Spotted By Locals: Munich

Bavarian Man, via New York Public Library archives.

Dan and I are busy bees today: after spending the last six nights in a hostel, we are packing up and heading out to a new couchsurfing host (well, technically it's the home of a friend of a friend who we originally met thanks to couchsurfing, so the connection makes sense, right? Right!). Expect lots of photos next week of our days here in Wroclaw, but in the meantime, have a look at my latest guest post for my favorite European travel site: Spotted By Locals!

This time I'm reviewing the delicious Bavarian cuisine we encountered in Munich and, of course, sharing more of our experiences at the Oktoberfest. Read it here:

Munich: A First-Timer's Oktoberfest

P.S. How much do you love that photo of the German man in traditional dress? It was taken by photographer Augutus F. Sherman as part of his series called "Ellis Island Portraits" - all of immigrants arriving in the city between 1905 and 1920. The man is Wilhelm Schleich, a miner from Hohenpeissenberg, Bavaria. 

Reasons to Love Dresden

Despite a rather short stay, Dan and I decided that Dresden is definitely the prettiest city we've seen so far in Germany. In terms of worldwide, my top three favorite cities are still Prague, Paris, and New York. (You can't begrudge a girl her hometown, can you?) Here are a few reasons why we loved this city:

Reason 1: Spectacular views. This photo was taken while standing on the Augustusbrücke (Augustus Bridge) which links the old and new parts of the city (Alstadt and Neustadt, respectively). Crossing the bridge by foot takes no time at all, and is well worth it, thanks to the wonderful panoramas on either side of the Elbe River.

Reason 2: It's just so darn pretty. Like a lot of people, I enjoy being charmed by a city, especially when I travel abroad. Dresden is chock-full of unexpectedly lovely scenes: children splashing their hands in enormous fountains, ancient statues tucked into corners, and pretty ponies waiting to take you for a carriage ride (which, to be totally honest, I feel rather ambivalent about: on the one hand, carriage rides are enchanting in a nostalgic sort of way, which the romantic in me loves. . . but on the other, these animals are often mistreated, and how could I ever support that?). Still, it's a city made for photo ops.

Reason 3: Reconstruction. I expected Dresden to be filled with hideous, post-modern, industrial buildings that incorporated gray concrete rather than a sense of real architectural style. (This is partly due to multiple readings of Slaughterhouse 5.) However, more than anywhere else, Dresden seems to have risen from the violent fire-bombings of World War II (and the subsequent rubble) and returned to its original Baroque beauty. The Alstadt (Old Town) is worth an entire afternoon's wanderings.

Reason 4: I saw Escada - yes, the expensive Italian haute-couture brand of international fame - selling dirndls there. In fine silks, no less! Immediately, I wanted one and pressed Dan to go inside, which he wisely declined. Sigh. These where waaay better than the ones we witnessed at the Oktoberfest.

Have you ever been pleasantly surprised by a place?

Where was it?

P.S. If you're in Dresden or plan to visit, check out our favorite café there! It's called Die Buchbar (The Book Bar) and is absolutely filled with cozy corners to curl up in. Along with the standard coffees, teas, and alcoholic beverages, they serve a vegetable soup that will warm your belly AND your soul. Plus, it's more than a little nerd-tastic - a round of Lego chess, anyone? 

Conversation at Midnight

George Washington. Via Cornell University Library archives.

The following is an excerpt from John Fischer's essay "Conversation at Midnight." It appears in the Treasury of American Writers, an anthology of pieces selected from Harper's Magazine (not to be confused with the fashion periodical Harper's Bazaar). The article is an account of an evening Fischer spent with an Austrian friar named Father Florian, who has a few theories on America and its foreign policy:

"The trouble with you Americans . . . " he said.

"Look," I [Fischer] interrupted, ". . . for the last month these people have been telling me what is wrong with Americans, and I am beginning to get the idea. We are a bunch of crude materialists. We've got no culture, no respect for tradition, no sense of history, no ideals, no palate . . ."

"Nonsense," Father Florian said. "It is true that most Europeans believe those legends, but I am going to tell you what is really wrong with America. I traveled back and forth across your country for seven years, making a serious study of the American soul . . . the real trouble is that you are a bunch of dreamy poets. You are besotted with culture. You spend more time and money on it than you can afford. Idealism is a fine thing, but you Americans have carried it too far - to the point where you can no longer bear to face a hard, material fact when you meet one. This is dangerous. You have to learn to be practical, or you will perish.

"Your [foreign] policies - if I may use the word loosely - never seem to mesh. Your President, Vice President, and Secretary of State sometimes issue three contradictory statements on three successive days. Any blabber-mouthed Congressman, general, or Faubus can destroy months of patient diplomatic effort in a single hour, and often does.

"You do have a few competent diplomats . . . but for some reason (which no foreigner can possibly understand) you refuse to use them . . . What you do use is a herd of amateurs . . . You wouldn't dream of asking them to play first base for the Yankees, or to fix your carburetor, or to fill your teeth. For these jobs you insist on professionals. Yet when your survival as a nation is at issue, you call in any stray millionaire who happened to contribute to the right campaign fund."

With considerable difficulty, I [Fischer] managed to interrupt. Only millionaires, I pointed out, could afford to accept appointment to a major Embassy. By ancient tradition the United States does not pay its Foreign Service professionals enough to cover the running costs of such a post.

"Thank you," he [Father Florian] said, "for reminding me of another American habit which has always baffled me. Why are you always unwilling to pay for what you need most? . . . You offer teachers less than truck drivers, and then you wonder why you have 135,000 classroom jobs unfilled. I have even heard . . . that some of your universities will pay more for a football coach than for a physics professor.

"With my own eyes, however, I have seen how you go out of your way to make your scholars feel disreputable. You ridicule them in TV shows and comic strips. Your politicians harass them. Their own pupils treat them with disrespect . . . this is where your impracticality shows up in its most embarrassing form. In other aspects of life you often behave with good sense; if a carpet sweeper or an adding machine breaks down, you get a new one. But when a foreign policy doesn't work, you cling to it all the tighter - out of sheer sentimentality, I suppose."

*     *     *

The United States Treasury Building, circa 1919. Via the Smithsonian Institution archives.

That article appeared in the January 1958 issue of Harper's, and is considerably longer than the paragraphs I've quoted here. Having traveled in Europe for nearly eight months now (not counting my four months of study in France during the fall of 2005), I have, over and over again, heard similar opinions regarding American foreign policy. None were quite so eloquent, and certainly none had ever spent quite as much time in the United States as Father Florian had, but most Europeans are baffled by what occurred during the Bush years, and what continues to occur under Obama. 

From our couchsurfing hosts and from people we meet at performances or even during simple street encounters, I am regularly questioned as to how and why Bush was elected for a second term. Bush is regarded here as something approximating a "tyrant king."* (To wit: in Hamburg, Germany, we learned a game in which the faces and statistics of well-known international dictators were pictured on each card. The only American to make an appearance was George W. Bush.) People seem more favorable to Obama, though when asked to expound upon their position, they are not sure why. They are often surprised when we relate that many of the institutions and regulations set in place during the Bush years are used and supported by the Obama administration (such as indefinite detention, extraordinary rendition, domestic wire tapping, and of course, more widely known ones such as the Patriot Act and Guantanamo Bay). 

Personally, I choose not to share my personal political opinions - on the internet, at least. But I do think that as a writer of a travel blog, these global opinions might be of some interest to readers. I hope that you agree.

Travelers: have you engaged in political discussions while abroad? 

What are some common themes that you've encountered? 

For readers who haven't traveled abroad, do you think the excerpt above is an accurate assessment of American foreign policy? 

*Note: "Tyrant king" are the exact words used by a Belgian citizen we had a political discussion with - as mentioned above, I am choosing not to share my political opinions in this post, which I am regarding more as a simple journalistic reportage of the things I've heard and seen, and not as a forum for my personal viewpoints.

Scenes from Oktoberfest 2011

The official opening of Oktoberfest took place on Saturday, September 17, 2011. Never before have I enjoyed the spectacle of humanity evidencing both the buoyant highs of intoxication and comradeship, and the inevitably cumbrous lows of the comedown. 

Having arrived in Munich a few days prior (and hearing more English spoken on the streets than German), I expected the tents to be bursting at the seams from the hordes of tourists. I was surprised, then, when the opening day seemed populated mostly by actual Bavarians in traditional costume. Many of the lederhosen had obviously seen more than a few Oktoberfests, the leather worn and faded at the seat. The dirndls were colorful, and most seemed freshly pressed. Some people wore "lederhosen" and "dirndls" that were more likely purchased from Halloween shops than actual tailors.

Even before entering the Bavariaring, early casualties were everywhere: mostly young men done in by their own unchecked excitement. The photo immediately below was taken at three o'clock in the afternoon. As the day wore on, men and women of all ages began to rest on the grassy hills that circled the carnival. A few unfortunate ones were dragged away by friends. Some heaved and wretched in front of the crowds. Most stumbled along contentedly, Maß still in hand.

Inside the tents, the atmosphere was positively ebullient, even more carnival-esque than the actual carnival taking place outside. We slipped in through the back of the Hippodrom while unlucky ones clamored by the door, impatient to reach the inside. Nobody seemed to mind. Green wreaths were decorated with Lebkuchenherz - ginger cookies iced in sweet sayings - and had carousel horses dangling from them. 

Six- and eight- and ten-person folk bands played the music that everyone could sing to, and couples whirled together in front of the stage. Waitresses marched by with giant plates of food that would have been equally appropriate at a Viking feast. People ate as if they had just learned how to, with a sort of friendly ravenousness. 

Scenes of passion ranged from the merely amorous to the outrightly licentious, uncontrolled acts of carnality. Two fights broke out, though both were stopped by police or onlookers before either party descended to violence. The toilets were crowded. The sunset and neon crashed and then melted together at the horizon, and their combined light glowed brilliantly against the clouds that never turned to rain.

Lucky Girl

My name is Jessica Kulick and I am smiling at you. 

Here's the thing: I try not to ask for a lot of things in life. That is to say, I prefer not to ask for help, having been raised on the can-do attitude of my Czech grandmother who, as a 14 year-old girl in a new country, supported her entire family during the Great Depression by selling apples from the family's orchard, roadside. Then there's my Spanish grandmother who managed to not only learn a new language in a strange country, but raise four daughters on a seamstress's salary - by herself - when her husband (my grandfather) took ill.

I mean, I'm not comparing myself to them in any way. They are strong and wise in a way that I can only hope to be in fifty years or so. All I'm saying is that I was raised in a tradition of independent women. But I'm not too proud to say that I want - even need - your help: Lucky Magazine is sponsoring a competition (powered by Revlon) in search of a contributor to their new Lifestyle section. I've already made it to the third round out of five, but since it is an American Idol-style competition, I can't count on my hard work alone - I need votes from the public.

The thing is: winning a competition like this could totally change the face of my writing career. Instead of toiling in near-complete obscurity, I could write for a magazine I've loved since I was fifteen years old. 

So, I guess what I'm asking is: will you click the link below, and vote for me?

Entertaining, My Way:
A Classic German Feast

I would really, REALLY appreciate it.
(Voting ends Friday, September 23.)

P.S. Lucky requires that you register by filling out your name and address when you vote for someone. While I can understand that this is certainly a nuisance for some folks, it does help prevent people from just sitting at their computers all day, voting for their buddy or worse, themselves (since it's only one vote per person). It literally only takes a minute (I timed Dan), and they don't send any spammy emails once you've registered/voted. Again, thank you, thank you, thank you.
P.P.S. Voting is only open to residents of the United States. Boo.

A Hawk and A Hacksaw, "The Sparrow"

Have I ever told you that my favorite instrument is . . . wait for it . . . the accordion? Yes, the lowly accordion: that sacred vessel of gypsies, buskers, and sweaty Polish men in holey t-shirts. The truth is that I had an accordion once but was miserable at playing. I took lessons on the Lower East Side from a cranky German fellow who, as a matter of explaining music theory, said things like, "If you take a bite of strawberry shortcake and it tastes like fish, it isn't strawberry shortcake. This is like a waltz." Or, about my failure to match his tempo: "Before you sounded like a dying soldier. Now you are merely schlepping." (How I miss you Walter.)

Anyway, I only relayed that story because Jeremy Barnes is one half of the fantastic band A Hawk and A Hacksaw and an accordionist without parallel, in this blogger's humble opinion. This takeaway concert makes me want to dance naked in gypsy circles in Germany's Black Forest, bells tinkling 'round my ankles and bangles shimmering in the full moon midnight. Tell me you don't feel the same at around 2:26. 

Oh, and I almost completely lost my mind when I saw this video. This miraculous duo with one of my favorite bands of all time? The clip itself is the worst kind of tease (only thirty delicious seconds), so if anyone knows what song they are playing or where an interested party might purchase said song, do tell in the comments below.

Enjoy your weekend. 

Look for me in the tents at Oktoberfest.

I'll be there, and I'll be drinking. PROST!

Small Towns: Neudietendorf

Zinzendorfstraße, Neudietendorf.

While on a nine-hour train ride from Hannover to Stuttgart, Dan and I had the pleasure of seeing the landscape of Germany from the comforts of our carriage. (Nine hours might sound grueling, but it was quite the pleasant experience, especially since I already love train travel and the Deutsch Bahn is always clean and on time - bless the Germans and their efficiency.)

One of the stops was the tiny town of Neudietendorf, population 3,000. Since we were changing trains the stopover lasted just over an hour, giving us time enough to escape the hauptbahnhof (main station) and walk around the village.

It was a beautiful ghost town. We didn't see one living soul in Neudietendorf, which was strange considering we walked for 45 minutes and it was a warm and sunny day. Not a single window was open, and even the 24-hour spätkauf (night shop) was locked, lights off. It was as if every person who lived here had not just gone away for the day, but left without plans for return.

You have to be quiet when you walk through towns like this. Because it's only a matter of passing through.

Traveler's Interview!

Remember this post from our first days in Hamburg, when I mentioned that Dan and I had filmed a travel video with our new friend Steve of Back-Packer.org? Well, the video is finished and it looks fantastic! In it, Dan and I discuss our backgrounds, our travel philosophy, and how travel has affected our lives. At the end, Dan plays "C'est La Vie," one of my favorite songs from the new album (and one that has inspired many a sing-a-long, both at shows and in house concerts!). 

Also, thank you to everyone for being so patient: due to an incredibly full tour schedule (six shows in four cities in seven days!), we have had barely enough time to sleep, let alone answer emails and publish blog posts. So I just wanted to send a huge thank you to my lovely readers - I appreciate that you stick with my little blog even when I miss a day or two. Your kind comments make my heart sing! 

Next up is Munich for Oktoberfest! (Beer also makes my heart sing.) We'll be there from Thursday, September 15 through Wednesday, September 21, so if you want to get down in dirndls and throw back a few (liters) of beer, holla at yer girl. After that, we'll be in Dresden for another show, and then we're off to . . . Poland! If you've been to any or all of those cities, feel free to leave some recommendations below.

Oh, I also wrote a feature article for Matador Network that was published this past Monday! It's about the most common myths I see and hear about N.Y.C. nightlife, and it's already stirring up a bit of debate amongst readers! Have a look here:

5 Myths of N.Y.C. Nightlife - Debunked

The Beatles Platz

Did you know that The Beatles got their start here in Hamburg? Even though I'm a huge fan, I never knew that until we came here. Apparently they were playing in local clubs from 1960-1962, and living in squalid conditions at the Hotel Pacific.

The Beatles-Platz is located at the corner of Große Freiheit and the Reeperbahn. (The Reeperbahn is Hamburg's Red Light District, and while it's not nearly as large or as famous as the one in Amsterdam, it still has quite the reputation. The street the prostitutes work on is cordoned off, and signs are plastered all over the walls warning women not to enter. Should a lady choose to go in despite the warnings, she should expect the cacophonous shrieking of dozens of angry call-girls, and a swift removal by the bouncer. I know; I tried it.)

The Beatles-Platz was opened to the public only three years ago, and of course, enterprising individuals saw its potential as a tourist attraction, so now you can take tours of "the Beatles' Hamburg." Dan and I elected not to do the tour, but we did enjoy posing for a few cheesy photos!

"I don't work at being ordinary." 

Paul McCartney 

(my favorite Beatle)

Like a Local in Hamburg

Sunset in Hamburg's Hafencity.

Here's the thing: sometimes I like to to stop being a tourist. Hell, sometimes it feels good to stop feeling like a traveler, period. At the moment, I'd rather feel like someone who lives here, or at least someone who is not just passing through. This past week in Hamburg, Dan and I have been doing just that: instead of walking around with tour groups, cameras dangling from our necks (which we would never do anyway), we've been enjoying long, leisurely coffee breaks at cafés, moseying through the city center without any special sightseeing destinations in mind, and relaxing over evening drinks at the local watering-hole with our hosts.

We're lucky to have the time to spend here in Germany's second largest city (a total of twelve days). This allows us to actually get to know the city a bit, rather than rushing through as day-trippers often do. I'm not knocking day trips altogether, but I do think that it is nearly impossible to understand a culture this way. So far on this trip, Dan and I have spent nine weeks in Germany - and that's not counting our upcoming journeys to Kiel, Hannover, Stuttgart, and even Munich for Oktoberfest!

It's been incredible to understand Germany (and Europe, in general) from the perspective of locals. When I studied abroad in Aix-en-Provence in 2005, I mostly hung out with my (awesome) roommates who were already close friends from home, and some equally terrific people we met through our program (who are also still great friends that I keep in touch with). We didn't mingle so much with locals, though we had an absurd amount of fun. But this time around? Well, that's all we do!

Maybe I evangelize a bit too much about the "local travel" experience. I certainly wouldn't turn down the chance to stay in a luxury hotel if it was offered to me! But there is truly something to be gained from interacting with the people native to any given place, and it's something I will continue to do throughout my travels abroad, and even at home. Because interaction begets understanding which in turn breeds compassion. And I think we need a little bit more of that in the world, don't you?

Dream Destinations

Valideh Mosque in Istanbul, Turkey c. 1903. Via Brooklyn Museum Archives.

When we set out on this trip back in February, Dan and I knew we wanted to be in Europe for at least a year. We're seven months into this journey now, and while I still adore the café culture of Paris, the incredible nightlife of Berlin, the awesome architecture of Amsterdam, and the beautiful historic centers we've encountered, well, just about everywhere, I find myself dreaming of expanding beyond this continent.

A few days ago, I shared my top ten travel destinations with a friend - sort of a Bucket List, if you will, though I prefer not to call it that since I think it sounds sort of morbid. Here they are, in no particular order:

1. Turkey - Ancient cities such as Istanbul are the major draw for me, but Turkey also has beautiful beaches (which sounds like heaven after the terrible summer we experienced everywhere in Europe this year). Tourism has really picked up here in the last few years, with lots of visitors taking cheap flights to Dalaman to enjoy the Turquoise Coast.

2. Machu Picchu, Peru - Everyone who has visited this place always speaks of it as a spiritual experience. Some have even called it transformative! I tend towards the cynical, but to be honest, I've always been fascinated by this sort of transcendence and wondered if it would ever happen to me. 

3. Argentina - To learn the tango, of course!

4. Thailand - I dream of volunteering at an elephant sanctuary in Thailand. One of the programs I looked at housed their volunteers in tree houses on the river, which I have only one word for: sofreakingcool.

Kinkakuji Garden, Japan. Via Flickr.

5. Japan - Naturally, I'd love to see major cities like Tokyo and Kyoto, but what I'm really interested in are the formal gardens of this country. Dan and I visited the Japanese Garden of Portland, Oregon during a trip there in October 2010, and it was such a beautiful, serene place. I can only imagine how lovely they are in their home country.

6. China - Coming from the United States (where the country's history spans only 235 years), it is amazing to think of a place like China that has continuously existed for thousands of years. I would love the see the traditional New Year parade and the ice city of Harbin.

7. a proper African safari (sans animal-killing, please) - It has to be the most incredible feeling to see the African "Big Five" (that is, the lion, elephant, cape buffalo, leopard, and rhinoceros) in their natural habitat. 

8. a private luxury car on the Trans-Siberian Railway through Russia - Right now it feels like my life epitomizes the phrase "budget travel." While I love couchsurfing and getting to know the locals in each city we visit, it would be such a pleasure to enjoy the extravagant comforts that such an experience allows.

9. an eco-travel adventure through New Zealand 

10. an expedition to Antarctica.

Tell me readers: 

Have you been to any of these places? Which was your favorite? 

And what's on YOUR must-see travel list?

First Days in Hamburg

What a whirlwind of a week! After leaving Berlin on Monday, Dan and I have really thrown ourselves back into the thick of it: couchsurfing with some amazing new people, exploring Germany's second largest city, filming a travel video with Steve of back-packer.org (expect to see the finished product here soon!), and recording a live interview (not an oxymoron, I swear) for Hamburg public radio. You can listen to it here (be warned: everything except for the interview and Dan's music is in German!).

I've also been keeping busy with lots of exciting writing projects - some travel-related, some not. Keep your eyes peeled for a humorous piece on the downsides of New York City nightlife, but in the meantime, I would be delighted and honored if you voted for my article to win the Lucky Magazine fashion and writing contest! I've already made it to the second round (out of five), and I would appreciate your help SO MUCH! Read here:

Day & Night: Alterations for a Seamless Transition

And you know what else? Tomorrow Dan and I will have reached our seven-month travel-versary! That's seven months straight of touring Europe and living out of our suitcases. It's hard to believe we are more than halfway through our trip, though those first weeks in London feel like they happened a million years ago . . .