hard not to mention a Rathaus. The New Town Hall is a town hall at the northern part of Marienplatz in Munich. It hosts the city government including the city council, offices of the mayors and a small portion part of the administration. In the year of 1874, the municipality had left the Old Town Hall for its new domicile. Rathaus in Munich is pretty big if I may say. This complex of brick and shell limestone has 6 courtyards built on the area of nearly 9200 square meters. Of this whole space, the building covers 7115 square meters. Luxury from the 19th century What is noticeable is that almost 100 meters long main facade. This richly decorated side leads to Marienplatz. It shows Guelph Duke, Henry the Lion and almost the entire line of the ‘House of Wittelsbach’ rule in Bavaria. Also, it is the most extensive Princely cycle at a German Town Hall. The other catchy thing here is a statue of the Prince Regent Luitpold. It applies to a central monument in the middle of the main facade between the two building sections on the Marienplatz. There are more interesting things to see on the main facade of the Marienplatz and on that of the Weinstrasse. You can find a Munich’s founders, Neo-gothic water fountains in the form of grimaces so as allegorical images too. Themes from the life of saints and folk legends are also available. Numerous glass windows with local, national and religious motifs adorn the building. During the final phase of World War II, most of the windows were destroyed, unfortunately. But the light at the end of a tunnel is always present. I mean that because most of the objects could be restored to their original form with the help of donations. Town Hall and its breathtaking view As I already mentioned, the New Town Hall is the home of the Mayor and the city council which has its conference room here. The council factions and small parts of the city administration are accommodated too. The library hall was built to accommodate the Council’s legal library and is still a publicly available library. It is under the administration of the Munich City Library. Something that is really worth mentioning is that this town hall had been a part of sportsmen's and athlete's success. They were often honored for their sports achievements as the manifestation of giving medals was held here. It is a special honor to look down upon the observers from the balcony of the Mayor’s office which is located in the ‘Rathausturm’ below the clock. I know how this experience can be a huge privilege to every athlete and people from the world of sport. Just imagine that view from the balcony, like in some fairy tale right? Also, the Rathausturm you can use the lift and visit the gallery with an woanderful view to Marienplatz. On a clear day, you can see the Alps, the church of Old Peter, the Marienplatz, the Holy Spirit Church and the Old Town Hall from there. How astonishing is that? In the north you see, the Theatinerkirche and Olympiaturm. In the west, you can see the Frauenkirche and St. Paul’s Church. Above all the details there is the Glockenspiel, or the clock. The idea of integrating a clock chime into the tower of the Town Hall goes back to Georg von Hauberrisser. The costs were substantial and the 43 bells cost 154000 gold-marks alone. Karl Rosipal, an antique dealer, donated in 1904 32.000 marks for the furniture. Rathskeller's service and food I feel free to tell you what I have experienced here and what are my own impressions about this place. Ratskeller is a great place to eat when you find yourself in Munich’s old town. From all the restaurants in Munich, this one like it has its own soul. In the basement of the city hall, this restaurant is traditional in German cuisine and very nicely maintained. I have come a couple of times. The first time I had a full meal but for my standards. As I am a vegetarian just imagine what full meal of mine looks like. Ratskeller is also a big size. The first time I was in a more formal part of the dining room with vaulted ceilings which felt mid-evil in nature. The meal was delicious and the service was topnotch. My second visit this past September was during the season when Italian prunes are in season. It lends itself to a cake that I like to eat often. I was fortunate finding it here. It made different than the recipe I'm mused to. I had to get over that for a while. Our server reminded me so much of one of my friends and she was really kind and motherly when tending to me. I enjoyed that pretty much I must admit because I like kind persons with visible warmth in their hearts. Prices are a bit steep though. Ones, I came in on a Sunday evening without a reservation but they were able to accommodate me easily. All in all, I spent really nice time on every visit so I hope that I can find myself here once again, this time with my husband!

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[mariacallous]

Thousands of people who fled the Taliban’s takeover of Afghanistan more than a year ago have yet to be resettled, and many are crammed into temporary housing while their kids go without school. Some refugees have been forced out of government-supported accommodations to make way for refugees from the war in Ukraine, and they cannot access their own bank accounts, which have been frozen by U.S. sanctions.

The collapse of the Afghan republic on Aug. 15, 2021, and the return to power of the terrorist-led Taliban sparked a chaotic evacuation by the United States and allies of people who feared retribution. Those fears were realized as the Taliban hunted down people who had worked with the Western-backed government and its security forces, civil society, and media. Many have been arbitrarily detained, tortured, killed, or forced to leave the country.

According to reports, more than 1 million Afghans have fled their country since the Taliban’s return. Many of the evacuees went to third countries to be processed for resettlement in the United States. In Britain, the government has been criticized for its lack of support for Afghan refugees, many of whom suffer deteriorating mental health amid rising domestic violence. They cannot work while their asylum applications are processed, and for many families, their children cannot go to school until they have been allocated housing. In Britain and Germany, Afghan refugees were forced to make way for people fleeing fighting in Ukraine. Lone women often face sexual harassment.

Horakhsh Amini just arrived in Canada after languishing for a year in a refugee camp in the United Arab Emirates, spending much of that time confined to one room with his wife and four young children, not even permitted to walk around the facility due, he said, to COVID-19 restrictions. “We never saw the sky,” he said. People literally went crazy “because of the uncertainty about how long they would be there.”

Amini, a doctor who was teaching surgery in a major hospital before the collapse of the republic, was entitled to resettlement in the United States after working as a medical translator with the U.S. military in Mazar-i-Sharif, Afghanistan. He said on the rare occasions U.S. officials visited the camp, all any of them could tell him was: “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You have to complete the SIV [special immigration visa] process, and it takes two or three years.’”

Protests became regular events, Amini said, as the thousands of people at the facility called for, as he put it, “freedom.” No outside visitors were permitted, and none of the residents could leave the center, called the Emirates Humanitarian City, apart from medical emergencies. Neither UAE nor camp officials could be reached for comment.

His relief at escaping Taliban death threats soon evaporated, he said—until about a month ago, when he heard Canadian officials were interviewing people who wanted to resettle in Canada. Amini, 44, jumped at the chance, and within a week, he and his family were on a plane to Ottawa. “We have found a way to live again,” he said. This week, his three oldest children, all girls, started school. “It’s fall here, and the colors of the trees are beautiful. The kids love it,” he said.

Canada accepted around 1,000 people from the UAE facility at the request of the United States, and it is expected to take another 500 people who have ties to Canada, Reuters reported; more than 10,000 people from the camp have been relocated to the United States, the news service said. The figures could not be independently verified.

But not all refugees are processed equally. Those awaiting resettlement in the United States are processed largely while still in a third country; those who are resettled in Canada will be processed after they arrive in Canada. The time for processing is about the same for each country, according to sources in the humanitarian sector, but the waiting room is a whole lot different. Nevertheless, the U.S. immigration system has been plagued by staff shortages since policy changes introduced by the Trump administration, exacerbating the frustration of people waiting to be processed for resettlement out of interim housing.

A former Afghan government official, age 32, who has spent a year at the UAE camp and asked that he not be named to protect the safety of his family still in Afghanistan, said a total of 17,800 people were evacuated to the UAE between August and November last year. “Fifteen thousand have left for the U.S., Canada, and Europe, with 90 percent going to America,” he said. Of the 2,800 people still in the camp, many, like him, are former civil servants and include military personnel, judges, attorneys, and journalists.

U.S. and Emirati officials visited the camp this month in an effort to quell two days of protests, said the source, who has two degrees from Georgetown University and said he also worked with the U.S. government in Afghanistan for three years. A U.S. Embassy official made no promises about how much longer resettlement would take, though an Emirati official said the camp would be closed within three months.

“I’m not confident about these promises. If the U.S. charge d’affairs and the UAE official had both said three months, I would be 95 percent confident. But I’m worried that it is not going to happen,” the Afghan source said. The U.S. Embassy in Abu Dhabi could not be reached for comment.

With his relocation to Canada, Amini and his family have escaped the fate of many desperate people who fled the Taliban’s takeover, flown to countries they’d never visited, and billeted in hotels, often with large families squeezed into one room with a bathroom but no kitchen or other facilities. As the Western world agonizes over the Taliban’s violent treatment of women and girls, confined to their homes and essentially banned from secondary school, the children of many Afghan refugees are kept out of school by a tortuously slow bureaucracy that makes them feel unwanted and unwelcome. Until they are resettled, they cannot work, but U.S. sanctions on Afghanistan’s financial sector mean they cannot access their bank accounts and must rely on handouts.

Treatment of evacuees has varied widely. In sharp contrast to the alleged conditions in the UAE, Albania’s open-door policy enabled thousands of refugees from Afghanistan and other countries, including Pakistan, to live in comfortable seaside resorts while their applications for resettlement were processed, said aid worker Gonxhe Kandri. However, she said, costs—including flights, food, and medical care—were largely covered by American nongovernment organizations like the National Endowment for Democracy.

Many of the Afghans who arrived in Albania in 2021 have already resettled in the United States and Canada, she said. About 1,000 more who have arrived should be resettled in the United States by next June, she added.

Back in Emirates Humanitarian City, the 32-year-old Afghan sees no light at the end of the tunnel. “I was in the United States for five years. I studied for my B.A. and M.A. at Georgetown University, I worked with the Americans in Afghanistan for three years, and yet they have left me in prison for one year. Then I see the Taliban being flown around the world in private jets. It is difficult to bear.”

[katiebruce]

adieu, 2019.

Here we are at the beginning of not only a new year, but a new decade. This past year went by so quickly (why are they always going by so much faster? Is this the true curse of aging?) that sometimes I had to hold my breath in an attempt to secure a quick moment for myself amidst it all. That is, I’m not trying to complain, nor say that 2019 wasn’t so incredibly fantastic to me; I digress. It’s just that I’m finding that the older that I get, the more challenging it becomes to live the life I want to live and still have time for myself at the close of the day, let alone to sit down and write about it. I am still deep in the throes of my Saturn Return, and so I know this is to be expected—and again, I don’t wish to complain about how bountiful my life was the past year. I simply state this in a moment of honest reflection, in hopes that in recapping my year, I can learn from it and make the new year ahead of me adopt a pace that isn’t so exhausting and altogether overwhelming. (It’s ironic that I wrote this pledge to myself a full week ago and have just now found the time to sit down and finish this silly, old little tradition I have for myself).

So, here it is, 2019. A final dance for you and I:

It started in the dark, with very loud soul music. My first NYE with a guaranteed kiss—my sweet prince Taylor. A New Year’s Day hangover dinner with some of the greatest at Parson’s, aka negroni slushies and fried chicken heaven.

My sister and Mom visited; the annual trip. Except this year something was different—Kelly’s hand was adorned with a newly acquired diamond weight. The engagement excitement had officially begun, and our usual visit of shopping, eating, drinking and comedy was suddenly buzzing with the anticipation of a wedding lurking somewhere around the new year’s corner.

I braced for the transition into my thirties—and the week it came couldn’t have been any sweeter. I’d just begun my seventh year as a flight attendant and was ready for a celebration of my twenties, and the journey they had taken me on. Taylor took me out for sushi and Shakespeare and we ended up sitting by the fire at a bar near my apartment when the clock struck midnight, and my twenties officially ended. The next day brought with it the promise of my best friend, Kris, and to my surprise, my best friend Nicole—a surprise trip that Lauren, Taylor, Kris and she had been in cahoots about without my knowledge. I returned home from target (of course) to a decorated apartment, loads of tears, and a hug so loving only your best friend could be the one giving it to you.

We played games, drank, ate, and stressed (something somewhat new to me, at least on my birthday) about the weekend’s plans ahead of us.

What was supposed to be a big night out, ended with me too drunk to finish a single drink at the bar. An impromptu house party and some drugs of choice (as well as the now famous Mom’s Whiteclaw—a combination of vodka and whiteclaw) saw me panicking in the bar bathroom and pulling an Irish exit. Feeling overwhelmed by social obligations, as well as celebrations where I am the center of attention, was new to me—I’d always loved it. But with the start of a new decade of my life, and the new chapter that came along with it, I realized that perhaps this wasn’t the person I was anymore, and instead of making myself feel guilty about it, I should perhaps try and embrace it, and learn from my experience instead.

This was the first of many changes within me that occurred in 2019.

Like, for example, when I fell out of love with eyeliner. Silly as it may sound, my densely winged look had become my signature style for so many years and suddenly it had started to feel more like a costume than a form of honest self-expression. Then it was my hair, my style—an identity crisis in the finest of forms—and still, at the close of this year I find myself uncertain of where I define myself stylistically—a minor problem, all things considered—but the uncertainty that comes along with it makes me lack my sense of direction, my sense of self, and my sense of expression. How can I still not know who I am, and who I want to be? How can it be possible to wake up one day, and suddenly feel so entirely disconnected to yourself, and the life you have so carefully curated for yourself—so separate from your desires, aspirations, and goals? What happens to a person that causes this change to occur so seamlessly? And do we all experience it? How are we supposed to find the time to cope?

I felt plagued by this question and still do. Just because a year ends, doesn’t mean everything has a specific ending. Correct punctation. Symmetrical narrative. Cohesive closure.

So it goes.

Spring came and along with it, Taylor’s first trip to Europe: Germany, Austria, and the Czech Republic. We drank beer, ate sweets, and visited some of the finest bars Europe has to offer (seriously—Prague has the best nightlife ever. I cannot wait to return and be haunted again by a glorious bartender who changes into the get up of a tarot card-bearing alchemist when a certain drink is ordered).

Our feet hurt and our jetlagged worsened but we were both eager with wanderlust, drunk on the idea that the interview Taylor had had the day before we left might just be the final one he went on, the ending to our nearly year-length long-distance woes, and the start of a new future together residing in the same city again, the stress of visitation no longer so troubling.

Turns out, it was.

A few weeks later, I took a trip to Maui on a whim. I spent the weekend at the beach, eating pineapples and drinking craft beer. I saw the oldest tree in the nation and felt deeply rooted in this new person I was becoming—am becoming—and felt inspired by her many offspring and how they’d all taken root themselves, baring their own identities, spawning off of one nucleus, off one single stump. I felt I was beginning to spawn, myself, and felt comforted in the seemingless infinite possibilities I would have to re-root, myself, in my own lifetime.

May came and I watched as my Kristopher turned thirty, his own new journey beginning, and celebrated sweetly amongst friends in his new apartment in Denver.

Taylor and I flew to Sweden on a whim—through London, of course—and spent an entire week with the flu falling in love with Stockholm… even though over-the-counter cold medicines are illegal country-wide. Taurus season being what it is, we argued, didn’t sleep, and flew home feeling worse than we had when we arrived. But, despite all that it didn’t spoil our trip. Instead it made us both realize that there are things worth fighting for in life, and that our relationship was one of them—we truly fought for it on that trip, and we both threw punches only to immediately tend to each others wounds, embarrassed we’d been so bold as to injure one another in the first place. I felt a sense of peace in this discovery; a sense of honesty that isn’t always pleasant but is, regardless, helpful.

It’s also worth noting that I ate the best veggie lasagna ever created and drank loads of loads of Meade—seriously—Sweden is the fucking coolest.

Summer came and went, and with the temperature hardly rising above eighty degrees in the city, I felt relieved. I helped Taylor move cross-country over the weekend of the Fourth of July and felt both excited and scared about our new adventure in the same city—hoping he’d love it but allowing him room to adjust and make his own judgements, without my influence.

We decorated his apartment, dealt with a lot of issues that come along with settling into a new city, and still we managed to grow stronger.

And then the wedding chaos began.

I planned a bachelorette trip for my sister in Nashville, and as her maid of honor, the stress was real. We planned surprises, arranged flights and travel plans, and found an Airbnb large enough to play home for all of us. I was dreading the trip until it actually came. We spent four days having fun, celebrating love, and listening to lots of emo music. I was incredibly proud of my sister, and excited for her marital bliss to final arrive that she has waited so long for.

Before I could even process it all, the wedding weekend came, and I watched as my sister took the hand of the man who is now my brother. I have never seen a bride more beautiful or had a celebration more perfect. But windy. Oh boy, was it windy.

Riot fest approached, and with it, Taylor and I’s one-year anniversary. In many ways, it was our year and a half anniversary, but that’s a story for another time. We started a tradition of finding gifts for each other at the Renegade craft fair and then ate our weight in Indian food on what was a particularly cool day in September.

October came, and with it the promise of a long-awaited trip to South Korea. What I initially called “Taylor’s pick” (as a form of explanation, when people asked why we were going there) quickly became one of my favorite places I’ve ever been to. We spent eight days learning the culture, seeing the immensely large city, revisiting the tragic history and eating the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten, day in and day out. I seriously cannot express how much I loved Seoul so simply; it was an experience I will cherish for the rest of my life. We visited the border of North Korea and felt the tragedy of a country at war firsthand and then visited the beautiful rural island of Nami and reveled in the fiery, changing, vibrant fall leaves. We played with meerkats and cooked our own barbeque and visited the birth site of the infamous Gangnam style. I drank a sweet potato latte and ate snow cheese. I cried as we spent our final morning walking Namdemoon market, feeling that a great change had come along with that experience, and that I’d never quite get that specific feeling back again.

My birthday was revisited again, in the form of receiving my present: two tickets to see Harry Potter and the Cursed Child on Broadway in NYC. Taylor had got us first row balcony seats for the two-part play, and we spent an entire weekend running around (picture me showing him all of the settings of scenes from Catcher in the Rye—it was his first time in the city!) and crying during what was a breathtaking, phenomenal stage production. We ate chocolate frogs and drank wine and I felt truly in love with man sitting beside me, who was generous enough to make one of my dreams come true just to see me smile.

In November, we traveled to Brussels (I know—so many trips this year—I’m tired just typing about them all) to see Vampire Weekend and explore. We ended up drinking our way through the city, eating chocolate, meatballs and waffles everywhere we went. We discovered our new favorite beer—a kriek—and drank more of it than we did water for an entire weekend. I felt young on this trip, and though tired, excited for the busy weeks that lay just ahead of us.

Thanksgiving came so fast, it hardly felt real. And then, like clockwork, Christmas arrived. Time at home is always so relaxing, but also so stressful—old toxicities arise and are hard to combat in the moment. I guess part of growing is also realizing that facing these problems head on may not be pleasant, but is ultimately best for both your mental health and the experience of those around you, and that some demons never go away but instead just become tamed in the back of our minds, and we need to accept that.

I watched as Nicole, my Nicole, turned thirty and simultaneously dealt with some particularly hard times. It can be so hard to want to keep our friends safe in our arms, away from the rest of the world and its harms, without realizing that we each have to face certain things alone and experience the growth that that process allows. Adulthood really is tragic, and I want to be—you guessed it—the catcher in the rye, saving all my friends from succumbing to it, falling of the ledge of adolescence, and all the woes adulthood brings along with it.

So here we are, on January 8th, and I’ve finally found the time to draw this to a close. At the end of this particular year, it’s hard not to only reflect on the 365 days passed, but at the decade as a whole. In 2009, I was a horribly depressed twenty-year-old who suffered from terrible insomnia and a heartache I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover from. The past decade has seen me both drop out of and return to college and then get into grad school. I have watched so many around me fall in love, get married and even have children, and even more break up, fall apart and divide themselves. I moved to Chicago and began flying, and though I’m tired of it now, I can truly say the experience of it all changed my life and who I am entirely. I traveled to over twenty countries, some even by myself. I fell in love—three times, to be exact. One is now married, one lives over 4,000 miles away, and one is sleeping next to me, forever snoring his way into my heart and wherever the future may take it. I struggled to deal with who I was, who I had been, and who I was becoming. I grew. I grew so much, sometimes I’m not sure I would even recognize the former version of myself, though I’ve left her pressed between the pages of certain books, in certain countries, to be forever immortalized in her own glory over time—even if that specific glory is no longer my own.

2020 has started rough—a long week of work, and six days in, a mental break down that took a fistful of medication and a bucket full of tears to properly silence. In twelve days, the first chunk of my novel has to be written, and in all honesty, I’m struggling. By the end of March, half of it will be complete, and come August, I will not only have my MFA, but the manuscript to a novel in my possession. If this doesn’t produce anxiety in you than I’m not sure what will—we’re talking 80k+ words in eight short months... but I’m trying to focus on a daily word count, and see what I can accomplish on a smaller scale, rather than get swept away by the big, looming picture as I did just a few days ago.

This year I will visit Israel and Egypt—and who knows where even else—I haven’t had the time to think about it. I will fly my eighth year, and hopefully be able to hang my wings in retirement at the close of it.

In a few short weeks, I will be 31 and I will struggle to accept that fact. Where does time go? Why does it seem to go by so fast anymore—and will it ever slow down? I’m looking forward to a more relaxing year but know that I’m lying to myself in even simply hoping for it. I will feel lost, defeated, and at times, hopeless. And I need to be okay with that.

I know one thing for sure, and it is this: I will write. This year, I will write so much, it actually terrifies me. But that’s what life is all about, and what I want to conquer more of in my thirties: my fears. I will cry, and sing, and fight, and fuck and be tired as I do it all, surely. I will explore, I will stay in, and I may even get a taste of some of that sweet, sweet, legal marijuana Chicago now offers.

I look forward to a year full of uncertainties, and I look forward to looking back on it in a short amount of time and seeing how much I’ve grown from where I currently am now.

Happy New Year, friends—and remember—just because a year has a specific expiration, we don’t have to align our hopes and aspirations along with it. Grow for yourself, and bloom when you can. Who cares if it’s in the middle of winter, or the first week of June. Symmetry isn’t natures strong suit, and we should stop forcing our expectations to line up with a silly calendar. Live how you want to live for you, and the rest is just decoration. This is my resolution for the new year—not to set expectations—and to instead let each chapter unfold naturally, to let each page feel crisp and unread under my eager, oily fingertips. Cheers.

[c00lmint8123-blog]

Hiking in Spain

David Brodosi

If you’re looking for a top choice for a hiking and trekking holiday, you can’t do better than Spain, with its varied landscapes, many mountain ranges, coastal routes, and well-marked trails. From the famous Camino de Santiago to the Picos de Europa National Park and the Vías Verdes, covering old disused railway lines across the country, there’s something for everyone.

Ruta del Cares, Picos de Europa

One of the most popular and most beautiful routes in the Picos de Europa National Park, the Ruta del Cares runs for approximately 12 kilometers, from Poncebos in Asturias to Caín in León. Known as ‘The Divine Gorge’, the trail is carved out of the side of the rocks and traverses bridges and streams.

David Brodosi

Ruta del Cares©GabrielGonzález https://www.flickr.com/photos/gaby1/27417146834

Peñalara

One of the best places for hiking near the capital of Madrid, the Peñalaralies in the Sierra de Guadarrama, near to the province of Guadalajara. The hike takes around 3 1/2 hours for a roundtrip, and the route takes you through the Parque Natural de Peñalara, where you can spot many different types of reptiles.

Camino de Santiago

The most famous Spanish walking route is of Course the Camino de Santiago, also known as The Way of St. James. A series of ancient pilgrim routes, the trail starts in few different places along the French border and ends up at Cathedral of Santiago de Compostela in Galicia. One of the oldest routes starts at the town of Ovideo in Asturias, but the most popular trail starts at Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port, just across into France. There is also another path, the Cami Catala, which starts at Montserrat monastery, or in Barcelona, and joins up with the Camino de Santiago to finish up at the in the same place.

Cumbre Vieja, La Palma

The Cumbre Vieja is a volcanic ridge located on the island of La Palma, part of the Canary Islands. Running from north to south, it is approximately 150 kilometers and would take around eight to ten days to complete. If you don’t want to walk the whole thing however, you could opt between two shorter walks – the Ruta de la Cresteria, around the rim of the Caldeira de Taburiente – a collapsed volcano, or the Route of the Volcanoes in the south of island, snaking its way around ancient craters and Martian-like volcanic landscapes.

Caminito del Rey, Malaga

Once named one of the most dangerous hikes in the world, because of its missing sections of pathway and sheer cliffside drops, the Caminito del Rey is located in the region of Malaga. The route was closed for many years due to safety issues, however extensive renovations took place and it reopened again at the start of 2015. Today, the path has been repaired, handrails have been added, as well as bridges and stairs, to create a spectacular, but safe experience. The trail is approximately 7.7 kilometers long and takes around four hours to complete.

David Brodosi

Spain provides some of the best hiking trails in the world with its varied landscapes, mountain ranges and well-maintained trails.

Whether you are a highly skilled hiker or just looking for a new experience, there is definitely a beautiful trail to be experienced in Spain.

For the best hikes in Europe, including France, Germany, Swiss Alps and Italy see our detailed article.

Here is a list of the best hiking trails in Spain.

David Brodosi

5 Epic Hiking Trails In Spain

Camino de Santiago Trail

Camino de Santiago is arguably the most famous Spanish walking route, it is about 500 miles long. It is a series of ancient pilgrim routes that have been in use for a thousand years or more.

It starts in a few different places along the French border and all the routes end at Cathedral de Santiago de Compostela in Galicia. The most popular trail starts at Saint-Jean-Pied-de-Port.

The trails are flat and easy with many of the tracks being paved and well-maintained. The main routes require very little technical walking so you do not need a lot of hiking experience.

David Brodosi

The routes are also well-marked, so you don’t have to worry about getting lost.

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David Brodosi

Barcelona on a Backpacking Budget

Barcelona, The City of Gaudi. Deeply steeped in history, seemingly every nook and cranny of this city has a story to tell. Barcelona is busy, beautiful and expensive. And yet, you can still visit Barcelona on a backpacking budget.

From its Gothic Quarter to the sparkling structures of the modern waterfront, from the works of the genius architect Antoni Guadi to the boisterous atmosphere of Las Ramblas, Barcelona offers days, weeks, and months of adventure and exploration. We have never visited a city quite like it, and Barcelona ranks among out favorite European cities.

Not everything is all sunshine and roses, however. Barcelona is suffering from being TOO popular, and that has led to soaring prices, congested tourist areas, and some ill will from locals to visitors (read more about Barcelona’s problems with tourism here).

So, to get the most out of your backpacking budget, we recommend that you visit Barcelona during its off-peak season. We recommend April through early May, or the middle of September till the end of October. The weather should be good during these months, and the crowds greatly reduced. Visiting during these time periods, or even in the unattractive (weather wise) winter months will greatly reduce your costs, and allow you to experience Barcelona on a backpacking budget.

David Brodosi

Conversely, if you decide to go to Barcelona in the summer be prepared to pay premium prices on just about everything related to tourism. Your costs will spike in the summer as opposed to off season, and you’ll have a hard time visiting Barcelona on a budget.

Either way, off-season or peak season, make sure you get out of the city itself for a few days to explore the beauty of Catalonia. Here are a few great day trips from Barcelona that everyone visiting should really consider taking. Not only will these trips allow you to explore some of the incredible country-side, but by taking one or a few of them you will be helping to alleviate some of the tourist congestion in BCN.

Also, be sure to check out our article on the Top Ten Things to Do on a Budget in Barcelona, Spain.

David Brodosi

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[kdhvjhg-blog]

One of the perks of moving to a new city, especially if it’s abroad, is the fact that we always pay more attention to our surroundings, to every detail the regular resident overlooks. That’s exactly what has happened to me during the last two and a half months, since I started living in the dream come true of Romantic authors, the city is almost from the pages of a fairytale: Heidelberg.

A regular tourist spends here no more than 2-3 days, enough to visit a city of 150,000 inhabitants, but as a result of my several encounters with vacationers here, I realized many of them did not get to experience part of what makes Heidelberg unique. If you are about to visit the city, or are thinking of returning, then this is your perfect city guide.

The very first and most remarkable landmark any visitor with a pair of eyes on their face gets to see is, of course, the Heidelberg Castle  or “Heidelberger Schloss” in German. It doesn’t matter whether you are a regular tourist or an adventurous backpacker, this is a must-see. It is not without reason that this year it ranks as the 2nd most popular tourist attraction in Germany according to the German National Tourism Board. However, it is not only the castle which grabs your attention. A common mistake made by tourists is going back to the city as soon as walk out the gates, but if you decide to turn left instead, your steps will lead you to the castle gardens, which at the time they were built were regarded by contemporaries as the eighth wonder of the world.

You should walk to the very end of the gardens and then turn left, to the long terrace. If by chance you visited the city during the last few months, you will have come across a metallic structure half blocking the combined view of the Castle, the city, the Old Bridge, and the valley. But from about one week ago, this structure is no longer there, now the terrace invites the visitor to admire a sight that leaves no doubts as to why Heidelberg inspired dozens of writers and poets in their artworks.Do not miss on your way back the Ginkgo tree, a unique and oriental tree planted in this garden in honor of a poem by Goethe. When admiring, do check where you are standing: stepping on one of its fruits will result in an unbearable stink getting stuck to your shoe.

When coming back to the old part of the city or Altstadt (do not take the funicular, it’s expensive and the views are not worth it), no matter what route you take, you will run into several majestic building crowned by various flags with an architecture completely in line with the style of the Castle. Most of these buildings actually belong to fraternities, which as a result of being home to the oldest University in Germany, are numerous in Heidelberg, and it has to be mentioned, not very much loved.One of the most remarkable sights of Heidelberg can also be found right on the other side of the river: the Philosophenweg or philosophers’ way, named like that originally by the university students as a result of the romantic and inspirational atmosphere floating all around it. Less crowded than the castle, the philosopher’s way is a perfect spot to stop by, take a beer and admire the scenery right from the other side of the city, especially at night, when the tourists are gone and only a few locals remain there.When it comes to the Altstadt, you should invest at least one hour to stroll through its picturesque streets filled with Baroque style buildings, going for a walk to the river, and of course crossing the Old Bridge or “Alte Brücke”. If you follow the street where the bridge ends back to the city, after a few meters on your left-hand side you will find a bar called Vetter. This tavern homes the once strongest beer in the world according to the Guinness book of World Records, at 33% of alcohol, and brews some of the best beers to be found in the city.

Last but by no means least, if you decide to go out at night the street one should head to is undoubtedly Untere Straße, where -even if Heidelberg is not the most active city in terms to parties- open pubs will be found every night. In case of any indecision, you should go to Destille, an alternatively decorated pub with music ranging from classical rock to modern indie, and if you are fond of beers (how could one not feel so in Germany?), do not forget to ask for their Kellerbier or “unfiltered beer”.

The post Mini Guide To Heidelberg: What To Do appeared first on Thinking Nomads Travel Blog.

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Why San Francisco's sour dough tastes so good

New Post has been published on https://nexcraft.co/why-san-franciscos-sour-dough-tastes-so-good/

Why San Francisco's sour dough tastes so good

It’s easy to get a rise out of a local TV news crew. Especially in a slo-mo state capital like California’s. So it was on September 6, 2007, when KCRA’s LiveCopter 3 hovered over a Sacramento parking lot, at 8:23 a.m., beaming images of a slow-­moving red van, tailed by a black-and-white police cruiser. As soon as the van pulled over, a man in a white baker’s cap popped out. Instead of making a run for it, which is how you expect these things to play out, he labored up to a reporter’s microphone, arms weighed down by bread dough. “It’s about 40 pounds,” he said. A crowd of bystanders cheered.

The Boudin Bakery in San Francisco, the city’s oldest and one of the best-known purveyors of its famous sourdough bread, was delivering a key piece of its history to its newest outpost. Since 1849, the bakery has relied on a bacteria-and-yeast-rich “starter”—a small amount of dough that bakers regularly “feed” by adding flour and water—to breed the living organisms that make the bread rise and give sourdough its tang. Properly cared for, a starter can birth bil­lions of chewy loaves across decades and even centuries.

The predominant bacteria in sourdough is called Lactobacillus sanfranciscensis. It’s a species that produces lactic and acetic acids, which give sourdough its distinctive and nominal flavor. For decades, foodies believed, as did Boudin’s bakers and others, that the city’s fog and temperate climate helped foster these microorganisms. As it turns out, they may come from insects.

In July 2017, baker Ian Lowe responded to a bit of news that revealed an unusual connection between bugs and bread, and that had attracted his community of sourdough devotees: “It’s time bug shit got its due,” he told his more than 28,000 Instagram followers.

Each year, some 50 or so bakers from around the world visit Lowe at his Apiece bakery in Launceston, Tasmania, to study his sourdough-baking techniques. Lowe—who has read extensively in plant breeding, microbiology, milling science, and oven thermodynamics, and taught himself basic chemistry, biochemistry, and molecular biology, to better understand the microbiome of his favorite food—posts his exacting recipes in a public Dropbox file for all to share. That week in July, Lowe had read a newly published microbiology paper that showed, more than 40 years after scientists identified L. sanfranciscensis in sourdough, that the bacteria live inside insects that inhabit wheat fields and grain storehouses. It makes sense that bacteria that can thrive in the fermenting plant material “would be something that’s part of the ecology of the grain,” Lowe says. They must all share regional origins and thrive in a temperate range—between 65 and 80 degrees Fahrenheit. Although as a nonscientist Lowe had no way to prove it, his studies and his life’s work had led him to reason that the insects’ guts must be perfect vectors for the necessary microorganisms of fermentation.

These insects have been eating the grain humans put aside for millennia. Now it seems they may have played a culinary role in feeding our ancestors. Thousands of years ago, Neolithic cultures planted fields of wild wheat, such as einkorn and emmer, then crushed their grains and mixed them into water to make a porridge. Some baked it on hot stones as flatbread. No one knows where it happened, but around 6,000 years ago, a careless cook must have left porridge out overnight and noticed the next day that it had bubbled up. Fermentation! Stuck in an oven, it plumped and produced what we now know as chewy, aromatic, and life-sustaining bread.

Who knows if this Ur-bread was sourdough, but eventually that genus of daily carb spread through the Middle East and Europe, becoming a nutritious staple for much of Western civilization. The process was simple. Start with flour and water. Let it ferment for a few days, regularly adding more flour and water and keeping the mixture warm enough to allow the wild yeasts and lactobacilli on the grain to do their job—bubbling with gas and thickening. Then add a chunk of this starter to a dough of more flour and water, let it sit for several hours, then pop it in the oven and bake to goodness.

RELATED: How to make a sourdough starter—and keep it alive

No one could actually account for the mysterious internal reactions of starter until the mid-19th century, when Louis Pasteur determined that yeast was a microscopic living chemist that turned sugar into alcohol and gas. That soon led to the invention of concentrated baker’s yeast, which trimmed the labor-intensive bread-making process from days to mere hours. It also yielded a monoculture fermentation of dough, with less biochemical and nutrient diversity. That ushered in the flavorless, mass-­produced product that sits on supermarket shelves today, full of dozens of multisyllabic thickeners and additives. In Europe, Old World bread-making practices, which require specialized skill and patience, endured even amid the onslaught of the quick-fix, packaged stuff. But starting around the 1990s, the artisanal movement in the United States saw chefs rejecting baker’s yeast and commencing an obsession with sourdough and the live starter required to make it.

Even so, among bakers and researchers who study food, “the origin of sourdough microorganisms is somewhat of a mystery,” says Anne Madden, a postdoctoral researcher at North Carolina State University who calls herself a microbial strategist. Madden and her supervisor, ecologist Rob Dunn, are part of a global yet small club of researchers trying to solve the mystery. Their Sourdough Project has collected more than 550 specimens of live starter from around the world—some of them handed down through generations—in an attempt to catalog the microorganisms that populate them.

The first to try to crack the mystery of San Francisco sourdough were T. Frank Sugihara and Leo Kline, a pair of microbiologists working in the Bay Area in the 1970s for the U.S. Department of Agriculture. At the time, bakers swore that no one in the country could reproduce the tangy food more than 50 miles away from the city, and that starters transplanted to other places would rise but usually lose their sour flavor. In their landmark studies, the pair found that yeast and a bacteria that would later be dubbed Lactobacillus sanfranciscensis, after the city known for sourdough, worked together to make dough rise and taste good.

A sourdough starter is an ecology primed for these two complementary players, with lactobacilli outnumbering yeast 100 to 1. Enzymes inside the flour break starch into the malt sugar known as maltose. But sourdough yeast cannot metabolize maltose. It snacks on other sugars in the dough instead, cutting them down to make simpler variants such as fructose and glucose, and porting them into the fermentation pathways that extract energy. When they’re done, what’s left over is a tiny scrap of ethanol and the carbon dioxide that puts rise in your dough. Meanwhile, lactobacilli chow down on the maltose and release flavorful acids as waste.

In sourdough, yeast and lactobacilli work as a team. But nobody knew where lactobacilli came from. Bakers didn’t add the stuff, and other foods that used the same ingredients lacked its distinctive flavor element. Scientists began looking for and finding it in starter doughs in Germany, France, and Italy—all places with a rich sourdough history. Many people, including microbiologists, believed it came from bakers’ hands. But Claudia Picozzi, an assistant professor at the University of Milan, was working on an alternative idea.

Up to that point, says Picozzi, “no one was able to detect the microorganisms in the grain or flours” used for making sourdough. Then one of her colleagues thought of insects. Or, rather, their guts. “Several lactic-acid bacteria and yeasts have intestinal origin,” says Picozzi, explaining her thinking. “And since many insects live on cereal grains and infest flours for baked products, we thought we probably could trace the origin.”

So she and some colleagues set about scooping the poop of several species (among them the charmingly named confused flour beetle) that infest grain and flour stores. After sequencing the DNA inside the pests’ poop, they published their findings in the Journal of Applied Microbiology with the helpful title: “Insect frass in stored cereal products as a potential source of Lactobacillus sanfranciscensis for sourdough ecosystem.” It turns out, there’s lots of bacteria in bug poo. The researchers found more than 130 species. Lactobacilli made up only 0.36 percent of that total. But the most common was Lactobacillus sanfranciscensis.

RELATED VIDEO:

So why did a minor player in the insect gut dominate in dough? One reason for its success, says Francisco Migoya, head chef at Modernist Cuisine, the science-of-cooking lab in Bellevue, Washington, is ecological. “It is basically creating a poison, so the other bacteria are going to die,” says Migoya, who co-authored the five-volume Modernist Bread: The Art and Science. By changing the environment it lives in, Lactobacillus sanfranciscensis outcompetes its neighbors and, as a result, it influences sourdough’s flavor.

Studies like Picozzi’s don’t just solve nerdy baking trivia questions. They also offer real-world applications to both artisanal and industrial bread-​­making. “Such knowledge can help us design breads with better flavors and ones that are healthier for us,” says NCSU microbiologist Anne Madden. One of her projects examines the microbes that partner with insects such as wasps and bumblebees. She and her colleagues have found new yeasts on these winged field inhabitants that she hopes “can make breads with useful traits.”

Madden’s mentor, Rob Dunn, who runs an ecology lab at the university, says bugs are likely not the whole story. Further DNA analyses might turn up other cooks in the microbial kitchen. “The story has many pieces,” he says, “one of which might be insects, but so too the body of the baker, the air of the bakery, the grain in the field, the microbes in the soil.”

So, as we learn to control the variable, we learn to control the product. The more we master the ingredients, the more deliberate we can be in creating new kinds of baked goods. But until we know more, be sure to thank your tiny chefs: the bugs.

Written By Charlotte Druckman, Kevin Gray

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New Post has been published on https://www.retireearlyandtravel.com/germany/

Dusseldorf Germany 7 Things You Will Enjoy When You Visit

Dusseldorf Germany is an international city for shopping, dining, and art. Everyone wants to “see and be seen” on the chic shopping street Königsallee. In the restaurants of Dusseldorf, you will discover contemporary culinary trends and exquisite tastes both local and international. The art and museum scene rivals many higher-profile cities. Dusseldorf on the banks of the Rhine River in western Germany is a contemporary, lively, and often missed destination.

We had the pleasure of visiting Dusseldorf, Germany recently. We found Dusseldorf colorful, creative, casual yet elegant and above all friendly. With these many different faces, it is easy to understand why Dusseldorf is known as the Pearl of the Rhine. Here are seven things you should include on your list of things to do when you visit.

Do Window or Real Shopping on Konigsalle Boulevard

Along Königsallee or “Kö” as the locals call it, classy boutique and famous high-end brands line the street. Kö has a sophisticated feel and is the main reason Dusseldorf is considered an elegant city. Celebrities to the wealthiest people in the world come to Dusseldorf to shop so you never know who you may see while strolling along the Kö. With its chestnut tree border, it is one of the city’s prettiest streets. The Ko is a place where you still dress to shop. We recommend you dress the part if you plan on doing some shopping here.

Stroll the Ko-Bogen

In keeping with the shopping theme, we recommend a stroll through the Ko-Bogen. It’s a mall so to speak filled with premium, luxury, and lifestyle shopping and dining in lively quarters. After WWII, Dusseldorf had to do a lot of rebuilding. They decided they wanted to go modern. Designed by New York architects, the Ko-Bogen is an ultra-modern two-part building ensemble filled with premium flagship stores, international brands, unique boutiques as well as cafés and restaurants. While you are there, take a walk around the outside. If you are inspired by architectural beauty, you will love the Ko-Bogen.

Take a Guided Walking Tour of Old Town

Now that you have your shopping done, it is time to tour old town or Altstadt Dusseldorf. As you walk the historic city center, you will see beautiful churches, and in contrast the worlds longest bar. That is right, more than 260 pubs line up in what is known as the longest bar in the world. As you tour the old town, you will see many cartwheelers and hear the legend of why they are so famous in Dusseldorf. You will see them on manhole covers, in souvenir shops, and fountains.

If you like history, Dusseldorf’s old town has intact air raid shelters that you can visit. Our guide took us to one of these shelters. Going underground in one of these shelters is a fascinating yet uneasy experience. Heavily bombed during WWII, Dusseldorf shelters gave protection to some people. But, as you think about living in Dusseldorf during the war, it must have been very difficult times. The shelters could not house everyone, and even if the shelters could, not everyone could make it to a shelter before the air strikes started.

It was an eerie experience to see the shelter’s capacity written on the wall. For the safety of those inside more people could not be added. There was a hand crank ventilation system. A person would turn the crank, and the system would bring in, hopefully, fresh air. I am sure that was not always the case. Air strikes took place round-the-clock for seven weeks at a time. The air strikes created many fires. An estimated 540,000 Dusseldorfian’s lost their lives in WWII

Back in the day, the sculptor on the front of this building was down at street level. The man’s face, of this facade, made of an arrangement of nude women designed by an artist to be beautiful came under scrutiny. You will see if you look closely. The cities townspeople at the time thought the artist’s work was too risqué. So, the town moved the man’s face up higher on the building. Today it is just a conversation piece.

Calsplatz

Another place that is a must when visiting Dusseldorf, especially if you are a foodie, is Carlsplatz. Carlsplatz used to be a farmers market, but as the city grew in culture and prestige, the farmers market became a foodie’s and gourmet’s paradise. Occupying an entire square in Düsseldorf’s old town, Carlsplatz is where you can buy fresh fruits, vegetables, cheeses, pastries, breads and more. It also has an area that is similar to food trucks in the US with stalls or stands selling their unique dishes. One place will sell bratwursts, another crepes, and another soups. Like some food trucks, you take your food to a picnic table and dig in! Our guide told us she meets friends here often. One friend will have ravioli while another has a flatbread and still another has a salad.

While in Carlsplatz Do Some Wine Tasting

After you have had a scrumptious lunch, what could be better than some wine? Keith and I have a second passion after travel, and it is wine. Concept Reisling is a great place in Carlsplatz to do a white wine tasting. We met with Bjorn, the sommelier. He enthusiastically shared his passion and dream of wine with us. Concept Reisling’s stand is a wine shop and a wine bar, which means you can shop for home or enjoy some great wine while you are there.

They do sell reds but they are known for their whites, so we tried whites. Each tasting was better than the last. Since this wine bar is outside, we asked Bjorn if they have much business in the winter and he said yes. He said that between the radiant heaters, the wine and the warmth of the crew at Concept Reisling anyone could overcome the cold. They focus on more mature vintages, rare rarities, and young talents. We were able to tour their wine cellar. We had no idea that some whites are actually better aged and that they could be so expensive!

Eat At Dusseldorf’s Oldest Restaurant

Located in the Old Town, the restaurant/brewery “Zum Schiffchen“ is the oldest restaurant in Düsseldorf. They serve local cuisine and traditional German comfort food. This restaurant has existed since before 1628. And, Napolean was a patron of Zum Schiffchen. Originally this restaurant was an inn and brewery outside the city walls. All of the food is reasonably priced and tasted fantastic.

Visit the Baroque Benrath Palace

Benrath Palace built as a summer residence and hunting lodge for the Elector Carl Theodor over 200 years ago. It is close to the Rhine in the south of Düsseldorf and today is slated for a UNESCO World Heritage Site designation. The Elector envisioned this palace for his wife, Elizabeth Auguste, perhaps that is why it is pink. Every room inside the palace has a matching garden area on the grounds. Legend has it that Elizabeth may have only visited the palace once and never stayed the night. Karl Theodor, on the other hand, came to relax and use the palace as a hunting lodge a few times. The palace was left in the care of servants most of the time. The Palace has a 60-hectare, immaculately maintained formal garden.

Today, Benrath Palace is divided into two museums. The Museum of European Garden Art in the east wing and the Museum of Natural History in the west wing. In these museums, you will enjoy sculptures, artwork, paintings, and other artifacts from the 18th century. The inside décor of the palace with its furniture, porcelain, and paintings will provide an impression of court life in the second half of the 18th century.

Breidenbacher Hof, a Capella Hotel

For the best experience, while in Dusseldorf, we recommend staying at Breidenbacher Hof, a capella hotel. If you are not familiar with Capella hotels, let me explain. Capella Hotels are ultra-luxurious hotels, with a residential concept, designed for the most discerning travelers and offering personalized attention. Capella Hotels is not just a stay but an experience for curious travelers. Their hotels blend nature, history and the finest attention to detail to delight the senses.

At the Breidenbacher Hof every employee is there to provide each guest with the highest level of personalized service that is both unique and memorable. Located in the heart of Düsseldorf’s vibrant downtown, Breidenbacher Hof has the perfect location to enjoy the city’s cultural sights.

Our inviting, elegant, and exquisitely-finished room felt more like a chic urban flat than a hotel room. Breakfasts in Breidenbacher Hof’s renowned Brasserie “1806” had fantastic views over Düsseldorf’s Old Town. After a day of touring, we enjoyed having a drink and talking about our day in the Capella Bar. As our stay came to an end, we hated to leave.

Dusseldorf Germany Past and Present

Dusseldorf suffered greatly during WWII. However, Dusseldorf today is a forward-thinking modern city determined not to be defined by its past. Dusseldorf has a very clean, new and modern metro line. There is a flurry of cultural programs everywhere you look. Dusseldorf tries to make everyday life a richer experience. Take for instance the complementary museum display at the entrance of the new metro line. Dusseldorf will dazzle you with great architecture, international food, and exclusive shopping. It is a vibrant city and bustling with a culture that you don’t want to miss.

Check out our short video summary of Old Town Dusseldorf