7/14/2011 - Kishegyes

We visited Pityu-Basci this afternoon. Avid readers of our blog will remember his 75^th birthday from the beginning of the blog (worth a revisit if you haven't read it, this would be the dread "Quince Extract Palinka Affair"). His 80^th birthday was scheduled for Sunday, but they were forced to cancel. He is going to the hospital tomorrow for an indefinite stay. He looks awful, but, as always, is a generous host. None the less, I can't shake the feeling as we leave that we probably won't be visiting with him next year.

*****

Evening in Kishegyes, and we are sitting at Laci-Basci and Erzsi-Neni's house, around a table made from the lid of a baby grand piano, sampling the fruits of our labor from yesterday. The palinka has sat in an open 26-ish gallon bucket overnight to breathe. The sugar and alcohol are then adjusted using a hydrometer and distilled water. Then it is ready for bottles. The final yield was around 70 liters.

As we were sitting there, sampling the product, there was this exchange between Vera and Peter that I found humorous:
    
Vera: "Doesn't it say 'for external use only.'"
    
Peter: "No, it stings when I use it that way."

We also met Sandor this evening. He is the third partner in the palinka empire. He and Z went to elementary school together. He is a very funny guy – at one point dialing up an old classmate that he and Z had in common and handing the phone to her. They only went to school together through kindergarten.

This is one of those evenings where I have had enough palinka that I actually think I speak Hungarian. As a result, further notes in my journal a more than a little illegible – so we'll leave it here for today.

7/13/2011 Kishegyes

We received sad news this morning. The mother of the cleaning lady we met at the police station died of diabetic related causes yesterday. We are keeping our new friend and her family in our thoughts and prayers.

It appears that I will be earning my Moonshining Merit Badge today. Someone has to run the still while Laci is at the funeral. Peter, Z and I have been elected.

I'm sure you're wondering (and if you're not, why not?) how it's all done. Like this – after the fruit has been cut, peeled and pitted, it is put in a big blue, food-grade barrel. It is left uncovered for several days to cook down through natural fermentation. The speed of the fermentation is controlled through the use of sugar. Like beer, it will foam up while this is going on. You will need to leave some space in your barrel for this. The foam is scraped off periodically.

You will be left with a liquid sludge of fermented fruit. After one last "pick through" by hand to clean up the last of the peels and pits, into the still it goes. The still is about 240 liters. It is a large copper tank, with an open fire made of hard wood and corn stalks underneath. There is a crank on the side that rotates paddles inside that stir the sludge. The steam is collected through a pipe and sent to the nearby condenser, a large metal tank with a garden hose rotating inside connected to a small outlet pipe. There you will find a small, match-stick sized stream of "product." The goal is to keep the heat under this still at just the right temperature to keep this flow constant. The final reading on the hydrometer should be in the vicinity of 30.

Peter is reducing 450 pounds of fruit. He'll end up with about 20 liters of palinka. Of course, this is just the apricot stuff.

Apples and pears are in the future. Those need to be coarsely ground before adding to the barrel. Cherries have already run. They only need be pitted before they are ready. The guys are not doing any berry palinka this year, it takes too much fruit. Next up for them will be plums.

My part of the process is to turn the crank on the still every so often, read the numbers on the thermometer (scarily, I seem to have the best eye sight of the crew at the moment), and to suck back a few Jelen Pivos. Yes, on a day like this, I'm prepared to even give Jelen a second chance. Good news! It's (barely) better out of the bottle. Which isn't saying much.

We visited with Emese this evening before going to dinner at Imre and Kati's next door. She told us about the involvement of eight of her school kids in the Hungarian National History Contest. They have 8 months to prepare for the contest. They are given a new task every month based around a central theme. This year, that was the military hero Rákoczy. During the day of competition they will present authentic period costumes, research papers and poster boards, a 5 minute movie, a period dance, compete in a whipping competition, present a gift to the judges – with appropriate speech, and create an authentic Rákoczy Salad. Emese had the only two teams from outside of Hungary.

As an aside – we frequently compare school systems while we are here. Talking shop, if you will. We were explaining that the schools in The 'Couve will shut down for the lightest dusting of snow. Emese informed us the only time they shut schools down around here is when they are bombed by NATO (for real!!). Yeah – that's a topper.

Dinner is with the wine crew this evening. Kati has outdone herself finding swell vittles for the veg. An appetizer of yoghurt, mayo, gelatin, thinly sliced carrot and cucumber formed into little bars, is followed by an entree of fried cauliflower heads and sun-dried peppers, stuffed with sharp cheese, and then breaded and fried. As has been mentioned before, they fry foods very lightly here, so it is refreshing but not too oily. Good stuff.

7/11/2011 Kishegeyes

Monday - time to get our ID cards so they know where to pick up when they come after the foreigners while we are in Serbia. Unlike previous years, the cards are now in English (Serbia is working hard to get into the EU), and we were able to get them in advance. Of course, like previous years, it's not as simple as that.

We picked up our friend Emese, who speaks Serbo-Croation, and headed to the police station - let the fun begin!

The lobby of the police station is already full of people. It is also full of police officers in various uniforms actively involved with - well, actually not much. Unless you count making sure the counters and desks don't suddenly fly up in the air.

We are second in line at the window, watching Officer Incompetent deal with a lady at the window. He "hunt and pecked" at his computer keyboard for a couple of strokes, taking, and I am not kidding here, a full three minutes, and then wandered off to find someone who had mastered the alphabet. This gave us 20 minutes to catch up with Emese, write in the journal, and admire the, as many as 8, police offiers sitting in the office working on something that involved holding the furniture down.

A cleaning lady (and friend of Emese's) came by and regaled us with tales of working in the place. Evidently, she has finally trained the police officers that putting out their cigarettes in their coffee cups is a bad idea. After several years, she has also convinced them that cleaning products might be a little more effective than just plain water. She has to be careful about cleaning the second floor window. It is only held in lace with a wooden wedge - if she pushes too hard on it, from either side, it will fall out. Best I can tell, she is the only person working in the whole place. When last seen, she was berating the door stops in the police office about putting chewing gum in the track for the window. They helpfully presented her with a ruler to scrape it out.

While all of this was going on, Vera pulled me over to show me a shredded desk chair in the office we were waiting for, and said I should address it in the blog. I assume it was shredded in frustraition from these people at the counter wanting things and interrupting the importnat work of holding the furniture down.

Finally, Officer NahΘτ* (my guess - Fackelmann), showed up and demonstrated some competence. Taking our cards and passports, he was gone for about 10 minutes, and we were checked in.

From there we went to city hall to get birth certificates to start Z's passport adventure for this year, only to find that they had risked having their furniture float away for their midmorning snack break. We gave up and went to Emese's to sit on the deck and enjoy coffee and a "car" conversation.

*****

Pista and Rozsa, Peter's cousin and wife, came by to visit this afternoon. They are active farmers in town. Pista shared with us that if it doesn't start raining in the next few days, the corn won't come this year. They made several thousand Euros on this crop last year, and are a little worried. The river levels in town are too low to allow for irrigation, so the crop may be a write-off. There are no farm subsidies here, so this will be a financial loss for them. So remember kids, there is no such thing as global warming.

*****

Dinner this evening is at Laci-Bacsi and Erzsi-Neni's house (known to long time readers of the blog as "Beethoven-Bacsi" and "Mozart-Neni." Laci had a large St. Bernard dogs when Z's kids were young and the "Beethoven" dog movies were out). In attendance are Imre and Kati, Lajos and Bori, Lacika and Dora and their son, Benedek. Lacika is the manager for this really hot Serbian brass band, the Boban Markovic Orkestra, that I have been infatuated with lately. Laci, Erzsi, Imre, Kati, Lajos and Bori are the harvest crew for the wine grapes in the vineyard that Peter is managing in Hungary, and they have all become good friends.

Lajos and Bori are a little late this evening. The trees on their farm had grown a little too close to the power lines, and had caught on fire. Had they not been home to put the fire out, the entire place likely would have burnt to the ground.

*****

The evening proceeded, as they often do here, with me enjoying the melodious sounds of Hungarian flowing around me, without a clue to what it actually all means. Fortunately, Z will help me keep up with the flow of things by occasionally throwing me a "car." A "car" is a quick translation, so that I have some clue as to what is happening in the conversation, and can make some sense of it. The first year we came over here, they were concise little tidbits of the conversation. I was surprisingly, able to follow a lot of what was going on at that point. By the second trip, the tidbits had gotten shorter - usually consisting of one word. We talked about cars a lot that year.

After an hour, then, this is the "car" Z just threw at me - "it doesn't translate, it's like a pun." And I'm right back in there...

* His real name is spelled "Nah backward 'N' and a weird cross between a 'T' and an 'h.'" I used to be able to cut and paste from Word into Blogger. I can't do that any more. Thanks, Blogger.

7/10/2011 Topolya

It is hot today. The kind of hot that brings the color of roasted ham (or carrots, if your a veg) to your skin, cooks every drop of moisture from your body, and then slaps you about the head and shoulders, making every step an effort - you know the type? So, of course, I started the day with an hour walk. The smoke is already (still?) coming from the neighbors still. He is running a commercial operation from his garage. To pay us back for "smoking us out" last night, he swung by with a bottle of cherry, fresh off the still, for Z and I. Around town, I am frequently greeted with a cheerful "Jö naput." It was a nice way to start the day.

I was hurried through the shower (mostly by the fact that the hot water tank was busted, not that we knew this at the time), and then we went to the semi-annual "Big Market" in Topolya. As has been mentioned before, this market turns the entire south end of town into a flea market/mall. You can buy anything here; toilet paper, furniture, tractor gears, gasoline, etc. Peter outfitted himself with a new "cowboy" style hat and belt, Vera some candy and a Kürtös Kalács, and Z added a new whip to the collection she has been working on since she was a kid. A quick stop at the GoMex store for water, and then out to Lajos and Bori's for roast lamb with the family. Family, in this case, are, in addition to Lajos and Bori, their business tycoon sons Lali, with wife Adrianna, daughter Léna, and son Lajos IV, and Feri, with wife Ani, as well as Marko and Mario. Mario is a former tennis pro, who has coached some of the name Serbia players (I even recognized some of the names - a shame alchohol was involved in the discussion. I couldn't remember now to save my life. Let this be a lesson to you, kids.), before becomming a vintner for some Serbia rock god neither you or I have ever heard of. Marko is an OB-GYN who practices three days in Hungary, drives to the Croatian coast and practices there for a day. Then he kicks it a day and drinks wine with the fishermen before returning to Hungary.

*****

The joy of seeing the world as a local instead of a tourist, is that you get to see things as they are, rather than all prettied up for the outsiders. For example, Lajos is the Game Warden for this part of Serbia. As such, he gets invited to go on safari all over the world. He invited us into his study to check out his trophy collection. The Keckes side of the family was suitably impressed - I was a little grossed out. And let's not even talk about the lamb that's staring at me with the roasted white eye ball on the spit.

*****

A little before two, everyone is here, and the party is in full swing. I've been handed a swell Düsseldorfer Alt, all tan and malty, and then promptly ignored. Such is the life of an American tourist. Smile and enjoy the show.

As, at this point, it has been more than an hour since someone has put more than a sentence together in English, let's talk about the beer:

Unknown Brewery, Alt, probably around 5%. This is a beautiful tanish-brown beer, with a thick, creamy white head and a strong aroma of sweet malt, with just a hint of hops peeking through in the background. This is also true as you tase it. On the front of the palate you get the sweet of the malt and the bitter of the hopes in almost equal balance, with the malt just winning out. As thebeer slides to the back of your throat, the hops show up in the finish in a hige wallop. A nice little alt - wish I knew what it was.

Lunch is served. Like usual in these cases, the lamb did not cooperate by finishing in time. The side dishes are enjoyed by all along with a little left over lamb brought by a guest to a party last night, while the assmbled wait for the one on the spit to finish. This finally occured about a half-hour later, to the applause of the assmbled guests. In case you were wondering, the tradition is that the head of the lamb goes to the chef. No one else may have it. Lajos, here's looking at you!

*****

Later in the afternoon we shifted out to the deck and to drinking wime. The wine in question, a 2007 Chateau de Lussac, is significantly more complex than the house wines we have been drinking this week. I'm told the stuff sells for about 100 Euroes a bottle (about $150 USD). It's really, really swell stuff, and probably completely wasted on my beer palate. Like the best beers, there are a huge number of flavors here that complement each other to make a better whole. Certainly nothing to whine (or wine, for that matter) about.

*****

We ended today's festivities witha guys-only trip out to visit Loli and Feri's new business venture. They have bought a grain elevator at the edge of town. After a hot, sticky climb, I was rewarded with a hazy view of the surrounding area. Why, on a clear day, I am told, you can see all the way to - well, you know...

7/9/2011 Kishegyes

It has been over 100° for the last few days here - hell on the walks and practice, but at least it helps keep the mosquitoes down. It is palinka making season in Kishegyes. We have seen the fruit cooking down in several places and are on the clock today making sure to add water to Peter's barrels to tighten the seams. Apricots are in season right now, followed by plum, pear, quince and the like. Cherries are already finished.

In another "Greek Wedding" moment, Z informed me today that we will be dining with sevreal folks over the next couple of days. They are all preparing lamb.

Imre and Kati came by this evening to visit. Discussion centered around the adventures of Kati's class reunion, mole removal (The friend in Sarmalek seems to have the best solution. He has a Guiney Hen that likes to hunt and eat them.), and "what the hell do vegetarians eat, anyway?" We'll be lunching with them later in the week.

Our palinka this evening is "mixed fruit." The fruit in question came from the garden right outside the door. We dodged a bullet. Vera brought out more of the "Swiss Herb," but decided it wasn't the right choice this evening. Whew, that was close.

*****

Hungarian Customs No. 2: Operating a Seltzer Bottle.

Most palinka drinkers wisely follow the potent potable with a chaser of bubbly water from a seltzer bottle. Should you be called upon to pour, here is what you do. Hold the glass to be filled in your weak hand under the spout, and the handle of the bottle in your strong hand. GENTLY squeeze the handle on the bottle. Don't be embarrassed if you end up taking a shower. You will. Even seasoned pros do it every so often.

7/8/2011 Keszthely - Kishegyes

Our annual trip to Serbia to visit Z's hometown and get her Serbian papers begins today in unbearably hot weather. I took my turn at driving the back roads of Hungary, always an adventure. Driving here is not for the timid. You will be passing places you never would have dreamed of at home. We lived to tell the tale (!), so I must have done OK.

We stopped by Lajos and Bori's house in Topolya for lunch. Lajos, you will recall, makes palinka commercially. Lunch, then, began with two extra-large sized apricot palinkas, fresh off the still - followed by potato soup, sun-dried red peppers with garlic, fried zuchinni and potatoes for me, accompanied by grey-long-horn cow steak for the carnivores. The Grey-Long-Horn Cow, by the way, is a Hungarian region specific animal. Lajos has the only license in the area to grow them. Desert was palascinta with cinnamon and sugar or home-made marmalade. All this was washed down with Savignon Blanc and Chardonnay house wines. Their sons have sold the grocery chain and moved into the wine biz, among other things.

From there, once again, home to pour ourselves into bed.

*****

Hungarian Customs No. 1: The Ritual Greeting

The Hungarian Ritual Greeting starts with a lot of excited cries of pleasure about renewing an acquaintance, friendship, family association - or being in the same bowling league for all I know - that you haven't run into for a while. You then embrace, and kiss them warmly on each cheek. Except, sometimes you only kiss one cheek. And then, if you really care for someone, sometimes you kiss them three times. It is all rather confusing.

Should you be called upon to perform this ritual, be forewarned that you start on your right, their left. You greet both the opposite and the same sex this way - so get over it, guys.

7/2 & 6/2011 Kesthely and environs

7/2

We had breakfast and then made a trip out to the "Russian" market out on the edge of town. This hangover from the "Black Market" days is a kind of flea market for clothing, genuine authentic Rolex's, and the like. Today it was mostly cooking gadgets and clothing - no real finds.

From there we went out to Sarmalek to get some wine and gather all the fruit that Z and Kyra could eat and shove into their pockets. And then, from there, home for lunch and a beer.

Lest you think everything we are drinking over here is swell, I give you:

Gösser Natur Zitrone (mit natüruchem Zitronenshaft), contract brewed by Sopron Brewing Company, in Sopron, Hungary (naturally). About 2% by volume, it looks kind of like urine with a thin head that lasts less than a minute before disappearing completely in disgust. It has the strong aroma of synthetic lemon (or possibly urine). There is no malt flavor in the bill, but rather the taste of bitter lemon soda. By the time it has reached the back of the palate, there is nothing left at all. All flash - no follow through. Ick. To be avoided at all costs. Mine ended up in the sink - life is too short to drink bad beer.

6/30 & 7/1/2011 Niedernhall - Kesthely

An 11 hour car ride is our fate today - from Niedernhall to Kesthely, Z's folks home base. As it is raining and there is lots of construction going on, even my stint behind the wheel on the Autobahn wasn't much fun. I only made 120 MPH twice, dang it!

We rolled in around 9:00, or 21:00 as the locals tell time. I had five palinkas, "my palinka," Vera's palinka (Peter had pulled out the wrong bottle, and she needed her glass empty for the correct one), the correct palinka - twice, and then one more to keep Peter company while he snuck one in while Vera was in the bathroom. All of this washed down, of course, by the beer chaser that Vera put in my hand shortly after "the correct" palinka, volume one. As the calorie count was low today, shortly thereafter I poured myself into bed. A draining experience indeed.

*****

7/1

In "there goes the neighborhood" news - according to the local newspaper, Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt have bought a house in nearby Tihany. Angelina just finished a film project there and liked the town.

*****

Today was spent getting ready for the arrival of Z's daughter and her family - Kyra's husband, Greg, our granddaughters Jaden and Sophie, and Greg's parental units, Janet and Wayne.

The morning involved visits to several local stores. The competition is getting fierce, and the quality at some of them is falling off. Hardest hit is our beloved Lidl - with the quirky middle isle with all the weird stuff on it. The quality of goods has fallen off, and the middle isle is pretty bare.

The afternoon was spent cleaning, cooking, and, in my case, reacquainting the trumpet with my face. Peter is making goulash in the kettle on the fire. Vera is making dumplings on the stove, and they are taking turns making palacsinta (crêpes) = Jaden's favorite food group.

*****

After dinner, we put together there was a "Wine Thing" downtown. It's a kind of traveling circus of the local vineyards, moving from town to town around the lake all sumer (Balaton is one of the major wine producing regions in Hungary). You buy a glass for 300 Ft. (about $1.50), and then float from booth to booth buying "tastes." A "taste" is about half a glass, and will set you back between 120-800 Ft. ($1.00 - $4.00 USD). There are street musicians every block or so. The hottest ticket, crowd wise, is a group playing Hungarian Renaissance music on period instruments - a hurdy-gurdy, wood flute, a dumbek or two, and a bass drum anointed with various percussion "toys." Of course, their popularity could have something to do with the belly dancer fronting the group.

6/29/2011 Niedernhall - Neuenstein - Waldenburg - Schwabisch Hall - Kunzelsau

Morning in Niedernhall starts with breakfast - bread, meats and cheeses (stinky cheese that will blow your sinuses off, which happens every time we open the fridge), tomatoes, "California" peppers (red bell peppers), scrambled eggs (suprisingly), and palinka (not surprisingly). This mornings entry is apple palinka with "Swiss Herb" tea added. More strongly flavored than most of the breed, after two days I'm finding it schnapps too bad (pun inteded).

My morning constitutional took me around town and then down the bike path along the Kocher River. Niedernhall was founded in the 1300's as one of the many salt mining outpost for the Roman Legions. It is a rediculously cute village - half timbered houses and antique city walls and watch towers and all. An amazing place.

Leaving town, I walked by the local schools, just starting for the day (it feels deliciously subversive to watch others work at my main occupation and not have to do it myself). The view along the river is stunning. The quaint houses are lined up down along the river. Farther up the sides of the narrow valley are rows and rows of grapes (great terroir). All of this is capped by a dense forest along the top of the ridge. It goes on like this for miles.

*****

Today is a pilgrimage of sorts. Z grew up in this neck of the woods and has lots of memories of things and places nearby. As Peter and Vera will be giving up this apartment later this year, after they complete their Hungarian citizenship, this will likely be our last visit back for a while. Between all of this and the area around us being "castle central," we have us a fine day o' sightseeing ahead - so let's get with it!

We started with the castle at Neuenstein (I'm not quite sure why they named their town after a new mug, but...). We can't see much, as "The Dude is home," Z informs me. "The Dude," in this case, is a Duke I gather. There is a pretty English garden in the back, along with some great statuary. As we are coming back through the center of the keep, the grounds keeper/tour guide invites us to check out the old kitchen.

The medieval kitchen is in pristine condition. Our friendly tour guide informs us this is because for around 30 years this building functioned as a retirement home before "The Dude took it back." The retirees never used the room, hence its great condition. "The Dude" and family bust out the room for special events.

It is a dank, bottom floor stone room, as you would expect in a castle (duh.). There is poor ventilation, which explains the black, sooty walls. The first thing you see is a big stone trench for butchering, followed by a swell little fireplace with lots of hooks and platforms for pots and pand and such. There is no chimney as such; the entire roof above the fireplace rises gently to the only opening in the roof line. You can imagine how well this works. (Or just look at the black sooty walls and don't guess!) Near the back is an oevn for bread and the like, as well as a peep hole for the servants to see if dinner was ready. They were not allowed in the room until it was. A cool look at history, and a bargain at 1 Euro a head!

From there we drove up the hill to Waldenburg. The flag is flying over the castle to let us know - you guessed it - "The Dude" is home. This "Dude," also a Duke, has a really great location, but a pretty small castle. It is located on the top of a largish hill. On a clear day, you can see all the way to - well you know.

I am amazed at how small these castles we are seeing really are. I can only imagine it must have been hell during a siege.

Down the hill we go, past Peter's former employer, Stahl. Peter was involved with the construction of this building from the beginning, and functioned as the union head for as long as he worked therte. He is well loved by his former bosses and fellow employees, and gets invited back frequently for big events.

Next up is Schwabisch Hall. It is a rediculously cute village - half timbered houses and antique city walls and watch towers and all. If you were looking for a place to film fairy tales, look no further than here.

There is a beautiful, centrally located church on the square. They use the enormous front steps to stage outdoor theatre productions in the summer - a pretty clever idea. There were rehearsals for some '60's thing going on as we walked through. Most of the shows seem to be musicals - "My Fair Lady" is on deck this summer - and mapping out choreography on the steps for dance numbers seemed to be challenging.

We had lunch in an outdoor cafe by the river. Z had a noodle and cheese thing (think high rent mac and cheese). I had a salad and a baked dish with carrots, potatoes, zuchini and red pepper in a very light tomato/onion sauce. Very nice. It was all washed down with the local suds - Haller Lowenbrau (The first part is pronounced "Heller," the second "Low-ven-btoi"), and no, it's not that one. Lowenbrau means "lions beer." As "The Dude" up the hill used to be responsible for the town, and he has a lion on his crest - Lowenbrau. They also have a pretty good time with the "Haller" part of their name in their advertising campaign, involving a nun yelling (go read the pronunciation again), until a few complained. I enjoyed a glass of their pils, Z, their wheat. Mine was light and refreshing, with a wonderful floral nose, and that great German pils bitter/sweet thing on the palate. At around 5%, it is a great session beer, pretty swell.

After lunch, we moved up the valley to Kunzelsau. It is a ridiculously cute village - half timbered houses and antique city walls and watch tower and... - look, you could use this description for most of the town in Germany. I've even started abbreviating it that way in my journal. You want fancy description, you should be reading the blog of an English teacher, not a musician (and the spelling is probably better, too!). This all said, there is less of a "Ye Old-ee" feel here, but more meaning. This is where Z went to school and grew up. Every other building elicits cries of "Oh!" or "that's where..." It was fun to watch all the memories come back for her.

The afternoon ended with cappuccinos at her favorite local coffee shop from her college days. From there we hurried home to drink another Haller Lowenbrau and watch the World Cup.

*****

The "Afternoon Coffee Ritual" and Why You Will Never Get It at Starbucks.

This is one of my favorite things about all of my trips to Europe so far. Mid-afternoon, everything stops, and you sit down for a chat and an espresso - or cappuccino or whatever. Every house, in addition to the coffee pot, has a small espresso pot to make the stuff. It is amazing what that little break in the day does for you.

You should not get the impression that what we are talking about is the Starbucks-Over-Roasted-Swill here. This is a proper cup of espresso - a tiny bit bitter, with sweet notes on top. Served in a nice little porcelain cup - it is an exquisite custom.

And it moves up a whole eighty or ninety levels when you do it while you are out. No paper cups here. You don't even go to the counter - they come to you, while you sit at the table - often in an atractive outdoor setting. Your coffee comes on an attractive little tray, in an ornate little cup. On the side is creamer and sugar in cute little packaging. A small, clear glass of bubbly water on the side, along with a sweet of some type - chocolate or espresso beans in attractive packaging.

You couldn't do this at a Starbucks = in fact they don't at the one down the street. The Americans just walk off with the stuff. Sad really.

6/28/2011 Portland - Chicago - Niedernhall

Once again we are picked up by Hailey and whisked away to the airport. This year, the flight time was late enough that we could swing by and enjoy breakfast at our favorite hole-in-the-wall in Portland, the Cameo Cafe. If you have never been to this place, try and go on a Saturday or Sunday morning. There is a cast of characters here worthy of a movie musical (that will probably get written some day). We had time to hang with Sue Gee, the owner, a bit, and enjoy the morning special. It was, as always, a wonderful way to start a trip.

We had an interesting moment this year going through our security vetting at PDX. I breezed through (uncommon, I usually have too much stuff in my pockets and forget something), and Z did not (also uncommon - she has a purse!). They held her on the other side of the scanner and asked me if it would be OK if they scanned her carry-on again. Weird, but sure, why not? They turned it sideways, ran it again, and then let Z through. The nice TSA lady, Dorian, asked us, as she opened the bag to look for the urn, if we "were carrying the ashes of an ex or someone?" We had a nice laugh, as we discovered that spices look the same as ashes in a carry-on. Yes, we travel with spices - don't you?

Continuing our, now long standing, tradition of running into folks at the airport as we leave town, we ran into an old acquaintance from college days in Eugene while waiting for the plane. Ken is also in the ed-biz, and filled us in with horror stories of budget cuts and layoffs in 4-J. As always, the good stewarts of the Eugene school system seem to be trying to outdo everyone in the state of Oregon for the madness of their proceedings.

Forgive me while I rant for a minute. 4-J is cutting some of thier most veteran and successful music teachers, shoving as many as 65 people into an auditorium and asking some poor sod to teach algebra to them (without assistance, of course) - what are they thinking? 4-J is supposed to be one of the most competitive school systems in the state, and it has come to this? Why do the kids even bother to show up? I'm sure they would find things better at their local charter school - oh, wait...

*****

Our seat row numbers from Chicago to Frankfurt - 42 - allowed me endless opportunities to run the old saw into the ground:

Z: "The old guy sitting next to me on the flight from Portland said I was the nicest, cutest thing."

Me, pointing at the row number sign: "That's 'cuz this trip is the answer."

And so on...

We also learned on this leg (not that we didn't know this already), that it really pays to have an attractive, single female row mate on the window side if you have a male Stew (What else do you call them? They're not stewardesses.). For example, Z and the shy single girl both want pasta for dinner. The Stew says, "we're out, but wait a moment. I'll see what I can do." A minute later, suprise! - two pasta dinners. Actually, if nothing else, watching the flirting was good harmless entertainment.

*****

Many of you who know us, know that Z and I consider marriage to have a lot of similarities to the movie "Big, Fat Greek Wedding" - just substitute palinka for Windex. You, then, would understand how hard I laughed to walk into Peter and Vera's apartment in Niedernhall to find a Bundt cake with a flower in it sitting on the table. Opa!

7-22-2011 Kesthely

Hi All.

I know that you are awaiting new posts from this trip. Unfortunately, we are at the mercy of an antique computer and slow Hungarian internet. We are writing entries, and we will post them all starting on Monday, when we get to Germany and better equipment. More soon...

Dave and Zia

6/26/2011 Pictures

OK, so Blogger is really stupid. Or my computer is really stupid. Possibly I am really stupid, but that is unlikely. More likely is that all three are true. That said...

I had hoped to add some pictures to previous posts, but it seems I am not allowed to do so. So here are a few, along with commentary. This year, I'll put them up more promptly - really!

Here is my Granddaughter, Jaden, at the Volksfest in Vilsek. This really swell event is a fundraiser for the local community music school and town band. And they serve you the local beer - in mugs the size of your head!

The local suds are made by the Winkler Brewery, who also make a really weird Cola/Orange mix thing that Z really likes. The beer is light and refreshing - lawnmower beer.

Bamberg - an amazingly beautiful place. And home to 8 breweries! This is where Rauchbeir comes from. Dark and smokey, it's really swell with smoked cheese or a smoked brot (hey, I wasn't always a veg!).

Hofbrau! Disneyland for beer drinkers! The party never stops. And if you've had a little much, look carefully in the tree for the local Starbucks (they're everywhere!).

I was taken with this fence in Munich. It's in the right clef and everything.

Marienplatz - one of the most beautiful places on earth. Go vists this amazing place. Listen to Uncle Dave. You won't be sorry.